there with his head cocked to one side like a bird? They began to cheer him then; and the Owl, unused to such demonstrations, fled back to the shelter of the bench.
"I've been thinking" he began.
"Sure," scoffed Stafford; "that's the best thing you do. What's on your mind? Going to take the coaching job away from Jennings?"
"Oh, no," the Owl said hurriedly; "nothing like that. But in one of Napoleon's battles, when the enemy was on a frozen river, he turned his heavy guns on the river and smashed the ice. That's the time to do something—when the other fellow is at a disadvantage. Couldn't we—couldn't we" The Owl was searching for a word.
"Couldn't we punt?"
Vance let out a roar. "You dill pickle, what do you think this is, football? In baseball you bunt."
"I wonder—" said Jennings, and paused. "Hastings is pretty well shaken. They've lost their swagger, and they're beginning to worry. They're afraid of us. If we couldn't bunt them dizzy and break their ice—"
"That's it," the Owl cried. "Break their ice. Get an icepick—I mean a bat—and—"
Again he had caught their imagination. And again Jennings took advantage of the situation.
