"But it will be different next week," Captain Rutledge warned them. "We tackle Mooretown then, and you'll find your work cut out for you."
This game was indeed a stiff one, and several players were hurt. The cadets were slightly ahead in the second half, when the right half-back was knocked out, and, as there had been one substitute already put in at that position, there was a call for another one.
"Try Hamilton," suggested the coach, after a hurried consultation with the captain.
Dick's heart gave a wild throb, as he was called, and, stripping off his sweater, he bounded in from the side line. He was given the ball for a play around the left end, and, getting clear of the opposing players started down the field on a run. But, alas for his hopes of making a touch-down! The referee's whistle blew when he was on the thirty-five yard line, ending the game, in favor of Kentfield.
There was rejoicing among the cadets, for Mooretown was an ancient rival, and they played three games with the students of that non-military academy every year, for the local championship.
"You didn't get much of a show, Hamilton," said Coach Hale, as the team was in the dressing room. "But you started off well. I guess you'll get into a game yet."
Dick was grateful for this praise. He knew he could do good work if he had half a chance.
"This is Saturday," observed Paul Drew, as he
