"No, we're not," retorted Dick, his eyes flashing. "We can't
lose; that's all there is to it!"
"Who told you that," demanded Lewis.
"That used to be our motto, our fighting principle on the old
Gridley High School team in the days when it never lost a game,"
replied Prescott.
"Hm!" returned Lewis. "I wish we had some more of your old Gridley
players on the team today, then."
Then they scurried to their places, leaving Dick in wonder as to
whether Lewis' last remark had been intended for sarcasm.
"Greg." whispered Dick, his pulses throbbing, "you see those fellows
on the Lehigh right flank?"
They're the fellows we've got to down. We've got to down them,
if we get killed!"
"That's the word!" gritted the Army left tackle. "Dick, I'd about
as soon be killed as let the Army be walked over!"
This had all been whispered rapidly.
The Army had just got the ball again, and was only ten yards over
into Lehigh territory.
Now Boyle's signal was sounding:
"Twelve---seven---six---three!"
Dick straightened. Greg squirmed. Both knew that their chance
had come again.
Making an oblique dash, Boyle himself passed the pigskin to Dick
Prescott. Then all of the Army line that could do so stiffened in
and surged behind Prescott and Holmes.
Pages:
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128