artner and I
hadn't worked together before and there was a high one to the back of
the court and we both made for it. I got the ball and he got me; on the
back of the head with his full force. I dropped and they had me in bed
three weeks. Concussion, they called it. I thought so too."

Clint glanced reflectively at his knee. "I reckon a fellow does take
chances in football," he murmured. "I'd hate to give it up, though."

"I have an uncle," said Chase, "who used to play football a long time
ago, when he was in college. In those days about everything went, I
guess. He told me once that he used to be scared to death every time he
started in a hard game for fear he'd get badly injured. Said it wasn't
until someone had jabbed him in the nose or 'chinned' him that he forgot
to be scared."

"I know the feeling," observed Amy. "Once when I was playing a chap
jumped on me when I was down and dug his knee into my chest till I
thought he'd caved me in. I was so mad I tried to bite his ankle!"

"He had a narrow escape from hydrophobia, didn't he?" mused Clint.

The first two periods of the Chambers game aroused little interest. Both
teams played listlessly, much, as Amy put it, as if they were waiting
for the noon whistle. There was a good deal of punting and both sides
handled the ball cleanly. Neither team was able to make consistent gains
at rushing and the two periods passed without an exciting incident. Amy
was frankly bored and offered to play Chase a couple of sets of tennis.
Chase, however, chose to see the game through.

"They'll wake up in the next quarter," he predicted. "They've both been
feeling the other fellow out. You'll see that our fellows will start in
and try to rush the ends when they come back. After they've spread
Chambers' line a bit they'll hammer the guards, I guess. I think
Chambers will try to punt into scoring distance and then let loose."

"A score in each period will be the best either side will do, I reckon,"
said Clint.

But Chase shook his head. "I don't think so," he said. "Maybe there
won't be any scoring in the third period, but you'll find that the fur
will fly in the last. Only thing is, I don't know whose fur it will be!"

"Well, I'll be glad to see some action," remarked Amy, yawning.
"Compared to tennis this game is a regular 'cold water sit-around'!"

"What's that?" laughed Clint.

"Oh, that's a party where you don't get anything but a glass of water in
the way of refreshments