BLOWS ARE STRUCK
The second went off jubilantly. Steve was a hero for an hour. In the locker room "Boots" said some nice things to them, pointed out a few faults and took himself away just as the first team and its substitutes came piling in. Most of them looked pretty grim about the mouths. Evidently in the few minutes that Mr. Robey had detained them on the field, they had been provided with food for thought. Andy Miller encountered Steve on his way to the bath.
"That was good work, Edwards," he said heartily. "You fellows certainly put it over us to-day." He shook his head ruefully. "We ought to have got that touchdown in the last period." Then he smiled grimly, and, "We'll get you to-morrow, though," he said with conviction. "How's everything with you?"
"Fine and dandy, thanks," replied Steve heartily.
"Good! You haven't been around to see me, by the way. You and Hall must think a confidence-man isn't a proper acquaintance."
"We're coming around soon, Miller. The fact is, I—well, I made such a mutt of myself that last time——"
"Oh, nonsense! That's all right, Edwards. Don't let that worry you. Besides, you took my advice, I guess, and that squares it. Mind if I give you some more, by the way?"
"Of course not! I wish you would."
"Only this, Edwards. On defence don't watch the ball. They'll tell you to, but don't do it. Watch your opponent. Watch his eyes. He will tell you when the ball's snapped. He's got to watch it and you haven't, and then if you keep your eyes on him you can guess where he's coming almost before he starts. It may sound cheeky for me to tell you this, because, as a matter of absolute fact, Edwards, you played all around me to-day——"
"Oh, piffle, Miller!"