"Oh, I think I can play the game all right—even if I didn't make good while Nat was captain. But there's going to be an awful big crowd on that field, Bob; the whole town seems to be talking about it. And Mr. Barry will have his eagle eye on every move we make."
"So much the better."
"Maybe you're right," assented Charlie. "Wish I had Dave Brandon's nerve. Bet he could take a nap right before the game."
There was an undercurrent of excitement in the gymnasium. Each of the players, in a new and spotless uniform, resplendent purple shirt and striped stockings, found himself the center of a little group of eager enthusiasts.
"For the good of the school, boys, do your best!" bawled "Crackers" Brown. "Nat Wingate is a dandy fellow; but I hope you'll beat his crowd so badly they'll never wind off any of their megaphone stunts here again."
"Oh, what an awful bluff, 'Crackers'!" chirped Benny Wilkins. "You know you want him to win."
"There's a big mob on the field already, fellows." This announcement, coming from Tom Clifton, added to the pleasurable excitement.
"Well, it's most time to be getting over," said Bob. "Everybody ready?"
A rousing chorus of assenting voices answered.
"Oh, I say—I say—who's going to report this game for the 'Reflector'?" cried Benny. "Mr. Editor, may I?"