CHAPTER XIII.
WHEN THE CHEERS BROKE LOOSE Fifteen minutes left to play.
By this time even the most hopeful spectators had settled down to the conviction that the Army was to lose the game.

The most sanguine hoped that the score would not exceed 6 to nothing.
"We're done for on this trip!" muttered Lewis, the Army's right guard.
"No, we're not," retorted Dick, his eyes flashing.

"We can't lose; that's all there is to it!" "Who told you that," demanded Lewis.
"That used to be our motto, our fighting principle on the old Gridley High School team in the days when it never lost a game," replied Prescott.
"Hm!" returned Lewis.

"I wish we had some more of your old Gridley players on the team today, then." Then they scurried to their places, leaving Dick in wonder as to whether Lewis' last remark had been intended for sarcasm.
"Greg." whispered Dick, his pulses throbbing, "you see those fellows on the Lehigh right flank ?" They're the fellows we've got to down.

We've got to down them, if we get killed!" "That's the word!" gritted the Army left tackle.