"Granted, and we're going to be the champions," went on the big guard. "But it sure does make me sore to be licked after we practically made all our preparations to do Blue Hill." Dick brightened up when he saw that he was not the only one who took the defeat to heart, and the talk drifted to the various incidents of the game. It was agreed that Blue Hill had not played exactly fair in a number of instances, but it was decided to keep quiet about this. "They'll say we're soreheads if we kick," said Paul. "I know one 'sorehead,'" remarked Ray with a grimace as he felt of his wound. "But wait until next time!" The two coaches were disappointed but not discouraged. They had hoped, not only for their own prestige, but for the sake of the team, that Blue Hill would be defeated. "But I'm glad there's another chance at them," remarked Mr. Martin grimly to his colleague. "Yes, I fancy Blue Hill will have to bring along plenty of substitutes when we meet them again," and Mr. Spencer smiled. "Oh, the next game is at their grounds, you know." "Well, that isn't so good for our chances, but even at that I have no fear of the result. If we can get our boys into shape, and their injuries heal, I would be willing to stake a good sum on our side, if I were a betting man." Porter was one of the disappointed ones, because he had lost a large sum of money on the result. He talked much about it, and even seemed inclined to blame Dick for the defeat. "If he had let me go in earlier they wouldn't have gained so much on us," he said boastfully. "Oh, get out!" cried Dutton in disgust. "Why, one of the biggest gains they made was around your end, and it resulted in a touchdown. "Well, my foot slipped." "And I guess the fellow's did who kicked me," said Ray grimly. "But don't make any cracks like that Porter. You're no better than the rest of us." "I'm not saying I am, but I want to play from the start of the game next time." He importuned Dick to this end, as soon as active practice was resumed, but Tom Coleton was again available and the captain did not feel like displacing him. "He'd better look out, or I'll fix him!" threatened Porter to his crony Weston. "What do you mean?" "Dick Hamilton. He ought to let me play. I'll get square somehow." "Oh, I wouldn't talk that way," said Weston weakly. He wanted to be loyal to his team, yet he was under obligations to Porter for he owed him a large sum of money. "You wouldn't do anything mean, would you?" he asked. "Why doesn't Hamilton let me play then?" inquired Porter, not answering the question. "I don't know. You may have a chance for one half of the Mooretown game." "I want to play the whole game--not half, and if I get knocked out it's my fault. But I'd like to see the fellow try to do any funny business with me," and Porter shot out his jaw aggressively. He was quite a boxer in an amateur way. "Well, don't do anything rash," cautioned his crony, but Porter walked off, muttering to himself.