"You saw it all from the side lines, Dick?" Dave asked, as the
chums, arm in arm, strolled into dressing quarters.
"Yes."
"What are your instructions for the second half."
"I haven't any."
"Your advice, then?"
"I haven't any of that, either. Dave, any fellow who can hold
those young human cyclones back as you've done doesn't need any
pointers in the game."
"But we simply couldn't score against them," muttered Darrin.
"So I know there's something wrong with my leadership. What
is it?"
"Nothing whatever, Darrin. It simply means that you're up against
the hardest line to get through that I've ever seen Gridley tackle.
Why, yesterday I was looking over the record of these Hallam
boys, and I find that they've already whipped two college second
teams. But you'll get through them in the next Dave, if there's
any human way of doing it. So that's all I've got to say, for
I'm not out there on the gridiron, and I can't see things from
the side line the same as you can on the ten-yard line. Perhaps
Mr. Morton may have something to offer."
But the coach hadn't.
"You're doing as well as any man of Gridley could do, Darrin,"
the submaster assured the young second captain. "Of course, with
Prescott at center, and yourself jumping around as quarter-back
the team would be stronger. But in Prescott's enforced absence,
I don't see how you can play any point of the line more forcefully
than you've been doing.
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