“Do you hear that?” called Wilmot, as the boy trotted away. “Mike says we’re going to win. That settles it. No use to practice any more. It’s all up with Newbury.”
“He’s trying to make us win; that’s more than can be said of you,” spoke Talbot, disapprovingly.
“What’s the matter with me?” protested Wilmot. “Don’t I spend half my time tagging round after you fellows as manager?”
“A bum manager!” grumbled Horr. “Where are those W sweaters?”
“Mike is doing his little best to build up a school sentiment behind us,” continued Talbot, “and you—well, you’re laughing at us most of the time. Mike knows what he’s talking about, too, when it comes to football.”
Wilmot assumed an indignant manner. “That’s a base libel. I’m trying to keep you from being over-confident.”
The bell rang and the group began to move. “I’d like to see a few signs of over-confidence,” said Harrison. “Everything seems to me to be going the other way.”
For the mid-week practice Yards brought out a team of Westcott graduates from college, who could furnish to the reorganized school eleven something sturdy on which to try their plays. Mac ran his game with few errors and handled punts like a veteran; the ends got three out of four forward passes; Bumpus wrestled valiantly against a big sophomore in the line, puffing and blowing and perspiring, but fully holding his own. The result was in the main encouraging.
Dunn stood on the side-lines, dressed for play and ready to be called in if necessary. While he waited and observed the game, jesting aloud with Stover to show the bystanders how little his spirits were affected by his retirement from the team, Dunn noticed a stoutly built, showily dressed man, with a square face darkened by a heavy, close-shaven beard, who, while following the play, seemed at the same time to be interested in the conversation around him. Presently the stranger, having apparently made inquiries concerning Dunn from some of the smaller boys, called him aside and talked with him a few minutes out of earshot of the spectators. At the close of the conversation he put a slip of paper into Dunn’s hand and disappeared.
Some time later, as Harrison trotted from the field across toward the locker house, he passed Stover and Dunn going in the same direction.