"I don't believe in making any fuss beforehand.

We'll just go ahead and take what comes to us." "It would be too late to make a kick after we've played," cried some one.
"You fellows," continued Dick, "make me think of what I heard Mr.Pollock say to Wilcox, chairman of the campaign committee back home." "What was that ?" demanded half a dozen.
"Why," chuckled Prescott, "Mr.Pollock said to Wilcox: 'Now, see here, there's always a chance that the election will go our way.
So never yell fraud until after the election is over.'" "I guess that's the wisest philosophy," laughed Coach Morton, who had taken no part in the previous conversation.
"If that's the Fordham team," continued Dick, "it's one of pretty sizable fellows.

But we'll do our plain duty, which is to pile out on to the field and proceed to stroll through any line that is posted in our way." Just before the Gridley youngsters were ready to go out for preliminary practice the big Fordham fellows came off the field.
"Hullo!" piped Dave, as the Gridley boys strolled out to the gridiron.
"You ought to feel happy, Dick.

There's a big section of West Point over on the grand stand." Nearly two hundred young men in black and gray cadet uniforms of the United States Military Academy pattern sat in a solid block at one point on the grand stand.
"No, they're not West Pointers," sighed Dick.

"See here, those fellows, of course, are students at the Fordham Military institute.
They wear the West Point uniform.