Page:The Winning Touchdown.djvu/78

66 clock, rather battered, but still in the ring. Doesn't strike at all.' How's that, fellows?"

"All right," said the end, as he laced his shoe loosely, for he had bandaged his ankle. "Let's have it, and I'll put my name down, then you fellows can go down and stick it up. I'm going to stretch out;" and, scribbling his name on the notice, Tom threw himself on the couch, with due regard for its age and weakness.

"I'll fix it up," volunteered Phil.