"What's the matter?"
"Oh, nothing; only I'm so excited I can't quite keep still."
"Afraid for _our_ side?"
"We're going to win!" asserted Dick, stubbornly.
"Yet you're shaking!"
"It is buck fever, I guess. O Dave, I _do_ love this grand old
game!"
Coach Morton half turned, sending a comprehending smile at the
earnest young freshman.
"I wonder if you'd feel like that," ventured Dave, "if you were
one of our fellows out there on the gridiron."
"Not for a second," spoke up Prescott, promptly. "I know what
I would be doing though."
"What?"
"I'd he Singing inside---singing songs of triumph over the game
we were going to win---the game we just _had_ to win!"
"You'd be pretty confident," smiled Darrin.
"Yes, I would," Dick asserted. "I believe it's the only spirit
worth having---the firm conviction that you're going to win, and
that nothing can stop you."
Coach Morton turned long enough to say:
"Prescott, I wish you were old enough and big enough to be out
there on our team now. When your time comes I certainly hope
you'll make the eleven. Your spirit is what every high school
needs."
Blushing a bit, Dick drew the score card out of his pocket. He
knew the Gridley side of it by heart, already, but he wanted to
read it over again. This was the line-up that he saw:
Gridley H.S. Positions Cobber Second
Evans .....left end..........Paisley
Butler.....left tackle.......Jordrey
Beck.......left guard........Smith
Badger.
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