“Oh, well, we got it, anyway,” observed Tom Hall cheerfully.

“Yes, we got it,” agreed Jack Innes, “but I’m telling you fellows that we only just did get it, and that we’ve got mighty little to crow about.  Our forward line wasn’t nearly as good as Chambers’.  You all know that.  And you ought to know that if we went in against Claflin and played the sort of football we played yesterday we’d be literally swamped!”

“But, look here, Jack,” protested Tracey Black warmly, “it’s only mid-season, old man.  You’ve got to acknowledge that we’re in mighty good shape for the time of year.”

“I’m not knocking, Tracey.  I’m giving all the fellows credit for what they did yesterday, but I don’t want them to get the idea in their heads that all we’ve got to do is mark time from now until the big game.  We’ve got to be at least twice as good then as we were yesterday.  Besides, I don’t call it the middle of the season when we’ve got only three games to play before Claflin.  The Benton game was the mid-season game.  We’re on the last lap now.  And,” he added grimly, “we’ve got some work ahead of us!”

“For my part,” observed Amy, who had been rather bored by the discussion, “I think the whole bunch of you played pretty rottenly.”

“You do, eh?” demanded Edwards.  “Suppose you tell us all about it, Amy.  Give us of your wisdom, O enlightened one.”

“There you go,” groaned Tom Hall, “talking the way he does!”

“Oh, I don’t know that I care to specify which of you was the worst,” replied Amy carelessly.  “Possibly it was you, Steve.  You had a dandy chance once to upset the referee and you deliberately side-stepped him.  If you’re going to play the game, boy, play it!  Don’t dodge any of your duties or responsibilities.”

“Oh, you be blowed,” laughed Edwards.  “It’s the sorrow of my life, Amy, that you didn’t keep on with football.”

“I dare say if I had I’d have shown you fellows a few things about it,” replied Amy modestly.  “Theoretically, I’m something of an authority on football.  When you come right down to brass tacks, it’s the fellow on the side line who sees most of the game.  I’m considering coaching when I leave school.  Take my young friend Clint here.  Clint owes a whole lot to my advice and guidance.  He wouldn’t be where he is today if it hadn’t been for me, would you, Clint?”

“I’m on the bench just now,” retorted Clint drily.

“That’s where you’ll stay if you listen to his ravings,” said Steve Edwards, amidst general laughter.

“By the way, how is that ankle of yours, Thayer?” inquired Innes.

“Pretty nearly all right, thanks.  It’s my knee, though.”

“Oh, is it?  Say, Churchill got a peach of a black eye yesterday.  Seen it!”

“Rather!” replied Freer.  “He looked positively disreputable, poor chap.”

“The fun of it is,” chuckled Hall, “that he had to address the Christian Association this afternoon.  Were you there, Jack?”