It was Paul Drew who spoke, and he limped around the room where his chum sat staring gloomily out of the window into a mist of rain. The weather was in keeping with the hearts of the cadets of Kentfield academy. "It was tough, wasn't it, Dick?" "It was--very. I suppose I counted too much on winning that game. Others didn't seem so much to matter. But Blue Hill----" "I know, Dick," and Paul spoke softly. "But they didn't play fair." "That's what lots of the fellows say, and I saw you hit once. I've no doubt but what there was more slugging--but that doesn't excuse us for not winning." "No, of course not, but----" Paul was interrupted by a knock on the door. "Come in," called Dick, but there was no welcome in his tones. "Say, old man, you act as though your best girl had sent back your letters unopened!" exclaimed Ray Dutton as he came in, wearing a bandage on his head, where he had been kicked in that last heart-breaking attack on the Blue Hill goal line. "Don't be so down and out about it. Kentfield has lost before, and lived through it." "Yes, I suppose so," and Dick turned aside from the contemplation of the gloomy weather outside. "But it--hurts." "Of course it does, but all is not lost yet. We have a chance for the championship." "A mighty poor one." "Well, it's a chance, isn't it? If we hadn't had so many men knocked out we could have won, even at that. Blue Hill made one touchdown against us by straight playing. We were about to do the same to her. Then they got one on a fumble. It was my fault for being so silly as to be knocked out, but----" "It wasn't your fault at all!" cried Dick. "No one could have played better than you did. That whack on the head was enough to bowl anyone over." "Yes, I guess it was," admitted Ray, as he gently felt of a lump the bandage covered. "And the way they handled Paul was rotten," went on the captain. "Oh, I'm not kicking," declared the plucky guard. "I'll be ready for 'em next time." "I'm glad there is a next time," spoke Dick. "How do we stand, anyhow?" "There are several games yet," said Dutton, "and we can win most of them easily. The only hard ones are with Mooretown and the next one with Blue Hill. That's the last, and we need to win that and the Mooretown contest to get the championship." "It's a big contract," said the young millionaire with a sigh. "Oh, brace up!" cried Dutton as cheerfully as he could. "Here come some of the fellows. Don't let 'em see you in the dumps, Dick." Our hero tried to look cheerful, but it was hard work. Several of his players filed in. It was the day after the defeat by Blue Hill and there were sore bodies as well as sore hearts, for there had been more men knocked out in that desperate conflict than in any previous one. And, so said the senior cadets, there was no game ever played by Kentfield in all the years of her history that was more fiercely fought. "Blue Hill has the best team in years," said Innis Beeby. "So have we!" cried Jim Watkins.