“What do you know about that?” demanded Lanny disgustedly. “Isn’t that the dickens?”
“How did they do it, Fudge?” asked Chester.
“Made two touchdowns to our one,” replied Fudge, dipping his spoon in the harlequin concoction and conveying a liberal portion of it to his mouth.
“Oh, cut out the comedy,” said Lanny. “What was the matter with our team?”
“Search me,” replied Fudge, in an injured tone. “We just couldn’t get started, it seemed. Logan scored in the first period and the second, and we didn’t do anything until about five minutes before the end of the game. Then that fellow Hull shot a forward off to Gordon and Gordie got away with it for about thirty yards. After that they couldn’t stop us and Nelson Beaton went over for the touchdown.”
“What sort of a game did Logan play?” asked Lanny, plainly disconsolate.
“Fine! They had a grand time running around our ends, or they did until Dick put Gordon Merrick in for Felker. Felker was rotten to-day on defense. Gee, but Gordie played a great little game after he got in! And, say, Lanny, that fellow Hull is a wonder! You ought to have seen the way he fooled those fellows on quarterback runs! It was fine!”
“It must have been if we got licked like that!” said Lanny. “Was McCoy good?”
“I guess so. Pretty fair. We didn’t seem able to stop them outside of tackles, though. That right half of theirs made a seventy-yard run one time. That was when they got their first touchdown. They fooled us on a fake-kick play and sent a back around Felker’s end from our fifteen yards.”