Joe began to pull up his sweater sort of half-heartedly.
“If you think that way, Talmadge, you might get the others to. You might try it. It wouldn’t do any harm. We’re beaten anyway, and——”
“That ain’t so!” cried Joe angrily. “You know it, too!”
“What good does my knowing it do?” asked Morgan gently.
Joe pulled his sweater over his head and flung it behind him.
“Jones?” he asked.
The coach nodded. “And tell Truitt I said I’d changed my plans. Tell him I’ve decided to win the game.”
Joe grinned. Then he ran on just in time and pushed Jones out of the way.
It was Enwright’s ball on her forty-six yards, second down and five to go when Joe arrived. Tru looked a bit puzzled at the message for a moment, but then he grasped the idea and it seemed to do him a lot of good. “That’s the stuff!” he cried hoarsely. “We’ve got orders from the coach to win this, fellows! What d’ye say now! Everyone into it hard! All we want’s one score. Let’s get it!”
Enwright tried out the new center and made only a yard. Joe jeered at them. “Come again!” he told them. “Always glad to see you!” They got three past left tackle and Joe was on Conners like a ton of bricks, bawling him out. “What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded. “Trying to chuck this game away? Fight, you big baby! Don’t let ’em walk over you! Fight!”