"Shut up," said Tom. "Swipe a bunch of that absorbent cotton from Danny for me, will you? If he sees this he will make a fuss about it. I don't want it to get stiff on me. Hi, Fowler, how is it?"
"All right," replied the left-guard, working a bunch of bleeding knuckles experimentally. "It was hot work, though. Can we hold them next half, Hall?"
"Sure! They're as tired as we are, I guess. Besides, we had them on the run there toward the last."
Tom dragged himself off to the wash-room to bathe his leg with the cotton Steve had brought.
"Ten minutes more," announced Lawrence.
"Hurry in to the table, you fellows," called Danny. "Williams, come here and let me see that knee of yours."
"It's all right now, Danny," said Williams. But he limped across and was freshly bandaged. Mr. Robey left the window and sought Captain Miller, while "Boots," consulting the scribbled notes in his little book, went from player to player, criticising and advising.
"Five minutes!" called Lawrence.
"Hurry up, fellows," said Coach Robey. "Don't let's keep them waiting. Everyone all right? Just a word then. You fellows played well, and I want to tell you so. You made mistakes; everyone does. Never mind that now. You've got another chance. That's the main thing. We're going to win this game. We're going to score two touchdowns and we're going to hold them off, fellows. You can do it if you make up your minds to. I want every one of you to go back on the field looking as though you'd just come out of a Turkish bath and hadn't done a lick of work. I want every mother's son of you to smile from the time you leave this building until the last whistle blows. If I see one of you who isn't smiling I'll pull him out! We want to make those fellows understand right away that we're going to win, that we know we're going to win and that we can't help being happy about it! But you've got to do more than smile. You've got to work like the dickens! You've got to work just about twice as hard as you've been working. Any one of you who thinks he can't do that say so now." Mr. Robey's eyes searched the earnest, attentive faces around him. "All right. Now, there's just one important criticism I've got to make. You fellows were slow. Milton was slow in getting his signals off and the rest of you were slow in starting. If you'll speed up you'll get the jump on those fellows every time. I want to see you do it. I want to see you jump! I'll pull out the first man of you who doesn't start the instant the play begins. Understand that, please. I'll forgive mistakes, but I won't stand for slowness. All right. Here's the line-up: Edwards, Gleason, Fowler, Thursby, Hall, Williams, Miller, Milton, Still, Kendall, Norton. How much time is there, Joe?"
"About three minutes," answered Lawrence.