But the story held nothing to confirm his theory. St. Charles was credited with having played hard and with having made few mistakes. “I guess Pearsall’s better than we thought she was,” said Jack gloomily. “We didn’t find those St. Charles ends very easy, but Pearsall seems to have run them about as she pleased! Look at some of her gains: ‘Connor made seven outside left tackle’; ‘Morton, faking a throw to Cooper, ran around right end for sixteen yards, St. Charles’ defense having fallen for the bluff’; ‘Loring failed at the center, but on the next try went outside tackle on the left and carried the pigskin to the twenty-eight yards’; ‘Connor got around right end again for six, but a penalty for off-side took the ball back to the forty-one yards.’ Say, that Connor must be some guy!”
“Who went over to the game for us?” asked Stuart.
“Hanson and Joe Jakin.”
“What do they say?”
“I haven’t heard yet. They’re going to report this afternoon. They didn’t get back until late last night. There was a freight smash-up down the line and their train was held up. By the way, in case I forget it, there’s a conference at Haynes’s Tuesday night and he wants you to be sure and come.”
“Me?” Stuart looked surprised. “Oh, well, I guess I wouldn’t be much use,” he added after a pause.
“Yes, you would. There’ll be about eight of us and we’re going over the final plans. I’ll look for you.”
“Maybe I’ll get there,” answered Stuart with elaborate carelessness.
“You will,” said Neil decidedly. “You’ll get there if I have to carry you!”