away that
afternoon to play Miter Hill School, and Don would have liked very much
to have gone along. But Boots put his charges through a good, hard hour
and a half of work, and Don had all he could attend to at home. Just
before supper he did, however, walk down to the station and meet Tim
when the team arrived home. Tim, who seemed remarkably fresh for a youth
who had played through the most of four ten-minute periods, scorned the
coach and he and Don footed it back.

"Twenty to nothing, my boy," said Tim exultantly. "They never had a
look-in. It was some game, believe me, dearie! And I want to tell you,
too, that Miter Hill is fifty per cent better than Canterbury ever
thought of being!"

"That's fine," said Don. "What sort of a game did you play?"

"Me? Oh, I was the life of the party. Got off two nice little runs, one
for thirty and the other for forty-five yards. Got a touchdown the
second time. I wouldn't have, though, if Steve hadn't paced me most the
way down and put the quarter out. Old Steve played like a whirlwind
today. We all did, I guess. There was only one fumble, and that wasn't
anyone's fault. Holt got a forward pass and a Miter Hill chap plunged
into him and just about knocked the breath out of him and he let go of
the ball."

"Twenty to nothing? Three touchdowns, then."

"Yep, and Rollins only missed one goal. Rollins scored once, I scored
once and Steve took over the last one."

"Forward pass?"

"No, end-around. It went off great, too. We were way back on the
eighteen yards, I think it was, and we worked the fake forward pass
play, with Steve taking the ball from Carmine. We fooled them finely.
They never got onto it at all until Steve was over the line. Some of the
fellows who were doing so much grousing last week ought to have come
along today and seen some real football. Robey was as pleased as
anything. You could tell that because he looked sort of cross and told
us how bad we were!"

"Wish I'd seen it," mourned Don.

"It was some game, all right, all right! We're going to have a modest
celebration this evening; just Tom Hall and Clint Thayer and Hap Crewe,
maybe, and yours truly. Better come along. Will you?"

"Where are you going?"

"Oh, just down to the village. We'll leave the window open."

"You'll get nabbed if you try that," demurred Don. "Better not, Tim."

"Well, we may be back by ten. No harm in having a way open in case
something delays us, though. We'll have a littl