Page:The Winning Touchdown.djvu/206

192 pain shot through him, and he knew that what he had hoped for—that he might possibly play—was out of the question.

The day dawned cold and fair, ideal weather for football, with no wind to make kicking difficult. The contest was to take place at Randall, and the squad was out early at practice. It was rather a serious gridiron squad, too, for the absence of two of the best players crippled the team in a manner that none cared to think about.

"Jove, but I wish I was going to be with you!" spoke Sid softly, when Tom paid a visit to him, just before the time for calling the game.

"I wish you were," said the end. "I guess you'd better pray for us, Sid, for we sure are up against it."

Phil managed to limp out on the side lines, where he sat wrapped in a blanket like an Indian brave, and watched the preliminary practice, unable to keep back the tears that came into his eyes.

There was a big crowd present. Every stand was filled, and there were throngs about the field. George Carter was to play in Sid's place, and Art Benson would be at quarter. The rest of the team was made up substantially as the one that had played the previous games, save that Frank Simpson was slated to play one half at left guard, dividing with Sam Looper.

It was the first big game of the season, and