handed him. Everybody wanted to congratulate the hero of the day. He was kept busy pumping hands and wincing under resounding blows on the back.
The manager of the team added to his congratulations the report that everybody outside the building, including Coach Cavendish, was now engaged in trying to learn the famous "Speedy" Lamb jig step and snappy remark to "step right up and call me 'Speedy.'"
"It'll be the rage of the campus," the hoarse-voiced manager declared. "You're the greatest hero Tate ever had, 'Speedy.'" This from a dignified Senior who had up to that day hardly known Harold's last name, let alone his first!
Coach Cavendish was now talking to his players. The tough face of Mike bore an unaccustomed smile. His voice was strangely mild.
"You're sure a lucky bunch of stiffs," he started. "You beat a team that was at least twice as good as you. They had you played off your feet. Till that crazy man Lamb went in." He turned as Harold slipped sheepishly back and drew a towel out of his locker. "Oh, there you are, you fighting fool. Forgive me if I ever again say I know a real football player when I see one! I thought you were the world's worst. You sure showed me up, kid. Put it there!"
