“I think so too,” agreed Sid. “Give ’em what they aren’t expecting, is my motto. Stone ought to have kept them guessing. His idea, I suppose, was that if he hammered the centre long enough it would weaken. Even their backs couldn’t have stopped a score if the line had busted, Dick. You see, we needed only a yard at the last and we’d have got it if their centre had weakened a bit more. It’s easy to criticise from the grand-stand, but it’s likely that Stone knew more than we did about those fellows he was facing. He probably had good reason to think he could smash K through there. Must have or he wouldn’t have persisted the way he did. Well, we’ll have to do better next week or we’ll get a good trouncing.”
“Phillipsburg?” asked Stan. “Yes, that’s so. We play them on their grounds, too, and that makes a difference. Hang it, I wish we’d tried a goal from the field that last time. Even three points would be something! It looks like the dickens to have those farmers whitewash us! We haven’t been whitewashed for ages!”
“Maybe we needed it, then,” chuckled Sid. “But you know Bob Peters well enough to be certain he wouldn’t be satisfied with three points when he might get seven. Not Bob! He’d want to win or tie. Just getting a consolation prize wouldn’t appeal to him, Stan.”
“It would to me, then,” muttered Stan. “You going to Phillipsburg?”
“No, I can’t. We’ve got a sort of a game on Saturday with Warne High School. It doesn’t amount to much; six innings and we to use second-string pitchers; but it’s likely to be about the last chance of the season to try some real work. You expect to go?”
“I don’t know. What about it, Dick?”
“I’d like to. Is it much of a trip?”
“No, a couple of hours. I’ll go if you do, I guess. Got any money?”
“Yes. I’ll stake you. Will many of the fellows go?”
“A lot,” answered Sid. “I think Blash intends going. Well, see you later, fellows. We’ll be over about seven.”