"Is that the Gridley way? Do we ever admit
defeat? Whoever croaks had better quit the team altogether."
Under that rebuke the boy who had ventured the opinion shrank
back abashed.
"You're sure I'll be in no shape to go on, Coach?" asked Dick
anxiously.
"Why, of course you could go on," replied Mr. Morton. "And you
could run about some, too, unless your knee got a good deal stiffer.
But you wouldn't be up to Gridley form."
"Have I any right to go on, with a knee in this shape?" queried
Dick.
"You certainly haven't," replied Mr. Morton, with great emphasis.
"Dave," called the young football chief, "you're second captain
of the team. Get in and get busy. Put up the best fight you
can for old Gridley!"
"Aye, that I will," retorted Dave Darrin, his eyes sparkling,
cheeks glowing. "I'll go in like a pirate chief, and I'll break
the neck of any Gridley man who doesn't do all there is in him
this afternoon."
"Listen to the fire eater," laughed Fenton. Dave grinned
good-humoredly, but went insistently:
"All right. If any of you fellows think I take less than the
best you can possibly do, try it out with me."
Then Darrin came over to rest a hand on Prescott's shoulder.
"Dick, you'll give me any orders you have before we go on, and
between the halves, won't you?"
"Not a word," replied Dick promptly. "Dave, you can lead as well
as ever I have done. If you're going to be captain to-day you'll
be captain in earnest.
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