“We’ll get licked worse than last time,” declared Sandy.
“Then there won’t be any third game?” asked Clara disappointedly.
“Oh, yes, there will. We play three games anyhow,” The Fungus reassured him. “And it isn’t very often that the third game isn’t the—the crucial one.”
“Great talk, Fungus,” Dutch applauded.
“Yes, that’s a peach of a word,” agreed Spud. “Got any more like it, Toadstool? I like to use ’em when I write home. Makes folks think I’m really learning lots.” Then, seeing his opportunity to engage Sandy in dispute, something that Spud loved above all things, he turned to the House Leader. “You’re all wrong, though, Sandy, about our getting licked this afternoon. Can’t be did.”
“I hope I am wrong,” answered Sandy pessimistically, “but I can’t figure it out that way.”
“Well, I can. For one thing, you know mighty well that House has improved about fifty per cent. in team-play this last week.”
“It’s improved, yes, but not any fifty per cent. And what do you suppose Hall has been doing? Standing still? Young Hoyt told me this morning that they’ve come on like anything.”
“So have we,” said Spud stoutly. “Our backs are every bit as good as theirs, while as for the line, why, I can’t see but what we had it on them a bit last game.”