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 success. He wondered whether the team was really as good as it had seemed to him yesterday, even this afternoon. There were moments, as, tossing back and forth on his pillow, he heard eleven and twelve o'clock strike, when it seemed to him that nothing but certain defeat impended, that there was not the smallest chance in the world for a Clearfield victory! That wasn't a pleasant vigil that Dick kept up there under the roof that night.

Some time after twelve he fell asleep, but only to turn and mutter for a long while after as his tired mind evolved dream after dream in all of which misfortune pursued him relentlessly.

When he awoke the world was gray and cold, with a foretaste of snow in the air, and he found nothing in the outlook to inspirit him. But a cold bath set sluggish blood to tingling again and a cup of steaming-hot coffee brought back courage and determination. While he was looking through the papers the telephone bell rang and he found Manager Cotner on the line, irritated of voice. Springdale had just telephoned over for thirty-five more seats and they didn't have that many unless they could get the workmen out there to put up some temporary ones. The matter was really outside