“‘There is a feeling here at Broadwood that if any fault can be found with the development of this year’s team it must be on the score that in perfecting what appears to be a remarkably strong defense the coaches have failed to produce an offense of more than ordinary value. Granting then what seems to be the case, that Broadwood’s defense is fully equal if not superior to Yardley Hall’s, the outcome of the struggle will depend on which team can show the strongest attack. A tie score is by no means beyond the realm of possibility, but here at Broadwood coaches and players alike agree that if the Green doesn’t come out of the fray victor by the margin of at least one touchdown they will be greatly surprised.’” “Business of looking surprised by Broadwood coaches,” murmured Ned, snapping his knife shut and worming his belt back into place. “That’s all right for their side of the thing, Vinton. Now, prithee, sweet youth, what says Yardley?” “Yardley doesn’t say anything,” replied Dan, searching the page with a frown. “Who’s our correspondent? Anyone know?” “Chambers used to be,” said Gerald. “I don’t know who is now.” “Hold on! Here’s something,” announced Dan. “‘Wissining, Conn., November 16. Yardley Hall School and Broadwood Academy will meet to-morrow on the Yardley gridiron for their annual championship battle. Yardley is expected to repeat her victories of the last two years, although a piece of eleventh-hour ill-luck may spoil her chances. Yardley’s captain and left end, Dan Vinton, may not be able to enter the game. Captain Vinton has been ill for about a week and on Thursday, obeying doctor’s orders, left school and has not been heard of since. Whether he will return in time for the game to-morrow, or whether, if he does return, he will be able to take part in it, is not known. Vinton’s leadership and his work at the left end of the Yardley line will be greatly missed.’” “What do you think of that?” ejaculated Gerald. Dan laughed. “I guess I’d better go back and show myself,” he said. “I wonder who started that story.” “The fellow who wrote it for the paper,” replied Ned. “Plenty of fellows knew that you had just gone off to rest up until this morning, although I guess none of them knew where you’d gone. What time is it? Let’s get a move on!” CHAPTER XXIII THE MORNING OF THE GAME They spun back to Wissining in something close to ten minutes, stopping, with a triumphant toot of the horn, in front of Clarke at twenty minutes to ten. Half a dozen fellows who had seen the arrival of the automobile rushed up to shake Dan’s hand and inquire anxiously if he were going to play. “Yes,” replied Dan, “and we’re going to win.”