tter the next afternoon with a
glowing and detailed account of that game, and it is to be hoped that
the folks at Cedar Run enjoyed the perusal of it half as much as he
enjoyed writing it. That evening he and Amy dropped in at Number 14
Hensey and found a roomful of fellows in excited discussion of the game.
There was a disposition on the part of some of the fellows to consider
the Claflin contest as good as won, but Jack Innes was more pessimistic.

"Look here," he interrupted finally, "you fellows talk like a lot of
sick ducks. I'm blessed if I see what you're so cocky about. We beat
Chambers, all right, but we didn't any more than beat them, and we had
to work like the very dickens to do it. And, what's more, we only kept
Chambers from scoring by the biggest piece of good luck."

"Oh, piffle, Jack!" exclaimed Still. "We had them fourth down and five
to go. They couldn't have made it to save their lives!"

"They only had four to go," replied Jack, "and if they'd tried anything
but a child's trick they'd likely have made it. The only way we got
across was by springing a delayed pass on them when they were looking
for a line-plunge."

"Bet you anything you like we could have gone straight through for that
touchdown." said Still. "We had the ball on their four yards and it was
only third down. Harris or Kendall could have torn that four yards
off easily."

"That's your opinion," replied Jack drily. "As I remember it, though,
you were not on at the time. We knew mighty well we _couldn't_ get that
four yards by playing the line. If you don't believe me, ask Robey. The
first thing he said afterwards was that he was afraid we were going to
send Harris at centre on that last play and that if we had we'd never
have got over."

"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