“It’s straight goods,” interrupted Jimmy Ames, appearing at Tom’s side. “Mr. Connover told Dave Lothrop and Dave spilled it a few minutes ago. Faculty’s sent word to the Committee to get busy, and there’s going to be a meeting in a few minutes.”
“But, Great Heck!” exclaimed Tom. “What—what—why, that’ll play the very dickens, won’t it?”
Whitemill grinned, but the grin held no humor. “Oh, no, not at all! Swapping coaches ten days before the big game is a mere trifle, Kemble. It’s easy when you—”
“There won’t be any swapping,” predicted Jimmy. “Where’d we get a new coach now? Anyway, he wouldn’t know the team, and he’d be worse than none. ‘Pinky’ will take Otis’s place, of course.”
“That’s so,” said Tom. “Well—but, heck, fellows, it’s going to make a difference! How does ‘Pinky’ know what Otis was going to do? Or does he know?”
“Search me,” said Whitemill despondently. “I suppose they’ve talked things over a good deal, though. Anyway, we’ll pull through somehow. Hang it, we’ll beat that bunch without any coach at all if we have to!”
“Spoken like a hero!” commented Jimmy Ames. “Just the same, if I had anything up on the Wolcott game I’d begin to hedge just about now, old dear. Say, Dave’s fit to be tied, fellows. He was talking about canceling the game, and all that stuff a few minutes ago up in ‘Swede’s’ room.”
“Cancel the game!” growled Whitemill. “I’ll say not! That would be a swell thing to do! Gosh, I’d rather get licked to smithereens than not play at all! Besides, why, thunder, Jimmy, you can’t crawl out of a game just because you’ve lost your coach! What’s the matter with Dave, anyway?”
“Oh, he was just getting rid of some of his peeve, I suppose,” said Jimmy. “Just talking to relieve his mind. I don’t blame him, though, for being a mite upset. Gosh, he’s captain, and if this thing’s as bad as they say it is—”
“There’s the gong,” broke in Tom. “A grand lot of studying we’ll do to-night! Say, where’s ‘Pinky’? Any one seen him? Why doesn’t some one ask him what the real facts are?”