Marshall on Saturday. Why, it'd break the hearts of those pretty
girls if we failed. I really believe they'd feel it more than any of
us would. And that little spitfire Mollie is crazy to rub it into her
boastful friend over at Harmony, too. Oh! we've got our job set out
before us for a fact, and must sweep the deck each deal."

The rest of the practice caused the boys to forget their recent little
adventure for the time being. They worked hard, and won additional
praise from old Joe Hooker.

"You're getting better every day, fellows," he told the bunch as they
started homeward, chattering like a lot of magpies. "I never was so
pleased with the improvement shown; why, it's simply marvelous. If an
old football man should watch some of your plays he'd swear you were
anything but novices, and vow you'd done plenty of footwork last
season. Don't stop, boys! Keep up the good work, and my word for it,
your reward is sure to come, for you'll take Marshall into camp on
Saturday, barring accidents."

They would have two more afternoons for practice, and then Saturday
would dawn with its uncertainties that might not be relieved until the
referee had blown his whistle to signify that the time for the game
had expired. Whose would be high score when that minute came around
was an unknown quantity; and many a Chester lad would have given much
to be able to lift the veil of the future just that far. But this was
beyond their ken, and they could only possess their souls in patience
while hoping for the best.

Those two days would soon pass, and the great time come when Chester
folks could be seen thronging the road leading to Marshall, bent on