On Sunday Fudge called for his blue-book and was at first plainly disappointed at Dick's verdict. When, however, Dick had explained that what the team wanted was a play that was deceptive rather than merely involved Fudge took heart again. Fudge was a born optimist, anyway, and it took more than one disappointment to discourage him.
"I g-g-get you now, Dick," he said, pocketing his blank-book. "You l-l-leave it to m-m-me! I thought of a dandy play this morning in church, but I've got to work it out. I'll show it to you to-morrow. Talk about deceptiveness! Gee, this is a c-c-corker."
"That's fine," said Dick, with a smile for Fudge's confidence. "What's it like?"
But Fudge refused to divulge any information regarding it, taking himself off with renewed requests for Dick to leave it to him! Which Dick, having lost faith in Fudge's ability as a football tactician, was perfectly willing to do.
Tuesday morning the Clearfield paper made a startling assertion. "In practice yesterday," it said, "Morris Brent, High School's phenomenal goal-*kicker, made what is probably a record hereabouts. Brent put over seventeen goals from twenty tries, most of them from difficult angles. If more than
