defeat," observed George Cotner. "Of course, fellows always do kick when the team loses and cheer like mad when it wins. Still, I'm inclined to think it might be a good plan to—well, to make a little extra effort and win next week's game, Dick. Just for the—er—the look of the thing, you know."
"Bless the look of the thing," said Dick placidly. "We'll win if we can do it without disturbing the plan of development we've settled on. If we lose, the fellows will just have to howl. What we've got to do is keep our eyes on the Eighteenth of November!"
"You bet!" said Chester. "Who cares whether Corwin is beaten or not? Or Benton, or Lesterville? We want to lick Springdale! That's what we're here for, isn't it?"
"I dare say," agreed George; "but isn't there always the danger of losing so many games that the team will think it can't win?"
"You mean it might develop the habit of defeat?" laughed Dick. "That's a new idea, George. I didn't know you were such a psychologist."
"I'm not, I'm a Methodist," retorted the manager.
"There may be something in your theory,
