t knee of yours."

"It's all right now, Danny," said Williams. But he limped across and was
freshly bandaged. Mr. Robey left the window and sought Captain Miller,
while "Boots," consulting the scribbled notes in his little book, went
from player to player, criticising and advising.

"Five minutes!" called Lawrence.

"Hurry up, fellows," said Coach Robey. "Don't let's keep them waiting.
Everyone all right? Just a word then. You fellows played well, and I
want to tell you so. You made mistakes; everyone does. Never mind that
now. You've got another chance. That's the main thing. We're going to
win this game. We're going to score two touchdowns and we're going to
hold them off, fellows. You can do it if you make up your minds to. I
want every one of you to go back on the field looking as though you'd
just come out of a Turkish bath and hadn't done a lick of work. I want
every mother's son of you to smile from the time you leave this building
until the last whistle blows. If I see one of you who isn't smiling I'll
pull him out! We want to make those fellows understand right away that
we're going to win, that we _know_ we're going to win and that we can't
help being happy about it! But you've got to do more than smile. You've
got to work like the dickens! You've got to work just about twice as
hard as you've been working. Any one of you who thinks he can't do that
say so now." Mr. Robey's eyes searched the earnest, attentive faces
around him. "All right. Now, there's just one important criticism I've
got to make. You fellows were slow. Milton was slow in getting his
signals off and the rest of you were slow in starting. If you'll speed
up you'll get the jump on those fellows every time. I want to see you do
it. I want to see you _jump_! I'll pull out the first man of you who
doesn't start the instant the play begins. Understand that, please. I'll
forgive mistakes, but I won't stand for slowness. All right. Here's the
line-up: Edwards, Gleason, Fowler, Thursby, Hall, Williams, Miller,
Milton, Still, Kendall, Norton. How much time is there, Joe?"

"About three minutes," answered Lawrence.

"All right. On the trot now!"

The cheer leaders leaped to their places as the teams came hustling back
to the field and waved their megaphones and dropped them and beat time
with clenched hands as the cheers burst forth.

"_Rah, rah, Brimfield! Rah, rah, Brimfield! Rah, rah, Brimfi-e-ld!_"

"_Claflin! Claflin! Claflin! Rah, rah, rah