All that Marvin said was, when Tracey had rubbed it in sufficiently: "There's just one thing you want to do, Tracey, and that is get a date with those guys for next year.

I won't be here, but it'll do me a whole lot of good to hear that we have rammed that old touchdown down their throats with one or two more for good measure." "Say, you're not sore or anything, are you ?" laughed Tracey.
"Never you mind.

I can take a licking as well as the next chap, but when a team works a sleight-of-hand gag on you, that's something different yet!" "I'll bet anything!" said Steve Edwards, "that they had two balls that day! If they didn't, I'm blessed if I can see how they got that one across the field there." "Maybe that chap who made the touchdown had a string tied to it," suggested Still.

"That wouldn't be a bad scheme, eh ?" "I don't know how they did it," said Marvin soberly, setting down his empty glass with a last fond look, "but if you take my advice, Tracey, you'll have it understood next year that there's to be no miracles!" Clint regretted that defeat, but it didn't affect his spirits any.

As a matter of fact, Clint had reached a state of second team patriotism that precluded his being heart-broken about anything save a humiliating beating of the second.