“Why, sure,” chuckled Chas. “You don’t want those fellows to think I’m pulling for you, do you? It’s got to look like an accident, don’t you see? I want to be able to tell Driscoll tonight that you went in at full in an emergency and played a corking good game. Then, if he has half the sense I think he has, he will put you in there himself the first of the week and look you over. By the way, want to try a little punting in the next period?”
“I don’t believe I’d better,” answer Myron. “I guess I’d rather not.”
“Maybe you’re right. If you made a mess of a punt it would sort of take off a few good marks. All right. Now see if you can do a little better still this half. And don’t mind my growls, old chap. You’re getting no worse than any other fellow would get.”
Twelve more minutes of hard playing followed in which the third turned the tables with a long run that netted a touchdown. But the try-at-goal failed and, after the second had battered its way to the enemy’s twelve yards, Warren’s attempt at a drop-kick went wide and the referee, the assistant manager, blew his whistle. In that second period Myron did a little better because he was learning his duties, but it would be an exaggeration to say that he showed phenomenal ability as a full-back. He made several good games, gains, was strong in defensive play and got off one very pretty forward pass to Mistley that netted twenty yards. In short, Chas had to show a little more enthusiasm than he actually felt when he spoke to Coach Driscoll that evening. There had been a final conference in the coach’s room at half-past seven attended by the trainer, the managers and seven of the players, and the last problem of the morrow’s game had been solved more or less satisfactorily. Afterwards, Chas remained behind with Jud Mellen and Farnsworth and Harry Cater for a sociable chat. None of them meant to talk football, and none of them did for a full quarter of an hour, but it is difficult to keep the subject uppermost in the mind out of the conversation, and presently Jud said thoughtfully:
“I wish we had about three more good plays, Coach.”
“We’ve got enough, Cap,” was the confident reply. “No use trying to remember too many at this time of the season. Better know ten or twelve well than half know twenty. It isn’t lack of plays that will beat us tomorrow, if we are beaten——”
“Sure to be,” interpolated Katie cheerfully.
“Well, it’ll be because we haven’t got our attack working, then. Musket Hill is well ahead of us in development, and that’s going to count, fellows. However, we may show them something, at that.”
“By the way, Coach,” said Chas, “I ran out of full-backs this afternoon and used that fellow Foster through most of two periods. He wasn’t half rotten, if you ask me. He’d never played it in his life, either.”