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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13556 ***
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
+ file which includes the original illustrations.
+ See 13556-h.htm or 13556-h.zip:
+ (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/3/5/5/13556/13556-h/13556-h.htm)
+ or
+ (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/3/5/5/13556/13556-h.zip)
+
+
+
+
+
+BEHIND THE LINE
+
+A Story of College Life and Football
+
+by
+RALPH HENRY BARBOUR
+Author of _The Half-Back_, _Captain of the Crew_, and _For the Honor
+of the School_
+
+Illustrated by C.M. Relyea
+
+1902
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: A critical moment]
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+TO
+MY MOTHER
+
+
+
+PREFATORY NOTE
+
+The Author takes pleasure in acknowledging his indebtedness to Mr. Lorin
+F. Deland, of Boston, for the football play described in Chapter XV.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+CHAPTER
+ I.--HEROES IN MOLESKIN
+ II.--PAUL CHANGES HIS MIND
+ III.--IN NEW QUARTERS
+ IV.--NEIL MAKES ACQUAINTANCES
+ V.--AND SHOWS HIS METTLE
+ VI.--MILLS, HEAD COACH
+ VII.--THE GENTLE ART OF HANDLING PUNTS
+ VIII.--THE KIDNAPING
+ IX.--THE BROKEN TRICYCLE
+ X.--NEIL MAKES THE VARSITY
+ XI.--THE RESULT OF A FUMBLE
+ XII.--ON THE HOSPITAL LIST
+ XIII.--SYDNEY STUDIES STRATEGY
+ XIV.--MAKES A CALL
+ XV.--AND TELLS OF A DREAM
+ XVI.--ROBINSON SENDS A PROTEST
+ XVII.--A PLAN AND A CONFESSION
+XVIII.--NEIL is TAKEN OUT
+ XIX.--ON THE EVE OF BATTLE
+ XX.--COWAN BECOMES INDIGNANT
+ XXI.--THE "ANTIDOTE" IS ADMINISTERED
+ XXII.--BETWEEN THE HALVES
+XXIII.--NEIL GOES IN
+ XXIV.--AFTER THE BATTLE
+
+
+
+
+LIST OF ILLUSTKATIONS
+
+A critical moment (frontispiece)
+
+Getting settled
+
+The vine swayed at every strain
+
+Hiding his face, he cried for help
+
+"I guess you've broken down," said Neil
+
+Mills studied the diagram in silence
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+HEROES IN MOLESKIN
+
+"Third down, four yards to gain!"
+
+The referee trotted out of the scrimmage line and blew his whistle; the
+Hillton quarter-back crouched again behind the big center; the other
+backs scurried to their places as though for a kick.
+
+"_9--6--12!_" called quarter huskily.
+
+"Get through!" shrieked the St. Eustace captain. "Block this kick!"
+
+"_4--8!_"
+
+The ball swept back to the full, the halves formed their interference,
+and the trio sped toward the right end of the line. For an instant the
+opposing ranks heaved and struggled; for an instant Hillton repelled the
+attack; then, like a shot, the St. Eustace left tackle hurtled through
+and, avoiding the interference, nailed the Hillton runner six yards back
+of the line. A square of the grand stand blossomed suddenly with blue,
+and St. Eustace's supporters, already hoarse with cheering and singing,
+once more broke into triumphant applause. The score-board announced
+fifteen minutes to play, and the ball went to the blue-clad warriors on
+Hillton's forty-yard line.
+
+Hillton and St. Eustace were once more battling for supremacy on the
+gridiron in their annual Thanksgiving Day contest. And, in spite of the
+fact that Hillton was on her own grounds, St. Eustace's star was in the
+ascendant, and defeat hovered dark and ominous over the Crimson. With
+the score 5 to in favor of the visitors, with her players battered and
+wearied, with the second half of the game already half over, Hillton,
+outweighted and outplayed, fought on with the doggedness born of despair
+in an almost hopeless struggle to avert impending defeat.
+
+In the first few minutes of the first half St. Eustace had battered her
+way down the field, throwing her heavy backs through the crimson line
+again and again, until she had placed the pigskin on Hillton's
+three-yard line. There the Hillton players had held stubbornly against
+two attempts to advance, but on the third down had fallen victims to a
+delayed pass, and St. Eustace had scored her only touch-down. The
+punt-out had failed, however, and the cheering flaunters of blue banners
+had perforce to be content with five points.
+
+Then it was that Hillton had surprised her opponents, for when the
+Blue's warriors had again sought to hammer and beat their way through
+the opposing line they found that Hillton had awakened from her daze,
+and their gains were small and infrequent. Four times ere the half was
+at an end St. Eustace was forced to kick, and thrice, having by the
+hardest work and almost inch by inch fought her way to within scoring
+distance of her opponent's goal, she met a defense that was impregnable
+to her most desperate assaults. Then it was that the Crimson had waved
+madly over the heads of Hillton's shrieking supporters and hope had
+again returned to their hearts.
+
+In the second half Hillton had secured the ball on the kick-off, and,
+never losing possession of it, had struggled foot by foot to within
+fifteen yards of the Blue's goal. From there a kick from placement had
+been tried, but Gale, Hillton's captain and right half-back, had been
+thrown before his foot had touched the leather, and the St. Eustace
+right-guard had fallen on the ball. A few minutes later a fumble
+returned the pigskin to Hillton on the Blue's thirty-three yards, and
+once more the advance was taken up. Thrice the distance had been gained
+by plunges into the line and short runs about the ends, and once
+Fletcher, Hillton's left half, had got away safely for twenty yards. But
+on her eight-yard line, under the shadow of her goal, St. Eustace had
+held bravely, and, securing the ball on downs, punted it far down the
+field into her opponent's territory. Fletcher had run it back ten yards
+ere he was downed, and from there it had gone six yards further by one
+superb hurdle by the full-back. But St. Eustace had then held finely,
+and on the third down, as has been told, Hillton's fake-kick play had
+been demolished by the Blue's tackle, and the ball was once more in the
+hands of St. Eustace's big center rush.
+
+On the side-line, his hands in his pockets and his short brier pipe
+clenched firmly between his teeth, Gardiner, Hillton's head coach,
+watched grimly the tide of battle. Things had gone worse than he had
+anticipated. He had not hoped for too much--a tie would have satisfied
+him; a victory for Hillton had been beyond his expectations. St. Eustace
+far outweighed his team; her center was almost invulnerable and her back
+field was fast and heavy. But, despite the modesty of his expectations,
+Gardiner was disappointed. The plays that he had believed would prove to
+be ground-gainers had failed almost invariably. Neil Fletcher, the left
+half, on whom the head coach had placed the greatest reliance, had, with
+a single exception, failed to circle the ends for any distance. To be
+sure, the St. Eustace end rushes had proved more knowing than he had
+given them credit for being, and so the fault was, after all, not with
+Fletcher; but it was disappointing nevertheless.
+
+And, as is invariably the case, he saw where he had made mistakes in the
+handling of his team; realized, now that it was too late, that he had
+given too much attention to that thing, too little to this; that, as
+things had turned out, certain plays discarded a week before would have
+proved of more value than those substituted. He sighed, and moved down
+the line to keep abreast of the teams, now five yards nearer the
+Hillton goal.
+
+"Crozier must come out in a moment," said a voice beside him. He turned
+to find Professor Beck, the trainer and physical director. "What a game
+he has put up, eh?"
+
+Gardiner nodded.
+
+"Best quarter in years," he answered. "It'll weaken us considerably, but
+I suppose it's necessary." There was a note of interrogation in the
+last, and the professor heard it.
+
+"Yes, yes, quite," he replied. "The boy's on his last legs." Gardiner
+turned to the line of substitutes behind them.
+
+"Decker!"
+
+The call was taken up by those nearest at hand, and the next instant a
+short, stockily-built youth was peeling off his crimson sweater. The
+referee's whistle blew, and while the mound of squirming players found
+their feet again, Gardiner walked toward them, his hand on
+Decker's shoulder.
+
+"Play slow and steady your team, Decker," he counseled. "Use Young and
+Fletcher for runs; try them outside of tackle, especially on the right.
+Give Gale a chance to hit the line now and then and diversify your plays
+well. And, my boy, if you get that ball again, and of course you will,
+_don't let it go_! Give up your twenty yards if necessary, only hang on
+to the leather!"
+
+Then he thumped him encouragingly on the back and sped him forward.
+Crozier, the deposed quarter-back, was being led off by Professor Beck.
+The boy was pale of face and trembling with weariness, and one foot
+dragged itself after the other limply. But he was protesting with tears
+in his eyes against being laid off, and even the hearty cheers for him
+that thundered from the stand did not comfort him. Then the game went
+on, the tide of battle flowing slowly, steadily, toward the
+Crimson's goal.
+
+"If only they don't score again!" said Gardiner.
+
+"That's the best we can hope for," said Professor Beck.
+
+"Yes; it's turned out worse than I expected."
+
+"Well, you can comfort yourself with the knowledge that they've played
+as plucky a game against odds as I ever expect to see," answered the
+other. "And we won't say die yet; there's still"--he looked at his
+watch--there's still eight minutes."
+
+"That's good; I hope Decker will remember what I told him about runs
+outside right tackle," muttered Gardiner anxiously. Then he relighted
+his pipe and, with stolid face, watched events.
+
+St. Eustace was still hammering Hillton's line at the wings. Time and
+again the Blue's big full-back plunged through between guard and
+tackle, now on this side, now on that, and Hillton's line ever gave back
+and back, slowly, stubbornly, but surely.
+
+"First down," cried the referee. "Five yards to gain."
+
+The pigskin now lay just midway between Hillton's ten-and fifteen-yard
+lines. Decker, the substitute quarter-back, danced about under the
+goal-posts.
+
+"Now get through and break it up, fellows!" he shouted. "Get through!
+Get through!"
+
+But the crimson-clad line men were powerless to withstand the terrific
+plunges of the foe, and back once more they went, and yet again, and the
+ball was on the six-yard line, placed there by two plunges at
+right tackle.
+
+"First down!" cried the referee again.
+
+Then Hillton's cup of sorrow seemed overflowing. For on the next play
+the umpire's whistle shrilled, and half the distance to the goal-line
+was paced off. Hillton was penalized for holding, and the ball was on
+her three yards!
+
+From the section of the grand stand where the crimson flags waved came
+steady, entreating, the wailing slogan:
+
+"_Hold, Hillton! Hold, Hillton! Hold, Hillton!_"
+
+Near at hand, on the side-line, Gardiner ground his teeth on the stem of
+his pipe and watched with expressionless face. Professor Beck, at his
+side, frowned anxiously.
+
+"Put it over, now!" cried the St. Eustace captain. "Tear them up,
+fellows!"
+
+The quarter gave the signal, the two lines smashed together, and the
+whistle sounded. The ball had advanced less than a yard. The Hillton
+stand cheered hoarsely, madly.
+
+"Line up! Line up!" cried the Blue's quarter. "Signal!"
+
+Then it was that St. Eustace made her fatal mistake. With the memory of
+the delayed pass which had won St. Eustace her previous touch-down in
+mind, the Hillton quarter-back was on the watch.
+
+The ball went back, was lost to view, the lines heaved and strained.
+Decker shot to the left, and as he reached the end of the line the St.
+Eustace left half-back came plunging out of the throng, the ball
+snuggled against his stomach. Decker, just how he never knew, squirmed
+past the single interferer, and tackled the runner firmly about the
+hips. The two went down together on the seven yards, the blue-stockinged
+youth vainly striving to squirm nearer to the line, Decker holding for
+all he was worth. Then the Hillton left end sat down suddenly on the
+runner's head and the whistle blew.
+
+The grand stand was in an uproar, and cheers for Hillton filled the air.
+Gardiner turned away calmly and knocked the ashes from his pipe.
+Professor Beck beamed through his gold-rimmed glasses. Decker picked
+himself up and sped back to his position.
+
+"_Signal_!" he cried. But a St. Eustace player called for time and the
+whistle piped again.
+
+"If Decker tries a kick from there it'll be blocked, and they'll score
+again," said Gardiner. "Our line can't hold. There's just one thing to
+do, but I fear Decker won't think of it." He caught Gale's eye and
+signaled the captain to the side-line.
+
+"What is it?" panted that youth, taking the nose-guard from his mouth
+and tenderly nursing a swollen lip. Gardiner hesitated. Then--
+
+"Nothing. Only fight it out, Gale. You've got your chance now!" Gale
+nodded and trotted back. Gardiner smiled ruefully. "The rule against
+coaching from the side-lines may be a good one," he muttered, "but I
+guess it's lost this game for us."
+
+The whistle sounded and the lines formed again.
+
+"First down," cried the referee, jumping nimbly out of the way. Decker
+had been in conference with the full-back, and now he sprang back to
+his place.
+
+"Signal!" he cried. "_14--7--31_!"
+
+The Hillton full stood just inside the goal-line and stretched his hands
+out.
+
+"_16--8_!"
+
+The center passed the pigskin straight and true to the full-back, but
+the latter, instead of kicking it, stood as though bewildered while the
+St. Eustace forwards plunged through the Hillton line as though it had
+been of paper. The next moment he was thrown behind his goal-line with
+the ball safe in his arms, and Gardiner, on the side-line, was smiling
+contentedly.
+
+"Touch-back," cried Decker. "Line up on the twenty yards, fellows!"
+
+Hillton's ruse had won her a free kick, and in another moment the ball
+was arching toward the St. Eustace goal. The Blue's left half secured
+it, but was downed on his forty yards. The first attack netted four
+yards through Hillton's left-guard, and the crimson flags drooped on
+their staffs. On the next play St. Eustace's full-back hurdled the line
+for two yards, but lost the pigskin, and amid frantic cries of "Ball!
+Ball!" Fletcher, Hillton's left half, dropped upon it. The crimson
+banners waved again, and Hillton voices once more took up the refrain of
+Hilltonians, while hope surged back into loyal hearts.
+
+"Five minutes to play," said Professor Beck. Gardiner nodded.
+
+"Time enough to win in," he answered.
+
+Decker crouched again, chanted his signal, and the Hillton full plunged
+at the blue-clad line. But only a yard resulted.
+
+"_Signal_!" cried the quarter. "_8--51--16--5_!"
+
+The ball came back into his waiting hands, was thrown at a short pass
+to the left half, and, with right half showing the way and full-back
+charging along beside, Fletcher cleared the line through a wide gap
+outside of St. Eustace's right tackle and sped down the field while the
+Hillton supporters leaped to their feet and shrieked wildly. The
+full-back met the St. Eustace right half, and the two were left behind
+on the turf. Beside Fletcher, a little in advance, ran the Hillton
+captain and right half-back, Paul Gale. Between them and the goal, now
+forty yards away, only the St. Eustace quarter remained, but behind them
+came pounding footsteps that sounded dangerous.
+
+Gardiner, followed by the professor and a little army of privileged
+spectators, raced along the line.
+
+"He'll make it," muttered the head coach. "They can't stop him!"
+
+One line after another went under the feet of the two players. The
+pursuit was falling behind. Twenty yards remained to be covered. Then
+the waiting quarter-back, white-faced and desperate, was upon them. But
+Gale was equal to the emergency.
+
+"To the left!" he panted.
+
+Fletcher obeyed with weary limbs and leaden feet, and without looking
+knew that he was safe. Gale and the St. Eustace player went down
+together, and in another moment Fletcher was lying, faint but happy,
+over the line and back of the goal!
+
+The stands emptied themselves on the instant of their triumphant burden
+of shouting, cheering, singing Hilltonians, and the crimson banners
+waved and fluttered on to the field. Hillton had escaped defeat!
+
+But Fortune, now that she had turned her face toward the wearers of the
+Crimson, had further gifts to bestow. And presently, when the wearied
+and crestfallen opponents had lined themselves along the goal-line,
+Decker held the ball amid a breathless silence, and Hillton's right end
+sent it fair and true between the uprights: Hillton, 6; Opponents, 5.
+
+The game, so far as scoring went, ended there. Four minutes later the
+whistle shrilled for the last time, and the horde of frantic Hilltonians
+flooded the field and, led by the band, bore their heroes in triumph
+back to the school. And, side by side, at the head of the procession,
+perched on the shoulders of cheering friends, swayed the two half-backs,
+Neil Fletcher and Paul Gale.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+PAUL CHANGES HIS MIND
+
+Two boys were sitting in the first-floor corner study in Haewood's.
+Those who know the town of Hillton, New York, will remember Haewood's as
+the large residence at the corner of Center and Village Streets, from
+the big bow-window of which the occupant of the cushioned seat may look
+to the four points of the compass or watch for occasional signs of life
+about the court-house diagonally across. To-night--the bell in the tower
+of the town hall had just struck half after seven--the occupants of the
+corner study were interested in things other than the view.
+
+I have said that they were sitting. Lounging would be nearer the truth;
+for one, a boy of eighteen years, with merry blue eyes and cheeks
+flushed ruddily with health and the afterglow of the day's excitement,
+with hair just the color of raw silk that took on a glint of gold where
+the light fell upon it, was perched cross-legged amid the cushions at
+one end of the big couch, two strong, tanned, and much-scarred hands
+clasping his knees. His companion and his junior by but two months, a
+dark-complexioned youth with black hair and eyes and a careless,
+good-natured, but rather wilful face, on which at the present moment the
+most noticeable feature was a badly cut and much swollen lower lip, lay
+sprawled at the other end of the couch, his chin buried in one palm.
+
+Both lads were well built, broad of chest, and long of limb, with
+bright, clear eyes, and a warmth of color that betokened the best of
+physical condition. They had been friends and room-mates for two years.
+This was their last year at Hillton, and next fall they were to begin
+their college life together. The dark-complexioned youth rolled lazily
+on to his back and stared at the ceiling. Then--
+
+"I suppose Crozier will get the captaincy, Neil."
+
+The boy with light hair nodded without removing his gaze from the little
+flames that danced in the fireplace. They had discussed the day's
+happenings thoroughly, had relived the game with St. Eustace from start
+to finish, and now the big Thanksgiving dinner which they had eaten was
+beginning to work upon them a spell of dormancy. It was awfully jolly,
+thought Neil Fletcher, to just lie there and watch the flames
+and--and--He sighed comfortably and closed his eyes. At eight o'clock
+he, with the rest of the victorious team, was to be drawn about the town
+in a barge and cheered at, but meanwhile there was time to just close
+his eyes--and forget--everything--
+
+There was a knock at the study door.
+
+"Go 'way!" grunted Neil.
+
+"Oh, come in," called Paul Gale, without, however, removing his drowsy
+gaze from the ceiling or changing his position.
+
+"I beg your pardon. I am looking for Mr. Gale, and--"
+
+Paul dropped his legs over the side of the couch and sat up, blinking at
+the visitor. Neil followed his example. The caller was a carefully
+dressed man of about thirty-five, scarcely taller than Neil, but broader
+of shoulder. Paul recognized him, and, rising, shook hands.
+
+"How do you do, Mr. Brill? Glad to see you. Sit down, won't you? I guess
+we were both pretty nigh asleep when you knocked."
+
+"Small wonder," responded the visitor affably. "After the work you did
+this afternoon you deserve sleep, and anything else you want." He laid
+aside his coat and hat and sank into the chair which Paul proffered.
+
+"By the way," continued the latter, "I don't think you've met my friend,
+Neil Fletcher. Neil, this is Mr. Brill, of Robinson; one of their
+coaches." The two shook hands.
+
+"I'm delighted to meet the hero--I should say one of the heroes--of the
+day," said Mr. Brill. "That run was splendid; the way in which you two
+fellows got your speed up before you reached the line was worth coming
+over here to see, really it was."
+
+"Yes, Paul set a pretty good pace," answered Neil.
+
+The visitor discussed the day's contest for a few minutes, during which
+Neil glanced uneasily from time to time at the clock, wondered what the
+visitor wanted there, and heartily wished he'd take himself off. But
+presently Mr. Brill got down to business.
+
+"You know we've had a little victory in football ourselves this fall,"
+he was saying. "We won from Erskine by 17 to 6 last week, and we're
+feeling rather stuck up over it."
+
+"Wait till next year," said Neil to himself, "and you'll get over it."
+
+"And that," continued the coach, "brings me to the object of my call
+tonight. Frankly, we want you two fellows at Robinson College, and I'm
+here to see if we can't have you." He paused and smiled engagingly at
+the boys. Neil glanced surprisedly at Paul, who was thoughtfully
+examining the scars on his knuckles. "Don't decide until I've explained
+matters more clearly," went on the visitor. "Perhaps neither of you have
+been to Collegetown, but at least you know about where Robinson stands
+in the athletic world, and you know that as an institution of learning
+it is in the front rank of the smaller colleges; in fact, in certain
+lines it might dispute the place of honor with some of the big ones.
+
+"To the fellow who wants a college where he can learn and where, at the
+same time, he can give some attention to athletics, Robinson's bound to
+recommend itself. I mention this because you know as well as I do that
+there are colleges--I mention no names--where a born football player,
+such as either of you, would simply be lost; where he would be tied down
+by such stringent rules that he could never amount to anything on the
+gridiron. I don't mean to say that at Robinson the faculty is lax
+regarding standing or attendance at lectures, but I do say that it holds
+common-sense views on the subject of college athletics, and does not
+hound a man to death simply because he happens to belong to the football
+eleven or the crew.
+
+"Robinson is always on the lookout for first-class football, baseball,
+or rowing material, and she believes in offering encouragement to such
+material. She doesn't favor underhand methods, you understand; no hiring
+of players, no free scholarships--though there are plenty of them for
+those who will work for them--none of that sort of thing. But she is
+willing to meet you half-way. The proposition which I am authorized to
+make is briefly this"--the speaker leaned forward, smiling frankly, and
+tapped a forefinger on the palm of his other hand--"If you, Mr. Gale,
+and you, Mr. Fletcher, will enter Robinson next September, the--ah--the
+athletic authorities will guarantee you positions on the varsity eleven.
+Besides this, you will be given free tutoring for the entrance exams,
+and afterward, so long as you remain on the team, in any studies with
+which you may have difficulty. Now, there is a fair, honest proposition,
+and one which I sincerely trust you will accept. We want you both, and
+we're willing to do all that we can--in honesty, that is--to get you.
+Now, what do you say?"
+
+During this recital Neil's dislike of the speaker had steadily
+increased, and now, under the other's smiling regard, he had difficulty
+in keeping from his face some show of his emotions. Paul looked up from
+his scarred knuckles and eyed Neil furtively before he turned to
+the coach.
+
+"Of course," he said, "this is rather unexpected."
+
+The coach's eyes flickered for an instant with amusement.
+
+"For my part," Neil broke in almost angrily, "I'm due in September at
+Erskine, and unless Paul's changed his mind since yesterday so's he."
+
+The Robinson coach raised his eyebrows in simulated surprise.
+
+"Ah," he said slowly, "Erskine?"
+
+"Yes, Erskine," answered Neil rather discourteously. A faint flush of
+displeasure crept into Mr. Brill's cheeks, but he smiled as
+pleasantly as ever.
+
+"And your friend has contemplated ruining his football career in the
+same manner, has he?" he asked politely, turning his gaze as he spoke
+on Paul. The latter fidgeted in his chair and looked over a trifle
+defiantly at his room-mate.
+
+"I had thought of going to Erskine," he answered. "In fact"--observing
+Neil's wide-eyed surprise at his choice of words--"in fact, I had
+arranged to do so. But--but, of course, nothing has been settled
+definitely."
+
+"But, Paul--" exclaimed Neil.
+
+"Well, I'm glad to hear that," interrupted Mr. Brill. "For in my opinion
+it would simply be a waste of your opportunities and--ah--abilities,
+Mr. Gale."
+
+"Well, of course, if a fellow doesn't have to bother too much about
+studies," said Paul haltingly, "he can do better work on the team; there
+can't be any question about that, I guess."
+
+"None at all," responded the coach.
+
+Neil stared at his chum indignantly.
+
+"You're talking rot," he growled. Paul flushed and returned his look
+angrily.
+
+"I suppose I have the right to manage my own affairs?" he demanded. Neil
+realized his mistake and, with an effort, held his peace. Mr. Brill
+turned to him.
+
+"I fear there's no use in attempting to persuade you to come to us
+also?" he said. Neil shook his head silently. Then, realizing that Paul
+was quite capable, in his present fit of stubbornness, of promising to
+enter Robinson if only to spite his room-mate, Neil used guile.
+
+"Anyhow, September's a long way off," he said, "and I don't see that
+it's necessary to decide to-night. Perhaps we had both better take a day
+or two to think it over. I guess Mr. Brill won't insist on a final
+answer to-night."
+
+The Robinson coach hesitated, but then answered readily enough:
+
+"Certainly not. Think it over; only, if possible, let me hear your
+decision to-morrow, as I am leaving town then."
+
+"Well, as far as I'm concerned," said Paul, "I don't see any use in
+putting it off. I'm willing--"
+
+Neil jumped to his feet. A burst of martial music swept up to them as
+the school band, followed by a host of their fellows, turned the corner
+of the building.
+
+"Come on, Paul," he cried; "get your coat on. Mr. Brill will excuse us
+if we leave him; we mustn't keep the fellows waiting. And we can think
+the matter over, eh, Paul? And we'll let him know in the morning. Here's
+your coat. Good-night, sir, good-night." He was holding the door open
+and smiling politely. Paul, scowling, arose and shook hands with the
+Robinson emissary. Neil kept up a steady stream of talk, and his chum
+could only mutter vague words about his pleasure at Mr. Brill's call and
+about seeing him to-morrow. When the door had closed behind him the
+coach stood a moment in the hall and thoughtfully buttoned his coat.
+
+"I think I've got Gale all right," he said to himself, "but"--with a
+slight smile--"the other chap was too smart for me. And, confound him,
+he's just the sort we need!"
+
+When he reached the entrance he was obliged to elbow his way through a
+solid throng of shouting youths who with excited faces and waving caps
+and flags informed the starlight winter sky over and over that they
+wanted Gale and Fletcher, to which demand the band lent hearty if rather
+discordant emphasis.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+A good deal happened in the next two hours, but nothing that is
+pertinent to this narrative. Victorious Hillton elevens have been hauled
+through the village and out to the field many times in past years, and
+bonfires have flared and speeches have been made by players and faculty,
+and all very much as happened on this occasion. Neil and Paul returned
+to their room at ten o'clock, tired, happy, with the cheers and the
+songs still echoing in their ears.
+
+Paul had apparently forgotten his resentment toward Neil and the whole
+matter of Brill's proposition. But Neil hadn't, and presently, when they
+were preparing for bed, he returned doggedly to the charge.
+
+"When did you meet that fellow Brill?" he asked.
+
+"In Gardiner's room this morning; he introduced us." Paul began to look
+sulky again. "Seems a decent sort, I think," he added defiantly. Neil
+accepted the challenge.
+
+"I dare say," he answered carelessly. "There's only one thing I've got
+against him."
+
+"What's that?" questioned Paul suspiciously.
+
+"His errand."
+
+"What's wrong with his errand?"
+
+"Everything, Paul. You know as well as I that his offer is--well, it's
+shady, to say the least. Who ever heard of a decent college offering
+free tutoring in order to get fellows for its football team?"
+
+"Lots of them do," growled Paul.
+
+"No, they don't; not decent ones. Some do, I know; but they're not
+colleges a fellow cares to go to. Every one knows what rotten shape
+Robinson athletics are in; the papers have been full of it for two
+years. Their center rush this fall, Harden, just went there to play on
+the team, and everybody says that he got his tuition free. You don't
+want to play on a team like that and have people say things like that
+about you. I'm sure I don't."
+
+"Oh, you!" sneered Paul. "You're getting crankier and crankier every
+day. I'll bet you're just huffy because Brill didn't ask you first."
+
+Neil flushed, but kept his temper.
+
+"You don't think anything of the sort, Paul. Besides--"
+
+"It looks that way," muttered Paul.
+
+"Besides," continued Neil calmly, "what's the advantage in going to
+Robinson? We've arranged everything; we've got our rooms picked out at
+Erskine; there are lots of fellows there we know; the college is the
+best of its class and its athletics are honest. If you play on the
+Erskine team you'll be somebody, and folks won't hint that you're
+receiving money or free scholarships or something for doing it. And as
+for Brill's guarantee of a place on the team, why, there's only one
+decent way to get on a football team, and that's by good, hard work; and
+there's no reason for doubting that you'll make the Erskine
+varsity eleven."
+
+"Yes, there is, too," answered Paul angrily. "They've got lots of good
+players at Erskine, and you and I won't stand any better show than a
+dozen others."
+
+"I don't want to."
+
+"Huh! Well, I do; that is, I want to make the team. Besides, as Brill
+said, if a fellow has the faculty after him all the time about studies
+he can't do decent work on the team. I don't see anything wrong in it,
+and--and I'm going. I'll tell Brill so to-morrow!"
+
+Neil drew his bath-robe about him, and looked thoughtfully into the
+flames. So far he had lost, but he had one more card to play. He turned
+and faced Paul's angry countenance.
+
+"Well, if I should go to Robinson and play on her team under the
+conditions offered by that--by Brill I'd feel disgraced."
+
+"You'd better stay away, then," answered Paul hotly.
+
+"I wouldn't want to show my face around Hillton afterward, and if I met
+Gardiner or 'Wheels' I'd take the other side of the street."
+
+"Oh, you would?" cried his room-mate. "You're trying to make yourself
+out a little fluffy angel, aren't you? And I suppose I'm not good enough
+to associate with you, am I? Well, if that's it, all I've got to say--"
+
+"But," continued Neil equably, "if you accept Brill's offer, so will I."
+
+Paul paused open-mouthed and stared at his chum. Then his eyes dropped
+and he busied himself with a stubborn stocking. Finally, with a muttered
+"Humph!" he gathered up his clothing and disappeared into the bedroom.
+Neil turned and smiled at the flames and, finding his own apparel,
+followed. Nothing more was said. Paul splashed the water about even more
+than usual and tumbled silently into bed. Neil put out the study light
+and followed suit.
+
+"Good-night," he said.
+
+"Good-night," growled Paul.
+
+It had been a hard day and an exciting one, and Neil went to sleep
+almost as soon as his head touched the pillow. It seemed hours later,
+though in reality but some twenty minutes, that he was awakened by
+hearing his name called. He sat up quickly.
+
+"Hello! What?" he shouted.
+
+"Shut up," answered Paul from across in the darkness. "I didn't know you
+were asleep. I only wanted to say--to tell you--that--that I've decided
+not to go to Robinson!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+IN NEW QUARTERS
+
+Almost every one has heard of Erskine College. For the benefit of the
+few who have not, and lest they confound it with Williams or Dartmouth
+or Bowdoin or some other of its New England neighbors, it may be well to
+tell something about it. Erskine College is still in its infancy, as New
+England universities go, with its centennial yet eight years distant.
+But it has its own share of historic associations, and although the big
+elm in the center of the campus was not planted until 1812 it has shaded
+many youths who in later years have by good deeds and great
+accomplishments endeared themselves to country and alma mater.
+
+In the middle of the last century, when Erskine was little more than an
+academy, it was often called "the little green school at Centerport." It
+is not so little now, but it's greener than ever. Wide-spreading elms
+grow everywhere; in serried ranks within the college grounds, in smaller
+detachments throughout the village, in picket lines along the river and
+out into the country. The grass grows lush wherever it can gain hold,
+and, not content with having its own way on green and campus, is forever
+attempting the conquest of path and road. The warm red bricks of the
+college buildings are well-nigh hidden by ivy, which, too, is an ardent
+expansionist. And where neither grass nor ivy can subjugate, soft,
+velvety moss reigns humbly.
+
+In the year 1901, which is the period of this story, the enrolment in
+all departments at Erskine was close to six hundred students. The
+freshman class, as had been the case for many years past, was the
+largest in the history of the college. It numbered 180; but of this
+number we are at present chiefly interested in only two; and these two,
+at the moment when this chapter begins--which, to be exact, is eight
+o'clock of the evening of the twenty-fourth day of September in the year
+above mentioned--were busily at work in a first-floor study in the
+boarding-house of Mrs. Curtis on Elm Street.
+
+It were perhaps more truthful to say that one was busily at work and the
+other was busily advising and directing. Neil Fletcher stood on a small
+table, which swayed perilously from side to side at his every movement,
+and drove nails into an already much mutilated wall. Paul Gale sat in a
+hospitable armchair upholstered in a good imitation of green leather and
+nodded approval.
+
+"That'll do for 'Old Abe'; now hang The First Snow a bit to the left and
+underneath."
+
+"The First Snow hasn't any wire on it," complained Neil. "See if you
+can't find some."
+
+"Wire's all gone," answered Paul. "We'll have to get some more. Where's
+that list? Oh, here it is. 'Item, picture wire.' I say, what in
+thunder's this you've got down--'Ring for waistband'?"
+
+"Rug for wash-stand, you idiot! I guess we'll have to quit until we get
+some more wire, eh? Or we might hang a few of them with boot-laces and
+neckties?"
+
+"Oh, let's call it off. I'm tired," answered Paul with a grin. "The room
+begins to look rather decent, doesn't it? We must change that couch,
+though; put it the other way so the ravelings won't show. And that
+picture of--"
+
+But just here Neil attempted to step from the table and landed in a heap
+on the floor, and Paul forgot criticism in joyful applause.
+
+"Oh, noble work! Do it again, old man; I didn't see the take-off!"
+
+But Neil refused, and plumping himself into a wicker rocking-chair that
+creaked complainingly, rubbed the dust from his hands to his trousers
+and looked about the study approvingly.
+
+"We're going to be jolly comfy here, Paul," he said. "Mrs. Curtis is
+going to get a new globe for that fixture over there."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"Then we will be," said Paul. "And if she would only find us a
+towel-rack that didn't fall into twelve separate pieces like a Chinese
+puzzle every time a chap put a towel on it we'd be simply reveling
+in luxury."
+
+"I think I can fix that thing with string," answered Neil. "Or we might
+buy one of those nickel-plated affairs that you screw into the wall."
+
+"The sort that always dump the towels on to the floor, you mean? Yes, we
+might. Of course, they're of no practical value judged as towel-racks,
+but they're terribly ornamental. You know we had one in the bath-room at
+the beach. Remember? When you got through your bath and groped round for
+the towel it was always lying on the floor just out of reach."
+
+"Yes, I remember," answered Neil, smiling. "We had rather a good time,
+didn't we, at Seabright? It was awfully nice of you to ask me down
+there, Paul; and your folks were mighty good to me. Next summer I want
+you to come up to New Hampshire and see us for a while. Of course, we
+can't give you sea bathing, and you won't look like a red Indian when
+you go home, but we could have a good time just the same."
+
+"Red Indian yourself!" cried Paul. "You're nearly twice as tanned as I
+am. I don't see how you did it. I was there pretty near all summer and
+you stayed just three weeks; and look at us! I'm as white as a sheet
+of paper--"
+
+"Yes, brown paper," interpolated Neil.
+
+"And you have a complexion like a--a football after a hard game."
+
+Neil grinned, then--
+
+"By the way," he said, "did I tell you I'd heard from Crozier?"
+
+"About Billy and the ducks? And Gordon's not going back to Hillton? Yes,
+you got that at the beach; remember?"
+
+"So I did. 'Old Cro' will be up to his ears in trouble pretty soon,
+won't he? I'm glad they made him captain, awfully glad. I think he can
+turn out a team that'll rub it into St. Eustace again just as you did
+last year."
+
+"Yes; and Gardiner's going to coach again." Paul smiled reminiscently.
+Then, "By Jove, it does seem funny not to be going back to old Hillton,
+doesn't it? I suppose after a while a fellow'll get to feeling at home
+here, but just at present--" He sighed and shook his head.
+
+"Wait until college opens to-morrow and we get to work; we won't have
+much time to feel much of anything, I guess. Practise is called for four
+o'clock. I wonder--I wonder if we'll make the team?"
+
+"Why not?" objected Paul. "If I thought I wouldn't I think I'd pitch it
+all up and--and go to Robinson!" He grinned across at his chum.
+
+"You stay here and you'll get a chance to go _at_ Robinson; that's a
+heap more satisfactory."
+
+"Well, I'm going to make the varsity, Neil. I've set my heart on that,
+and what I make up my mind to do I sometimes most always generally do.
+I'm not troubling, my boy; I'll show them a few tricks about playing
+half-back that'll open their eyes. You wait and see!"
+
+Neil looked as though he was not quite certain as to that, but said
+nothing, and Paul went on:
+
+"I wonder what sort of a fellow this Devoe is?"
+
+"Well, I've never seen him, but we know that he's about as good an end
+as there is in college to-day; and I guess he's bound to be the right
+sort or they wouldn't have made him captain."
+
+"He's a senior, isn't he?"
+
+"Yes; he's played only two years, and they say he's going into the Yale
+Law School next year. If he does, of course he'll get on the team there.
+Well, I hope he'll take pity on two ambitious but unprotected
+freshmen and--"
+
+There was a knock at the study door and Paul jumped forward and threw it
+open. A tall youth of twenty-one or twenty-two years of age stood in
+the doorway.
+
+"I'm looking for Mr. Gale and Mr. Fletcher. Have I hit it right?"
+
+"I'm Gale," answered Paul, "and that's Fletcher. Won't you come in?" The
+visitor entered.
+
+"My name's Devoe," he explained smilingly. "I'm captain of the football
+team this year, and as you two fellows are, of course, going to try for
+the team, I thought we'd better get acquainted." He accepted the squeaky
+rocking-chair and allowed Paul to take his straw hat. Neil thought he'd
+ought to shake hands, but as Devoe made no move in that direction he
+retired to another seat and grinned hospitably instead.
+
+"I've heard of the good work you chaps did for Hillton last year, and I
+was mighty glad when I learned from Gardiner that you were coming
+up here."
+
+"You know Gardiner?" asked Neil.
+
+"No, I've never met him, but of course every football man knows who he
+is. He wrote to me in the spring that you were coming, and rather
+intimated that if I knew my business I'd keep an eye on you and see that
+you didn't get lost in the shuffle. So here I am."
+
+"He didn't say anything about having written," pondered Neil.
+
+"Oh, he wouldn't," answered Devoe. "Well, how do you like us as far as
+you've seen us?"
+
+"We only got here yesterday," replied Paul. "I think it looks like
+rather a jolly sort of place; awfully pretty, you know,
+and--er--historic."
+
+"Yes, it is pretty; historic too; and it's the finest young college in
+the country, bar none," answered Devoe. "You'll like it when you get
+used to it. I like it so well I wish I wasn't going to leave it in the
+spring. Very cozy quarters you have here." He looked about the study.
+
+"They'll do," answered Neil modestly. "Of course we couldn't get rooms
+in the Yard, and we liked this as well as anything we saw outside. The
+view's rather good from the windows."
+
+"Yes, I know; you have the common and pretty much the whole college in
+sight; it is good." Devoe brought his gaze back and fixed it on Neil.
+"You played left half, didn't you?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"What's your weight?"
+
+"I haven't weighed this summer," answered Neil. "In the spring I was a
+hundred and sixty-two."
+
+"Good. We need some heavy backs. How about you, Gale?"
+
+"About a hundred and sixty."
+
+"Of course I haven't seen the new material yet," continued Devoe, "but
+the last year's men we have are a bit light, take them all around.
+That's what beat us, you see; Robinson had an unusually heavy line and
+rather heavy backs. They plowed through us without trouble."
+
+Neil studied the football captain with some interest. He saw a tall and
+fairly heavy youth, with well-set head and broad shoulders. He looked
+quite as fast on his feet as rumor credited him with being, and his dark
+eyes, sharp and steady in their regard, suggested both courage and
+ability to lead. His other features were strong, the nose a trifle
+heavy, the mouth usually unsmiling, the chin determined, and the
+forehead, set off by carefully brushed dark-brown hair, high and broad.
+After the first few moments of conversation Devoe devoted his attention
+principally to Neil, questioning him regarding Gardiner's coaching
+methods, about Neil's experience on the gridiron, as to what studies he
+was taking up. Occasionally he included Paul in the conversation, but
+that youth discovered, with surprise and chagrin, that he was apparently
+of much less interest to Devoe than was Neil. After a while he dropped
+out of the talk altogether, save when directly appealed to, and sat
+silent with an expression of elaborate unconcern. At the end of half an
+hour Devoe arose.
+
+"I must be getting on," he announced. "I'm glad we've had this talk, and
+I hope you'll both come over some evening and call on me; I'm in Morris,
+No. 8. We've got our work cut out this fall, and I hope we'll all pull
+together." He smiled across at Paul, evidently unaware of having
+neglected that young gentleman in his conversation. "Good-night. Four
+o'clock to-morrow is the hour."
+
+"I never met any one that could ask more questions than he can,"
+exclaimed Neil when Devoe was safely out of hearing. "But I suppose
+that's the way to learn, eh?"
+
+Paul yawned loudly and shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"Funny he should have come just when we were talking about him, wasn't
+it?" Neil pursued. "What do you think of him?"
+
+"Well, if you ask me," Paul answered, "I think he's a conceited,
+stuck-up prig!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+NEIL MAKES ACQUAINTANCES
+
+Neil's and Paul's college life began early the next morning when,
+sitting side by side in the dim, hushed chapel, they heard white-haired
+Dr. Garrison ask for them divine aid and guidance. Splashes and flecks
+of purple and rose and golden light rested here and there on bowed head
+and shoulders or lay in shafts across the aisles. From where he sat Neil
+could look through an open window out into the morning world of greenery
+and sunlight. On the swaying branch of an elm that almost brushed the
+casement a thrush sang sweet and clear a matin of his own. Neil made
+several good resolutions that morning there in the chapel, some of which
+he profited by, all of which he sincerely meant. And even Paul, far less
+impressionable than his friend, looked uncommonly thoughtful all the way
+back to their room, a way that led through the elm-arched nave of
+College Place and across the common with its broad expanses of
+sun-flecked sward and its simple granite shaft commemorating the heroes
+of the civil war.
+
+At nine o'clock, with the sound of the pealing bell again in their ears,
+with their books under their arms and their hearts beating a little
+faster than usual with pleasurable excitement, they retraced their path
+and mounted the well-worn granite steps of College Hall for their first
+recitation. What with the novelty of it all the day passed quickly
+enough, and four o'clock found the two lads dressed in football togs and
+awaiting the beginning of practise.
+
+There were some sixty candidates in sight, boys--some of them men as far
+as years go--of all sizes and ages, several at the first glance
+revealing the hopelessness of their ambitions. The names were taken and
+fall practise at Erskine began.
+
+The candidates were placed on opposite sides of the gridiron, and half a
+dozen footballs were produced. Punting and catching punts was the order
+of the day, and Neil was soon busily at work. The afternoon was warm,
+but not uncomfortably so, the turf was springy underfoot, the sky was
+blue from edge to edge, the new men supplied plenty of amusement in
+their efforts, the pigskins bumped into his arms in the manner of old
+friends, and Neil was happy as a lark. After one catch for which he had
+to run back several yards, he let himself out and booted the leather
+with every ounce of strength. The ball sailed high in a long arching
+flight, and sent several men across the field scampering back into the
+grand stand for it.
+
+"I guess you've done that before," said a voice beside him. A short,
+stockily-built youth with a round, smiling face and blue eyes that
+twinkled with fun and good spirits was observing him shrewdly.
+
+"Yes," answered Neil, "I have."
+
+"I thought so," was the reply. "But you're a freshman, aren't you?"
+
+"Yes," answered Neil, turning to let a low drive from across the
+gridiron settle into his arms. "And I guess you're not."
+
+"No, this is my third year. I've been on the team two." He paused to
+send a ball back, and then wiped the perspiration from his forehead. "I
+was quarter last year."
+
+"Oh," said Neil, observing his neighbor with interest, "then you're
+Foster?"
+
+"That's me. What are you trying for?"
+
+"Half-back. I played three years at Hillton."
+
+"Of course; you're the fellow Bob Devoe was talking about--or one of
+them; I think he said there were two of you. Which one are you?"
+
+"I'm the other one," laughed Neil. "I'm Fletcher. That's Gale over
+there, the fellow in the old red shirt; he was our captain at Hillton
+last year."
+
+Foster looked across at Paul and then back at Neil. He was evidently
+comparing them. He shook his head.
+
+"It's a good thing he's got dark hair and you've got light," he said.
+"Otherwise you wouldn't know yourselves apart; you're just of a height
+and build, and weight, too, I guess. Are you related?"
+
+"No. But we are pretty much the same height and weight. He's half an
+inch taller, and I think I weigh two pounds more."
+
+In the intervals of catching and returning punts the acquaintance
+ripened. When, at the end of three-quarters of an hour, Devoe gave the
+order to quit and the trainer sent them twice about the gridiron on a
+trot, Neil found Foster ambling along beside him.
+
+"Phew!" exclaimed the latter. "I guess I lived too high last summer and
+put on weight. This is taking it out of me finely; I can feel whole
+pounds melting off. It doesn't seem to bother you any," he added.
+
+"No, I haven't much flesh about me," panted Neil; "but I'm glad this is
+the last time around, just the same!"
+
+After their baths in the little green-roofed locker-house the two walked
+back to the yard together, Paul, as Neil saw, being in close
+companionship with a big youth whose name, according to Foster, was
+Tom Cowan.
+
+"He played right-guard last year," said Foster. "He's a soph; this is
+his third year."
+
+"Third year!" exclaimed Neil. "But how--"
+
+"Oh, Cowan was too busy to pass his exams last year," said Foster with a
+grin. "So they let him stay a soph. He doesn't care; a little thing
+like that never bothers Cowan." His tone was rather contemptuous.
+
+"Is he liked?" Neil asked.
+
+"Oh, yes; he's very popular among a small and select circle of
+friends--a very small circle." Then he dismissed Cowan with an airy wave
+of one hand. "By the way," he continued, "have you any candidate for the
+presidency of your class?"
+
+"No," Neil replied. "I haven't heard anything about it yet."
+
+"Good; then you can vote for 'Fan' Livingston. He's a _protégé_ of mine,
+you see; used to know him at St. Mathias; you'll like him. He's an
+awfully good, manly, straightforward chap, just the fellow for the
+place. The election comes off next Thursday evening. How about
+your friend?"
+
+"Gale? I don't think he has any one in view. I guess you can count on
+his vote, too."
+
+"Thanks; just mention it to him, will you? I'm booming Livingston, and I
+want to see him win. Can't you come round some evening the first of the
+week? I'd like you to meet him. And meanwhile just talk him up a bit,
+will you?"
+
+Neil promised and made an appointment to meet the candidate the
+following Saturday night at Foster's room in McLean Hall. The two parted
+at the gate, Foster going up to his room and Neil traversing the campus
+and the common to his own quarters. As he opened the study door he was
+surprised to hear voices within. Paul and his new acquaintance, Tom
+Cowan, were sitting side by side on the window-seat.
+
+"Hello," greeted the former. "How'd it go? Like old times, wasn't it?
+Neil, I want you to meet Mr. Cowan. Cowan has quarters up-stairs here.
+He's an old player, and we've been telling each other how good we are."
+
+Cowan looked for an instant as though he didn't quite appreciate the
+latter remark, but summoned a smile as he shook hands with Neil and
+complimented him on his playing in Hillton's last game with St. Eustace.
+Neil replied with extraordinary politeness. He was always
+extraordinarily polite to persons he didn't fancy, and his dislike of
+Cowan was instant and hearty. Cowan looked to be fully twenty-three
+years old, and owned to being twenty-one. He was fully six feet two, and
+apparently weighed about two hundred pounds. His face was rather
+handsome in a coarse, heavy-featured style, and his hands, as Neil
+observed, were not quite clean. Later, Neil discovered that they
+never were.
+
+After listening politely for some moments to Cowan's tales of former
+football triumphs and defeats, in all of which the narrator played,
+according to his words, a prominent part, Neil broke into the stream of
+his eloquence and told Paul of his meeting with Foster, and of their
+talk regarding the freshman presidency.
+
+"Well," answered Paul, smiling at Cowan, "you'll have to get out of that
+promise to Foster or whatever his name is, because we've got a plan
+better than that. The fact is, Neil, I'm going to try for the
+presidency myself!"
+
+"I suppose you're fooling?" gasped Neil.
+
+"Not a bit! Why shouldn't I have a fling at it? Cowan here has promised
+to help; in fact, it was he that suggested it. With his help and yours,
+and with the kind assistance of one or two fellows I know here, I dare
+say I can pull out on top. Anyhow, there's no harm in trying."
+
+"I think you'll win," said Cowan. "This chump Livingston that Foster is
+booming is a regular milksop; does nothing but grind, so they say; came
+out of St. Mathias with all kinds of silly prizes and such. What the
+fellows always want is a good, popular chap that goes in for athletics
+and that will make a name for himself."
+
+"Foster said Livingston was something of a dab at baseball," said Neil.
+
+"Baseball!" cried Cowan. "What's baseball? Why not puss-in-the-corner? A
+chap with a football reputation like Gale here can walk all round your
+baseball man. We'll carry it with a rush! You'll see! Freshmen are like
+a lot of sheep--show 'em the way and they'll fall over themselves to
+get there."
+
+"Well, we're freshmen ourselves, you know," said Neil sweetly. Cowan
+looked nonplussed for a moment. Then--
+
+"Oh, but you fellows are different; you've got sense. I was speaking of
+the general run of freshmen," he explained.
+
+"Thanks," murmured Neil. Paul scented danger.
+
+"I'll put the campaign in your hands and Cowan's, Neil," he said. "You
+know several fellows here--there's Wallace and Knowles and Jones.
+They're not freshmen, but they can give you introductions. Knowles is a
+St. Agnes man and there are lots of St. Agnes fellows in our class."
+
+"I think you're making a mistake," answered Neil soberly, "and I wish
+you'd give it up. Livingston's got lots of supporters, and he's had his
+campaign under way for a week. If you're defeated I think it'll hurt
+you; fellows don't like defeated candidates when--when they're
+self-appointed candidates."
+
+"Oh, of course, if you don't want to help," cried Paul, with a trace of
+anger in his voice, "I guess we can get on without you."
+
+"I'm sure you won't desert your chum, Fletcher," said Cowan. "And I
+think you're all wrong about defeated candidates. If a fellow makes a
+good fight and is worsted no fellow that isn't a cad does other than
+honor him."
+
+"Well, if you've made up your mind, Paul," answered Neil reluctantly,
+"of course I'll do all I can if Foster will let me out of my promise
+to him."
+
+"Oh, hang Foster!" cried Cowan. "He's a little fool!"
+
+"Is he?" asked Neil innocently. "I hadn't noticed it. Well, as I say,
+I'll do all I can. And I'll begin now by going over to see him."
+
+"That's the boy," said Paul. "Tell Foster there's a dark horse in the
+field."
+
+"And tell him I say the dark horse will win," added Cowan.
+
+Neil smiled back politely from the doorway.
+
+"I don't think I'd better mention your name, Mr. Cowan." He closed the
+door behind him, leaving Cowan much puzzled as to the meaning of the
+last remark, and sought No. 12 McLean. He found the varsity quarter-back
+writing a letter by means of a small typewriter, his brow heavily
+creased with scowls and his feet kicking exasperatedly at the legs of
+his chair.
+
+"Hello," was Foster's greeting. "Come in. And, I say, just look around
+on the floor there, will you, and see if you can find an L."
+
+"Find what?" asked Neil, searching the carpet with his gaze.
+
+"An L. There was one on this pesky machine a while ago, but
+I--can't--find--Ah, here it is! 'L-O-V-I-N-G-L-Y, T-E-D'! There, that's
+done. I bought this idiotic thing because some one said you could write
+letters on it in half the time it takes with a pen. Well, I began this
+letter last night, and I guess I've spent fully two hours on it
+altogether. For two cents I'd pitch it out the window!" He pushed back
+his chair and glared vindictively at the typewriter. "And look at the
+result!" He held up a sheet of paper half covered with strange
+characters and erasures. "Look how I've spelled 'allowance'--alliwzee!
+Do you think dad will know what I mean?"
+
+Neil shook his head dubiously.
+
+"Not unless he's looking for the word," he answered.
+
+"Well, he will be," grinned Foster. "Don't suppose you want to buy a
+fine typewriter at half price, do you?"
+
+Neil was sure he didn't and broached the subject of his call. Foster
+showed some amazement when he learned of Gale's candidacy, but at once
+absolved Neil from his promise.
+
+"Frankly, Fletcher, I don't think your friend has the ghost of a show,
+you know, but, of course, if he wants to try it it's all right. And I'm
+just as much obliged to you."
+
+During the next week Neil worked early and late for Paul's success. He
+made some converts, but not enough to give him much hope. Livingston was
+easily the popular candidate for the presidency, and Neil failed to
+understand where Cowan found ground for the encouraging reports that he
+made to Paul. Paul himself was hopeful all the way through, and lent ill
+attention to Neil's predictions of failure.
+
+"You always were a raven, chum," he would exclaim. "Wait until Thursday
+night."
+
+And Neil, without much hope, waited.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+AND SHOWS HIS METTLE
+
+The freshman election took place in one of the lecture rooms of Grace
+Hall. There was a full attendance of the entering class, while the
+absence of sophomores was considered by those who had heard of former
+freshman elections at Erskine as something unnatural and of
+evil portent.
+
+Paul, robbed of the support of Tom Cowan's presence, was noticeably ill
+at ease, and for the first time appeared to be in doubt as to his
+election. Fanwell Livingston was put in nomination by one of his St.
+Mathias friends in a speech that secured wide applause, and the
+nomination was duly seconded by a red-headed and very eloquent youth
+who, so Neil learned, was King, the captain of the St. Mathias baseball
+team of the preceding spring.
+
+"Are there any more nominations?" asked the chairman, a member of the
+junior class.
+
+South, a Hillton boy, arose and spoke at some length of the courage and
+ability for leadership of one of whom they had all heard; "of one who
+on the white-grilled field of battle had successfully led the hosts of
+Hillton Academy against the St. Eustace hosts." (Two St. Eustace
+graduates howled derisively.) South ended in a wild burst of flowery
+eloquence and placed in nomination "that triumphant football captain,
+that best of good fellows, Paul Dunlop Gale!"
+
+The applause which followed was flattering, though, had Paul but known
+it, it was rather for the speech than the nominee. And the effect was
+somewhat marred by several inquiries from different parts of the hall as
+to who in thunder Gale was. Neil secured recognition ere the applause
+had subsided, and seconded the nomination. He avoided rhetoric, and told
+his classmates in few words and simple phrases that Paul Gale possessed
+pluck, generalship, and executive ability; that he had proved this at
+Hillton, and, given the chance, would prove it again at Erskine.
+
+"Gale is a stranger to many of you fellows," he concluded, "but, whether
+you make him class president or whether you give that honor to another,
+he won't be a stranger long. A fellow that can pilot a Hillton football
+team to victory against almost overwhelming odds and through the
+greatest of difficulties as Gale did last year is not the sort to sit
+around in corners and watch the procession go by. No, sir; keep your eye
+on him. I'll wager that before the year's out you'll be prouder of him
+than of any man in your class. And, meanwhile, if you're looking for
+the right man for the presidency, a man that'll lead 1905 to a renown
+beside which the other classes will look like so many battered
+golf-balls, why, I've told you where to look."
+
+Neil sat down amid a veritable roar of applause, and Paul, totally
+unembarrassed by the praise and acclaim, smiled with satisfaction. "That
+was all right, chum," he whispered. "I guess we've got them on the
+run, eh?"
+
+But Neil shook his head doubtfully. Cries of "Vote! Vote!" arose, and in
+a moment or two the balloting began. While this was proceeding
+announcement was made that the annual Freshman Class Dinner would be
+held on the evening of the following Monday, October 7th. When the
+cheers occasioned by this information had subsided the chairman arose.
+
+"The result of the balloting, gentlemen," he announced, "is as follows:
+Livingston, 97; Gale, 45. Mr. Livingston is elected by a majority
+of 52."
+
+Shouts of "Livingston! Livingston! Speech! Speech!" filled the air, and
+were not stilled until some one arose and announced that the
+president-elect was not in the hall. Paul, after a glance of
+bewilderment at Neil, had sat silent in his chair with something between
+a sneer and a scowl on his face. Now he jumped up.
+
+"Come on; let's get out of here," he muttered. "They act like a lot of
+idiots." Neil followed, and they found themselves in a pushing throng at
+the door. The chairman was vainly clamoring for some one to put a motion
+to adjourn, but none heeded him. The crowd pushed and shoved, but made
+no progress.
+
+"Open that door," cried Paul.
+
+"Try it yourself," answered a voice up front. "It's locked!"
+
+A murmur arose that quickly gave place to cries of wrath and
+indignation. "The sophs did it!" "Where are they?" "Break the door
+down!" Those at the rear heaved and pushed.
+
+"Stop shoving, back there!" yelled those in front. "You're squashing us
+flat."
+
+"Everybody away from the door!" shouted Neil. "Let's see if we can't get
+it open." The fellows finally fell back to some extent, and Neil, Paul,
+and some of the others examined the lock. The key was still there, but,
+unfortunately, on the outside. Breaking the door down was utterly out of
+the question, since it was of solid oak and several inches thick. The
+self-appointed committee shook its several heads.
+
+"We'll have to yell for the janitor," said Neil. "Where does he hang
+out?"
+
+But none knew. Neil went to one of the three windows and raised it.
+Instantly a chorus of derision floated up from below. Gathered almost
+under the windows was a throng of sophomores, their upturned faces just
+visible in the darkness.
+
+"O Fresh! O Fresh!" "Want to come down?" "Why don't you jump?" These
+gibes were followed by cheers for "'04" and loud groans. Neil turned and
+faced his angry classmates.
+
+"Look here, fellows," he said, "we don't want to have to yell for the
+janitor with those sophs there; that's too babyish. The key's in the
+outside of the lock. I think I can get down all right by the ivy, and
+I'll unlock the door if those sophs will let me. If two or three of you
+will follow I guess we can do it all right."
+
+"Bully for you!" "Plucky boy!" cried the audience. But for a moment none
+came forward to share the risk. Then Paul pushed his way to the window.
+
+"Here, I'll go with you, chum," he said, with a suggestion of swagger.
+"We can manage those dubs down there alone. The rest of you can sit down
+and tell stories; we'll let you out in a minute," he added scathingly.
+
+"That's Gale," whispered some one. "Fresh kid!", added another angrily.
+But the gibe had the desired effect. Four other freshmen signified their
+willingness to die for their class, and Neil climbed on to the broad
+window-sill. His reappearance was the signal for another outburst from
+the watching sophomores.
+
+"Don't jump, sonny; you may hurt yourself." "He's going to fly, fellows!
+Good little Freshie's got wings!" "Say, we'll let you out in the
+morning! Good-night!"
+
+But when Neil, divesting himself of coat and shoes, swung out and laid
+hold of the largest of the big ivy branches that clung there to the
+wall, the jeers died away. The hall where the meeting had been held was
+on the third floor, and when Neil stepped from the window-sill he hung
+fully twenty-five feet from the ground. The ivy branch, ages old, was
+almost as large as his wrist, and quite strong enough to bear his weight
+just as long as it did not tear from its fastenings. Whether it would
+hold in place remained to be seen. Neil judged that if he could lower
+himself fifteen feet by its aid he could easily drop the rest of the
+distance without injury. The window above was black with watchers as he
+began his journey, and many voices cheered him on. Paul, his feet
+hanging over the black void, sat on the narrow ledge and waited
+his turn.
+
+"Go fast, chum," he counseled, "but don't lose your grip. I'll wait
+until you're down."
+
+"All right," answered Neil. Then, with a great rustling of the
+thick-growing leaves, he lowered himself by arm's lengths. The vine
+swayed and gave at every strain, but held. From below came the sound of
+clapping. Hand under hand he went. The oblong of faint light above
+receded fast. His stockinged feet gripped the vine tightly. In the group
+of sophomores the clapping grew into cheers.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"Good work, Freshie!" "You're all right!"
+
+Then, with the ground almost at his feet, Neil let go and dropped
+lightly into a bed of shrubbery. The fellows above applauded wildly.
+With a glance at the near-by group of sophomores, Neil ran. Several of
+the enemy started to intercept him, but were called back.
+
+"Let him go! He's all right! We've had our fun!" And Neil sprang up the
+steps and into the building without molestation. Meanwhile Paul was
+making his descent and receiving his meed of applause from friend and
+foe. And as he dropped to earth there came a sound of cheering from the
+building, and the freshmen, released by the unlocking of the door,
+emerged on to the steps and path.
+
+"Five this way!" was the cry. "Rush the sophs!"
+
+But wiser counsels prevailed and, each cheering loudly, the
+representatives of the rival classes took themselves off.
+
+Neil and Paul were the last to leave the building, since they had been
+obliged to return to the room for their shoes and coats. Paul had
+forgotten some of his disappointment during the later proceedings, and
+appeared very well satisfied with himself.
+
+"We showed them what Hillton chaps can do, chum," he said. "And I'll bet
+they'll regret electing that fellow Livingston before I'm through with
+them! Much I care about their old presidency! They're a pack of silly
+little kids, any way. Let's go to bed."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+MILLS, HEAD COACH
+
+"TO THE IN-FANTS OF 1905:
+
+"GREETING!
+
+"The class of 1904, an-i-mat-ed by the kind-li-est of sen-ti-ments, has,
+at an ex-pen-se of much time and thought, form-u-lat-ed the fol-low-ing
+RULES for the guid-ance of your todd-ling foot-steps at this the out-set
+of your col-lege car-eers. A strict ad-her-ence to these PRE-CEPTS will
+in-sure to you the ad-mi-ra-tion of your fond par-ents, the re-spect of
+your friends, and the love of the SOPH-O-MORE CLASS, which, in the
+ab-sence of rel-at-ives, will, with thought-ful, tender care, stand ever
+by to guard you from the world's hard knocks.
+
+"ATTEND, INFANTS!
+
+"1. R-spect for eld-ers and those in auth-or-ity is one of child-hood's
+most charm-ing traits. There-for take off your hat to all SOPH-O-MORES,
+and when in their pres-ence al-ways main-tain a def-er-en-tial sil-ence.
+
+"2. Tall hats and canes as art-i-cles of child-ren's attire are
+ex-treme-ly un-be-com-ing, and are there-for strict-ly pro-hib-it-ed.
+
+"3. Smok-ing, either of pipes, cig-ars, or cig-ar-ettes, stunts the
+growth and re-tards the dev-el-op-ment of in-tel-lect. Child-ren,
+be-ware!
+
+"4. A suf-fic-ien-cy of sleep and plain, whole-some fare are strong-ly
+re-com-mend-ed.
+
+ "Early to bed and early to rise
+ Makes little Freshie healthy and wise.
+
+"Avoid late hours and rich food, es-pec-ial-ly fudge.
+
+"5. That you may not be tempt-ed to trans-gress the pre-ceed-ing rule,
+it has been thought best to pro-hib-it the Freshman Din-ner, which in
+pre-vi-ous years has ruin-ed so many young lives. The hab-it of hold-ing
+these din-ners is a per-nic-ious one and must be stamp-ed out. To this
+end the CLASS OF 1904 will ex-ert its strong-est ef-forts, and you are
+here-by warn-ed that any at-tempt to re-vive this lam-ent-able cust-om
+will bring down up-on you severe chast-ise-ment.
+
+ "We must be cruel only to be kind;
+ Pause and reflect, who would be dined.
+
+"Heed and prof-it by these PRE-CEPTS, dear child-ren, that you may grow
+up to be great and noble men like those who sub-scribe them-selves,
+
+"Pa-ter-nal-ly yours,
+
+"THE CLASS OF 1904.
+
+"You are ad-ver-tis-ed by your lov-ing friends."
+
+This startling information, printed in sophomore red on big white
+placards, flamed from every available space in and about the campus the
+next morning. The nocturnal bill-posters had shown themselves no
+respecters of places, for the placards adorned not fences and walls
+alone, but were pasted on the granite steps of each recitation hall. All
+the forenoon groups of staid seniors, grinning juniors and sophomores,
+or vexed freshmen stood in front of the placards and read the
+inscriptions with varied emotions. But in the afternoon a cheering mob
+of the "infants" marched through the college and town and tore down or
+effaced every poster they could find. But they didn't get as far from
+the campus as the athletic field, and so it was not until Neil and Paul
+and one or two other freshmen reported for practise at four o'clock that
+it was discovered that the high board fence surrounding the field was a
+mass of the objectionable signs from end to end.
+
+"Oh, let them stay," said Neil. "I think they're rather funny myself.
+And as for their stopping the freshman dinner, why we'll wait and see.
+If they try it we'll have our chance to get back at them."
+
+"R-r-revenge!" muttered South, who, with a lacrosse stick over his
+shoulder and an attire consisting wholly of a pair of flapping white
+trunks, a faded green shirt, and a pair of canvas shoes, had come out to
+join the lacrosse candidates.
+
+"King suggested our getting some small posters printed in blue with just
+the figures ''05' on them, and pasting one on every soph's window," said
+Paul, "but Livingston wouldn't hear of it. I think it would be a good
+game, eh?"
+
+"Faculty'd kick up no end of a rumpus," said South.
+
+"I haven't heard that they are doing much about these things," answered
+Paul. "If the sophs can stick things around why can't we?"
+
+"You'd better ask the Dean," suggested Neil. "Hello, who's that chap?"
+
+They had entered the grounds and were standing on the steps of the
+locker-house. The person to whom Neil referred was just coming through
+the gate. He was a medium-sized man of about thirty years, with a
+good-looking, albeit very freckled face, and a good deal of sandy hair.
+The afternoon was quite warm, and he carried his straw hat in one very
+brown hand, while over his arm lay a sweater of Erskine purple, a pair
+of canvas trousers, and two worn shoes.
+
+"Blessed if I know who he is!" murmured South. They watched the newcomer
+as he traversed the path and reached the steps. As he passed them and
+entered the building he looked them over keenly with a pair of very
+sharp and very light blue eyes.
+
+"Wow!" muttered Paul. "He looked as though he was trying to decide
+whether I would taste better fried or baked."
+
+"I wonder--" began Neil. But at that moment Tom Cowan came up and Paul
+put the question to him.
+
+"The fellow that just came in?" repeated Cowan. "That, my boy, is a
+gentleman who will have you standing on your head in just about twenty
+minutes. Some eight or ten years ago he was popularly known hereabouts
+as 'Whitey' Mills. To-day, if you know your business, you'll address him
+as _Mister_ Mills."
+
+"Oh," said Neil, "he's the head coach, is he?"
+
+"He is, my young friend. And as he used to be one of the finest
+half-backs in the country, I guess you'll see something of him before
+you make the team. I dare say he can teach even you something about
+playing your position." Cowan grinned and passed on.
+
+"Oh, go to thunder!" muttered Neil, following him into the building.
+
+He found Mills being introduced by Devoe to such of the new candidates
+as were on hand.
+
+"You remember Cowan, I guess," Devoe was saying. "He played right-guard
+last year." Mills and Cowan shook hands. "And this is Fletcher, a new
+man," continued the captain, "and Gale, too; they're both Hillton
+fellows and played at half. It was Fletcher that made that fine run in
+the St. Eustace game. Gale was the captain last year."
+
+Mills shook hands with each, but beyond a short nod of his head and a
+brief "Glad to meet you," displayed no knowledge of their fame.
+
+"Grouchy chap," commented Paul when, the coach out of hearing, they were
+changing their clothes.
+
+"Well, he doesn't hurt himself talking," answered Neil. "But he looks
+as though he knew his business. His eyes are like little blue-steel
+gimlets."
+
+"Doesn't look much for strength, though," said Paul.
+
+But when, a few minutes later, Mills appeared on the gridiron in
+football togs, Paul was forced to alter his opinion. Chest, arms, and
+legs were a mass of muscle, and the head coach looked as though he could
+render a good account of himself against the stiffest line that could be
+put together.
+
+The practise began with ten minutes of falling on the ball. The
+candidates were lined out in two strings across the field, the old men
+in one, the new material in another. Neil and Paul were among the
+latter, and Mills held their ball. Standing at the right end of the
+line, he rolled the pigskin in front of and slightly away from the line,
+and one after another the men leaped forward and flung themselves upon
+it, missing it at first as often as not, and rolling about on the turf
+as though suddenly seized with fits. Neil rather prided himself on his
+ability to fall on the ball, and went at it like an old stager, or so he
+thought. But if he expected commendation he found none. When the last
+man had rolled around after the elusive pigskin, Mills went to the other
+end of the line and did it all over again.
+
+When it came Neil's turn he plunged out, found the ball nicely, and
+snuggled it against his breast. To his surprise when he arose Mills left
+his place and walked out to him.
+
+"Let's try that again," he said. Neil tossed him the ball and went back
+to his place. Mills nodded to him and rolled the pigskin toward him.
+Neil dropped on his hip, securing the ball under his right arm. Like a
+flash Mills was over him, and with a quick blow of his hand had sent the
+leather bobbing across the turf yards away.
+
+"When you get it, hold on to it," he said dryly. Neil arose with
+reddening cheeks and, amid the smiles of the others, went back to his
+place trying to decide whether, if he could have his way, the coach
+should perish by boiling oil or by merely being drawn and quartered. But
+after that it was a noticeable fact that the men clung to the ball when
+they got it as though it were a dearly loved friend.
+
+Later, passing down the line in front from end to end, the head coach
+threw the ball swiftly at the feet of one after another of the
+candidates, and each was obliged to drop where he stood and have the
+ball in his arms when he landed. When Mills came to Neil the latter was
+still nursing his resentment, and his cheeks still proclaimed that
+fact. After the boy had dropped on the ball and had tossed it back to
+the coach their eyes met. In the coach's was just the merest twinkle, a
+very ghost of a smile; but Neil saw it, and it said to him as plainly as
+words could have said, "I know just how you feel, my boy, but you'll get
+over it after a while."
+
+The coach passed on and the flush faded from Neil's cheeks; he even
+smiled a little. It was all right; Mills understood. It was almost as
+though they shared a secret between them. Alfred Mills, head football
+coach at Erskine College, had no more devoted admirer and partizan from
+that moment than Neil Fletcher, '05.
+
+Next the men were spread out until there was a little space between
+each, and the coach passed behind the line and shot the ball through,
+and they had an opportunity to see what they could do with a pigskin
+that sped away ahead of them. By careful management it is possible in
+falling on a football to bring almost every portion of the anatomy in
+violent contact with the ground, and this fact was forcibly brought home
+to Neil, Paul, and all the others by the time the work was at an end.
+
+"I've got bones I never knew the existence of before," mourned Neil.
+
+"Me too," growled Paul. "And half a dozen of my front teeth are aching
+from trying to bite holes in the ground; I think they're all loose. If
+they come out I'll send the dentist's bill to the management."
+
+A few minutes later Neil found himself at left half in one of the six
+squads of eleven men each that practised advancing the ball. They lined
+up in ordinary formation, and the ball was passed to one back after
+another for end runs. Mills went from squad to squad, criticizing
+briefly and succinctly.
+
+"Don't wait for the quarter to pass," he told Paul, who was playing
+beside Neil. "On your toes and run hard. Have confidence in your
+quarter. If the ball isn't ready for you it's not your fault. Try
+that again."
+
+And when Paul and Neil and the full-back had plowed round the left end
+once more--
+
+"Quarter, don't hold that ball as though your hand was frozen; keep your
+hand limber and see that you get the belly of the ball in it, not one
+end; then it won't tilt itself out. When you get the ball from center
+rise quickly, put your back against guard, and throw your weight there.
+And it's just as necessary for you to have confidence in the runner as
+it is for him to have faith in you. Don't fear that you'll be too quick
+for him; don't doubt but that he'll be there at the right instant. Keep
+that in mind and you'll soon have things going like clock-work. Now once
+more; ball to left half for a run around right end."
+
+When practise was over that day the new candidates were unanimous in the
+opinion that they had learned more that afternoon under Mills than they
+had learned during the whole previous week. Neil, Paul, and Cowan
+walked back to college together.
+
+"Yes, he's a great little coach," said Cowan, "and a nice chap when you
+get to know him; no frills on him, you know. And he's plumb full of
+pluck. They say that once when he played here at half-back he got the
+ball on Robinson's forty yards and walked down the field and over the
+line for a touch-down with half the Robinson team hanging on to his
+legs, and said afterward that he thought he _had_ felt some one tugging
+at him!" Neil laughed.
+
+"But he doesn't look so awfully strong," he objected.
+
+"Well, I guess he was in better trim then," answered Cowan. "Besides,
+he's built well, you see--most of his weight below his waist; when a
+chap's that way it's hard to pull him over. I remember last year in the
+game with Erstham I got through their tackle on a guard-back
+play, and--"
+
+But Neil had already heard that story of heroic deeds, and so lent a
+deaf ear to Cowan's boasting. When they reached Main Street a window
+full of the first issue of the college weekly, The Erskine Purple, met
+their sight, and they went in and bought copies. On the steps of the
+laboratory building they opened the inky-smelling journals and glanced
+through them.
+
+"Here's an account of last night's election," said Cowan. "That's quick
+work, isn't it? And you can read all about Livingston's brilliant
+career, Gale. By the way, have you met him yet?"
+
+Paul shook his head. "No, and I'm bearing up under it as well as can be
+expected."
+
+"You're not missing much," said Cowan. "Hello, here's the football
+schedule! Want to hear it?" Paul said he did, Neil muttered something
+unintelligible, and Cowan read as follows:
+
+ "E.C.F.B.A.
+
+ "SCHEDULE OF GAMES
+
+ "Oct. 12. Woodby at Centerport.
+ " 16. Dexter at Centerport.
+ " 23. Harvard at Cambridge.
+ " 26. Erstham at Centerport.
+ Nov. 2. State University at Centerport.
+ " 6. Arrowden at Centerport.
+ " 9. Yale at New Haven.
+ " 16. Artmouth at Centerport.
+ " 23. Robinson at Centerport."
+
+"By Jove!" said Cowan. "We've got seven home games this year! That's
+fine, isn't it? But I'll bet we'll find Woodby a tough proposition on
+the 12th. Last year we played her about the 1st of November, and she
+didn't do a thing to us. And look at the game they've got scheduled for
+a week before the Robinson game! That'll wear us out; Artmouth will put
+just about half of our men on the sick-list. And--Hello!" he said,
+dropping his voice; "talk of an angel!"
+
+A youth of apparently nineteen years was approaching them. He was of
+moderate height, rather slimly built, with dark eyes and hair, and
+clean-cut features. He swung a note-book in one hand, and was evidently
+in deep thought, for he failed to see the group on the steps, and would
+have passed without speaking had not Cowan called to him. Housed from
+his reverie, Fanwell Livingston glanced up, and, after nodding to Cowan
+and Neil, turned in at the gate.
+
+"I suppose you want congratulations," said Cowan. "Well, you can have
+mine."
+
+"And mine," added Neil. "And Gale here will extend his as soon as he's
+properly introduced. Mr. Gale--Mr. Livingston."
+
+"Victory--Defeat," added Cowan with a grin. The two candidates for the
+freshman presidency shook hands, Paul without enthusiasm,
+Livingston heartily.
+
+"Congratulations, of course," murmured the former.
+
+"Thank you," answered the president. "You're very generous. After all, I
+dare say you've got the best of it, for you'll have the satisfaction of
+knowing that if the fellows had chosen you you would have done much
+better than I shall. However, I hope we'll be friends, Mr. Gale."
+Livingston's smile was undeniably winning, and Paul was forced to
+return it.
+
+"You're very good," he answered quite affably. "I hope we will."
+Livingston nodded, smiled again, and turned to Cowan.
+
+"Well, they tell me you fellows are in for desperate deeds this year,"
+he said.
+
+"How's that?" asked Cowan.
+
+"Aren't you in on the sophomore councils? Why, I'm told that if the
+freshmen don't give up the dinner plan I'm to be kidnaped."
+
+"How'd you hear--" began Cowan. Then he paused with some confusion. "Who
+told you that rot?" he asked with a laugh.
+
+"Oh, it came in a roundabout way," answered Livingston. "I dare say it's
+just talk."
+
+"Some freshman nonsense," said Cowan. "I guess we'll do our best to keep
+you fellows from eating too much, but--" He shrugged his big shoulders.
+Livingston, observing him shrewdly, began for the first time since
+intelligence of the supposed project had reached him to give credence to
+it. But he laughed carelessly as he turned away.
+
+"Oh, well, we have to keep you fellows amused, of course, and if you
+like to try kidnaping you may."
+
+"I wish the sophs would try it," said Neil warmly. Cowan turned to him.
+
+"Well, if they did--_if_ they did--I guess they'd succeed," he drawled.
+
+"Well, if they do--_if_ they do," answered Neil, "I'll bet they won't
+succeed."
+
+"You'd stop us, perhaps?" sneered Cowan.
+
+"Easily," answered Neil, smiling sweetly; "there are only a hundred or
+so of you."
+
+"There's no one like a week-old freshman for self-importance," Cowan
+said, laughing in order to hide his vexation.
+
+"Unless it's a third-year sophomore," Neil retorted.
+
+"Oh, well," Paul interposed, "it's all poppycock, anyhow."
+
+"That's all," said Livingston.
+
+"Of course," agreed Cowan.
+
+Neil was silent.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+THE GENTLE ART OF HANDLING PUNTS
+
+Life now was filled with hard work for both Neil and Paul. Much of the
+novelty that had at first invested study with an exhilarating interest
+had worn off, and they had settled down to the daily routine of lectures
+and recitations just as though they had been Erskine undergrads for
+years instead of a week. The study and the adjoining bed-room were at
+last furnished to suit; The First Snow was hung, the "rug for the
+wash-stand" was in place, and the objectionable towel-rack had given way
+to a smaller but less erratic affair.
+
+Every afternoon saw the two boys on Erskine Field. Mills was a hard
+taskmaster, but one that inspired the utmost confidence, and as a result
+of some ten days' teaching the half hundred candidates who had survived
+the first weeding-out process were well along in the art of football.
+The new men were coached daily in the rudiments; were taught to punt and
+catch, to fall on the ball, to pass without fumbling, to start quickly,
+and to run hard. Exercise in the gymnasium still went on, but the
+original twenty-minute period had gradually diminished to ten. Neil and
+Paul, with certain other candidates for the back-field, were daily
+instructed in catching punts and forming interference. Every afternoon
+the practise was watched by a throng of students who were quick to
+applaud good work, and whose presence was a constant incentive to the
+players. There was a strong sentiment throughout the college in favor of
+leaving nothing undone that might secure a victory over Robinson. The
+defeat of the previous year rankled, and Erskine was grimly determined
+to square accounts with her lifelong rival. As one important means to
+this end the college was searched through and through for heavy
+material, for Robinson always turned out teams that, whatever might be
+their playing power, were beef and brawn from left end to right. And so
+at Erskine men who didn't know a football from a goal-post were hauled
+from studious retirement simply because they had weight and promised
+strength, and were duly tried and, usually, found wanting. One lucky
+find, however, rewarded the search, a two-hundred-pound sophomore named
+Browning, who, handicapped at the start with a colossal ignorance
+regarding all things pertaining to the gridiron, learned with wonderful
+rapidity, and gave every promise of turning himself into a phenomenal
+guard or tackle.
+
+On the 5th of October a varsity and a second squad were formed, and Neil
+and Paul found themselves at left and right half respectively on the
+latter. Cowan was back at right-guard on the varsity, a position which
+he had played satisfactorily the year before. Neil had already made the
+discovery that he had, despite his Hillton experience, not a little to
+learn, and he set about learning it eagerly. Paul made the same
+discovery, but, unfortunately for himself, the discovery wounded his
+pride, and he accepted the criticisms of coach and captain with rather
+ill grace.
+
+"That dub Devoe makes me very weary," he confided to Neil one afternoon.
+"He thinks he knows it all and no one else has any sense."
+
+"He doesn't strike me that way," answered his chum. "And I think he does
+know a good deal of football."
+
+"You always stick up for him," growled Paul. "And for Mills,
+too--white-haired, freckle-faced chump!"
+
+"Don't be an idiot," said Neil. "One's captain and t'other is coach, and
+they're going to rub it into us whenever they please, and the best thing
+for us to do is to take it and look cheerful."
+
+"That's it; we _have_ to take it," Paul objected. "They can put us on
+the bench if they want to and keep us there all the season; I know that.
+But, just the same, I don't intend to lick Devoe's boots or rub my head
+in the dirt whenever Mills looks at me."
+
+"Well, it looks to me as though you'd been rubbing your head in the dirt
+already," laughed Neil.
+
+"Connor stepped on me there," muttered Paul, wiping a clump of mud from
+his forehead. "Come on; Mills is yelling for us. More catching punts,
+I suppose."
+
+And his supposition was correct. Across the width of the sunlit field
+Graham, the two-hundred-and-thirty-pound center rush, stooped over the
+pigskin. Beside him were two pairs of end rushes, and behind him, with
+outstretched hands, stood Ted Foster. Foster gave a signal, the ball
+went back to him on a long pass, and he sent it over the gridiron toward
+where Neil, Paul, and two other backs were waiting. The ends came down
+under the kick, the ball thumped into Paul's hands, Neil and another
+formed speedy interference, and the three were well off before the ends,
+like miniature cyclones, were upon them and had dragged Paul to earth.
+
+The head coach, a short but sturdy figure in worn-out trousers and faded
+purple shirt, stood on the edge of the cinder track and viewed the work
+with critical eye. When the ends had trotted back over the field with
+the ball to repeat the proceeding, he made himself heard:
+
+"Spread out more, fellows, and don't all stand in a line across the
+field. You've got to learn now to judge kicks; you can't expect to
+always find yourself just under them. Fletcher, as soon as you've
+decided who is to take the ball yell out. Then play to the runner; every
+other man form into interference and get him up the field. Now then!
+Play quick!"
+
+The ball was in flight again, and once more the ends were speeding
+across under it. "Mine!" cried Neil. Then the leather was against his
+breast and he was dodging forward, Paul ahead of him to bowl over
+opposing players, and Pearse, a full-back candidate, plunging along
+beside. One--two--three of the ends were passed, and the ball had been
+run back ten yards. Then Stone, last year's varsity left end, fooled
+Paul, and getting inside him, nailed Neil by the hips.
+
+"Well tackled, Stone," called Mills. "Gale, you were asleep, man; Stone
+ought never to have got through there. Fletcher, you're going to lose
+the ball some time when you need it badly if you don't catch better than
+that. Never reach up for it; remember that your opponent can't tackle
+you until you've touched it; wait until it hits against your stomach,
+and then grip it hard. If you take it in the air it's an easy stunt for
+an opponent to knock it out of your hands; but if you've got it hugged
+against your body it won't matter how hard you're thrown, the ball's
+yours for keeps. Bear that in mind."
+
+On the next kick Neil called to Gale to take the pigskin. Paul misjudged
+it, and was forced to turn and run back. He missed the catch, a
+difficult one under the circumstances, and also missed the rebound. By
+this time the opposing ends were down on him. The ball trickled across
+the running track, and Paul stooped to pick it up. But Stone was ahead
+of him, and seizing the pigskin, was off for what would have been a
+touch-down had it been in a game.
+
+"What's the matter, Gale?" cried Mills angrily. "Why didn't you fall on
+that ball?"
+
+"It was on the cinders," answered Paul, in evident surprise. Mills made
+a motion of disgust, of tragic impatience.
+
+"I don't care," he cried, "if it was on broken glass! You've got orders
+to fall on the ball. Now bring it over here, put it down
+and--_fall_--_on_--_it_!"
+
+Neil watched his chum apprehensively. Knowing well Paul's impatience
+under discipline, he feared that the latter would give way to anger and
+mutiny on the spot. But Paul did as directed, though with bad grace, and
+contented himself with muttered words as he threw the pigskin to a
+waiting end and went back to his place.
+
+Soon afterward they were called away for a ten-minute line-up. Paul,
+still smarting under what in his own mind he termed a cruel indignity,
+played poorly, and ere the ten minutes was half up was relegated to the
+benches, his place at right half being taken by Kirk. The second managed
+to hold the varsity down to one score that day, and might have taken the
+ball over itself had not Pearse fumbled on the varsity's three yards. As
+it was, they were given a hearty cheer by the watchers when time was
+called, and they trotted to the bucket to be sponged off. Then those who
+had not already been in the line-up were given the gridiron, and the
+varsity and second were sent for a trot four times around the field, the
+watchful eye of "Baldy" Simson, Erskine's veteran trainer, keeping them
+under surveillance until they had completed their task and had trailed
+out the gate toward the locker-house, baths, and rub-downs.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+THE KIDNAPING
+
+Fanwell Livingston was curled in the window-seat in his front room, his
+book close to the bleared pane, striving to find light enough by which
+to study. Outside it was raining in a weary, desultory way, and the
+heavens were leaden-hued. Livingston's quarters were on the front of
+that big lemon-yellow house at the corner of Oak and King Streets, about
+equidistant from campus and field. The outlook to-day was far from
+inspiriting. When he raised his eyes from the pages before him he saw an
+empty road running with water; beyond that a bare, weed-grown, sodden
+field that stretched westward to the unattractive backs of the one-and
+two-storied shops on Main Street. Livingston's room wasn't in any sense
+central, but he liked it because it was quiet, because aside from the
+family he had the house to himself, and because Mrs. Saunders, his
+landlady, was goodness itself and administered to his comfort almost as
+his own mother would have done.
+
+The freshman president laid aside his book, grimaced at the dreary
+prospect, and took out his watch. "Ten minutes after five," he murmured.
+"Heavens, what a beastly dark day! I'll have to start to get dressed
+before long. Too bad we've got such weather for the affair." He glanced
+irresolutely toward the gas-fixture, and from thence to where his
+evening clothes lay spread out on the couch. For it was the evening of
+the Freshman Class Dinner. While he was striving to find energy
+wherewith to tear himself from the soft cushions and make a light,
+footsteps sounded outside his door, and some one demanded admission.
+
+"Come in!" he called.
+
+The door swung open, was closed swiftly and softly again, and Neil
+Fletcher crossed the room. He looked rather like a tramp; his hat was a
+misshapen thing of felt from which the water dripped steadily as he
+tossed it aside; his sweater--he wore no coat--was soaking wet; and his
+trousers and much-darned golf stockings were in scarcely better
+condition. His hair looked as though he had just taken his head from a
+water-bucket, and his face bespoke excitement.
+
+"They're coming after you, Livingston," he cried in an intense whisper.
+"I heard Cowan telling Carey in the locker-room a minute ago; they
+didn't know I was there; it was dark as dark. They've got a carriage,
+and there are going to be nearly a dozen of them. I ran all the way as
+soon as I got on to Oak Street. There wasn't time to get any of the
+fellows together, so I just sneaked right over here. You can get out now
+and go--somewhere--to our room or the library. They won't look for you
+there, eh? There's a fellow at the corner watching, but I don't think he
+saw me, and I can settle with him; or maybe you could get out the back
+way and double round by the railroad? You can't stay here, because
+they're coming right away; Cowan said--"
+
+"For heaven's sake, Fletcher, what do you mean?" asked Livingston. "You
+don't want me to believe that they're really going to run off with me?"
+
+Neil, gasping for breath, subsided on to the window-seat and nodded his
+head vigorously. "That's just what I do mean. There's no doubt about it,
+my friend. Didn't I tell you I heard Cowan--"
+
+"Oh, Cowan!"
+
+"I know, but it was all in earnest. Carey and he are on their way to
+Pike's stable for the carriage, and the others are to meet there.
+They've had fellows watching you all day. There's one at the corner
+now--a tall, long-nosed chap that I've seen in class. So get your things
+and get out as soon as you can move."
+
+Livingston, with his hands in his pockets, stared thoughtfully out of
+the window, Neil watching him impatiently and listening apprehensively
+for the sound of carriage wheels down the street.
+
+"It doesn't seem to me that they could be idiots enough to attempt such
+a silly trick," said Livingston at last. "You--you're quite sure you
+weren't mistaken--that they weren't stringing you?"
+
+"They didn't know I was there!" cried Neil in exasperation. "I went in
+late--Mills had us blocking kicks--and was changing my things over in a
+dark corner when they hurried in and went over into the next alley and
+began to talk. At first they were whispering, but after a bit they
+talked loud enough for me to hear every word."
+
+"Well, anyhow--and I'm awfully much obliged, Fletcher--I don't intend to
+run from a few sophs. I'll lock the front door and this one and let
+them hammer."
+
+"But--"
+
+"Nonsense; when they find they can't get in they'll get tired and go
+away."
+
+"And you'll go out and get nabbed at the corner! That's a clever
+program, I don't think!" cried Neil in intense scorn. "Now you listen to
+me, Livingston. What you want to do is to put your glad rags in a bag
+and--What's that?"
+
+He leaped to his feet and peered out of the window. Just within his
+range of vision a carriage, drawn by two dripping, sorry-looking nags,
+drew up under the slight shelter of an elm-tree about fifty yards away
+from the house. From it emerged eight fellows in rain-coats, while the
+tall, long-nosed watcher whom Neil had seen at the corner joined them
+and made his report. The group looked toward Livingston's window and
+Neil dodged back.
+
+"It's too late now," he whispered. "There they are."
+
+"Look a bit damp, don't they," laughed Livingston softly as he peered
+out over the other's shoulder. "I'll go down and lock the door."
+
+"No, stay here," said Neil. "I'll look after that; they might get you. I
+wish it wasn't so dark! How about the back way? Can't you get out there
+and sneak around by the field?"
+
+"I told you I wasn't going to run away from them," replied his host,
+"and I haven't changed my mind."
+
+"You're an obstinate ass!" answered Neil. He scowled at the calm and
+smiling countenance of the freshman president a moment, and then turned
+quickly and pulled the shades at the windows. "I've got it!" he cried.
+"Look here, will you do as I tell you? If you do I promise you we'll
+fool them finely."
+
+"I'm not going out of this room," objected Livingston.
+
+"Yes, you are--into the next one. And you're going to lock the door
+behind you; and I'm going to look after our sophomore callers. Now go
+ahead. Do as I tell you, or I'll go off and leave you to be eaten
+alive!" Neil, grinning delightedly, thrust the unwilling Livingston
+before him. "Now lock the door and keep quiet. No matter what you hear,
+keep quiet and stay in there."
+
+"But--"
+
+"You be hanged!" Neil pulled to the bed-room door, and listened until he
+heard the key turn on the other side. Then he stole to the window and,
+lifting a corner of the shade, peeped out. The group of sophomores were
+no longer in sight, but at that moment he heard the front door close
+softly. There was no time to lose. He found a match and hurriedly
+lighted one burner over the study table. Then, turning it down to a mere
+blue point of light, he flung himself back among the cushions on the
+window-seat, and with a heart that hammered violently at his
+ribs waited.
+
+Almost in the next moment there were sounds of shuffling feet outside
+the study door, a low voice, and then a knock. Neil took a long breath.
+
+"Come in," he called drowsily.
+
+The door opened. Neil arose and walked to the gas-fixture, knocking over
+a chair on his way.
+
+"Come in, whoever you are," he muttered. "Guess I was almost asleep." He
+reached up a hand and turned out the gas. The room, almost dark before,
+was now blackness from wall to wall. "Pshaw," said Neil, "I've turned
+the pesky thing out! Just stand still until I find a match or you'll
+break your shins." He groped his way toward the mantel. Now was the
+sophomores' opportunity, and they seized it. Neil had done his best to
+imitate Livingston's careful and rather precise manner of speaking, and
+the invaders, few of whom even knew the president of the freshman
+class by sight, never for an instant doubted that they had captured him.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Neil found himself suddenly seized by strong arms. With a cry of
+simulated surprise, he struggled feebly.
+
+"Here, what's up, fellows?" he remonstrated. "Look out, I tell you!
+_Don't do that_!"
+
+Then he was borne, protesting and kicking, feet foremost, through the
+door, out into the hall and down the stairs. When the front door was
+thrown open Neil was alarmed to find that although almost dark it was
+still light enough for his captors to discover their mistake. Hiding his
+face as best he could, he lifted his voice in loud cries for help. It
+worked like a charm. Instantly a carriage robe was thrown over his head
+and he was hurried down the steps, across the muddy sidewalk, and into
+the waiting vehicle which had been driven up before the house. Once
+inside, Neil was safe from detection, for the hack, the shades drawn up
+before the windows, was as dark as Egypt. Neil sighed his relief,
+muttered a few perfunctory threats from behind the uncomfortable folds
+of the ill-smelling robe, and, with one fellow sitting on his chest and
+three others holding his legs, felt the carriage start.
+
+Despite the enveloping folds about his head he could hear quite well;
+hear the horses' feet go _squish-squash_ in the mud; hear the carriage
+creak on its aged hinges; hear the shriek of a distant locomotive as
+they approached the railroad. His captors were congratulating
+themselves on the success of their venture.
+
+"Easier than I thought it'd be," said one, and at the reply Neil
+figuratively pricked up his ears.
+
+"Pshaw, I knew we'd have no trouble; Livingston was so cock-sure that we
+wouldn't try it that he'd probably forgotten all about it. I guess that
+conceited little fool Fletcher will talk out of the other side of his
+mouth for a while now. What do you think? He had the nerve to tell me
+last week that he guessed _he_ could prevent a kidnaping, as there were
+only about a hundred of us sophs!"
+
+The others laughed.
+
+"Well, he is a chesty young kid, isn't he?" asked a third speaker. "I
+guess it's just as well we didn't have to kidnap _him_, eh? By the way,
+our friend here seems ill at ease. Maybe we'd better get off of him now
+and give him a breath of air. We don't want a corpse on our hands."
+
+The sophomores found seats and the robe was unwound from about Neil's
+head, much to that youth's delight. He took a good long breath and,
+grinning enjoyably in the darkness, settled himself to make the best of
+his predicament. Now that he had discovered Tom Cowan to be one of his
+abductors, he was filled with such glee that he found it hard work to
+keep silent. But he did, and all the gibes of his captors, uttered in
+quite the most polite language imaginable, failed to elicit a reply.
+
+"Beautiful evening for a drive, is it not?" asked one.
+
+"I trust you had not planned to attend the freshman dinner to-night?"
+asked another. "For I fear we shall be late in reaching home."
+
+"You are quite comfortable? Is there any particular road you would like
+to drive? any part of our lovely suburbs you care to visit?"
+
+"Surly brute!" growled a fourth, who was Cowan. "Let's make him speak,
+eh? Let's twist his arm a bit."
+
+"You sit still or I'll punch your thick head," said the first speaker
+coldly. "What I dislike about you, Cowan, is that you are never able to
+forget that you're a mucker. I wish you'd try," he continued wearily,
+"it's so monotonous."
+
+Cowan was silent an instant; then laughed uncertainly.
+
+"I suppose you fancy you're a wit, Baker," he said, "but I think you're
+mighty tiresome."
+
+"Don't let it trouble you," was the calm reply. Some one laughed
+drowsily. Then there was silence save for the sound of the horses' feet,
+the complaining of the well-worn hack and the occasional voice of the
+driver outside on the box. Neil began to feel rather drowsy himself; the
+motion was lulling, and now that they had crossed the railroad-track and
+reached the turnpike along the river, the carriage traveled smoothly. It
+was black night outside now, and through the nearest window at which the
+curtain had been lowered Neil could see nothing save an occasional
+light in some house. He didn't know where he was being taken, and didn't
+much care. They rolled steadily on for half an hour longer, during which
+time two at least of his captors proclaimed their contentment by loud
+snoring. Then the carriage slowed down, the sleeping ones were awakened,
+and a moment later a flood of light entering the window told Neil that
+the journey was at an end.
+
+"Far as we go," said some one. "All out here and take the car ahead!" A
+door was opened, two of his captors got out, and Neil was politely
+invited to follow. He did so. Before him was the open door of a
+farm-house from which the light streamed hospitably. It was still
+drizzling, and Neil took shelter on the porch unchallenged; now that the
+abductors had got him some five miles from Centerport, they were not so
+attentive. The others came up the steps and the carriage was led away
+toward the barn.
+
+"If your Excellency will have the kindness to enter the house," said
+Baker, with low obeisance, "he will find accommodations which, while far
+from befitting your Excellency's dignity, are, unfortunately, the best
+at our command."
+
+Neil accepted the invitation silently, and entering the doorway, found
+himself in a well-lighted room wherein a table was set for supper. The
+others followed, Cowan grinning from ear to ear in anticipation of the
+victim's discomfiture. In his eagerness he was the first to catch sight
+of Neil's face. With a howl of surprise he sprang back, almost
+upsetting Baker.
+
+"What's the matter with you?" cried the latter. Cowan made no answer,
+but stared stupidly at Neil.
+
+"Eh? What?" Baker sprang forward and wheeled their victim into the
+light. Neil turned and faced them smilingly. The four stared in
+bewilderment. It was Baker who first found words.
+
+"_Well, I'll--be--hanged_!" he murmured.
+
+Neil turned placidly to the discomfited Cowan.
+
+"You see, Cowan," he said sweetly, "one against a hundred isn't such big
+odds, after all, is it?"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+THE BROKEN TRICYCLE
+
+As soon as Livingston heard the kidnapers staggering down-stairs with
+their burden he unlocked the bed-room door and stole to the window. He
+saw Neil, his head hidden by the carriage robe, thrust into the hack and
+driven away, and saw the conspirators for whom the vehicle afforded no
+room separate and disappear in the gathering darkness. Livingston's
+emotions were varied: admiration for Neil's harebrained but successful
+ruse, distaste for the sorry part taken by himself in the affair, and
+amusement over the coming amazement and discomfiture of the enemy were
+mingled. In the end delight in the frustration of the sophomores' plan
+gained the ascendency, and he resolved that although Neil would miss the
+freshman dinner he should have it made up to him.
+
+And so in his speech an hour or so later Fanwell Livingston told the
+astonished company of the attempted kidnaping and of its failure, and
+never before had Odd Fellows' Hall rang with such laughter and cheering.
+And a little knot of sophomores, already bewildered by the appearance
+of the freshman president on the scene, were more than ever at a loss.
+They stood under an awning across the street, some twenty or thirty of
+them, and asked each other what it meant. Content with the supposed
+success of the abduction, they had made no attempt to prevent the
+dinner. And now Livingston, who by every law of nature should be five
+miles out in the country, was presiding at the feast and moving his
+audience to the wildest applause.
+
+"But I helped put him in the hack!" Carey cried over and over.
+
+"And I saw it drive off with him!" marveled another.
+
+"And if that's Livingston, where's Baker, and Morton, and Cowan, and
+Dyer?" asked the rest. And all shook their heads and gazed bewildered
+through the rain to where a raised window-shade gave them occasional
+glimpses of "Fan" Livingston, a fine figure in dinner jacket and white
+shirt bosom, leading the cheering.
+
+"_Rah-rah-rah, Rah-rah-rah, Rah-rah-rah, Fletcher_!"
+
+The group under the awning turned puzzled looks upon each other.
+
+"Who's Fletcher? What are they cheering Fletcher for?" was asked. But
+none could answer.
+
+But over in the hall it was different. Not a lad there, perhaps, but
+would have been glad to have exchanged places with the gallant
+confounder of sophomore plots, who was pictured in most minds as
+starving to death somewhere out in the rain, a captive in the ungentle
+hands of the enemy.
+
+However, starving Neil certainly was not. For at that very moment,
+seated at the hospitable board of Farmer Hutchins, he was helping
+himself to his fifth hot biscuit, and allowing Miss Hutchins, a
+red-cheeked and admiring young lady of fourteen years, to fill his
+teacup for the second time. From the role of prisoner Neil had advanced
+himself to the position of honored guest. For after the first
+consternation, bewilderment, and mortification had passed, his captors
+philosophically accepted the situation, and under the benign influence
+of cold chicken and hot soda biscuits found themselves not only able to
+display equanimity, but to join in the laugh against themselves and to
+admire the cleverness displayed in their out-witting. Of the four
+sophomores Cowan's laughter and praise alone rang false. But Neil was
+supremely indifferent to that youth's sentiments. The others he soon
+discovered to be thoroughly good fellows, and there is no doubt but that
+he enjoyed the hospitality of Farmer Hutchins more than he would have
+enjoyed the freshman class dinner.
+
+At nine o'clock the drive back to Centerport began, and as the horses
+soon found that they were headed toward home the journey occupied
+surprisingly little time, and at ten Neil was back in his room awaiting
+the return of Paul. To Neil's surprise that gentleman was at first
+decidedly grumpy.
+
+"You might have let me into it," he grumbled.
+
+But Neil explained and apologized until at length peace was restored.
+Then he had to tell Paul all about it from first to last, and Paul
+laughed until he choked; "I--I just wish--wish I had--seen Cowan's--face
+when--he--found it--out!" he shrieked.
+
+One result of that night's adventure was that the Class of 1905 was
+never thereafter bothered in the slightest degree by the sophomores; it
+appeared to be the generally accepted verdict that the freshmen had
+established their right to immunity from all molestation. Another result
+was that Neil became a class hero and a college notable. Younger
+freshmen pointed him out to each other in admiring awe; older and more
+influential ones went out of their way to claim recognition from him;
+sophomores viewed him with more than passing interest, and upper-class
+men predicted for him a brilliant college career. Even the Dean, when he
+passed Neil the following afternoon and returned his bow, allowing
+himself something almost approaching a grin. Neil, however, bore his
+honors modestly even while acknowledging to himself the benefit of them.
+He learned that his chances of making a certain society, membership in
+which was one of his highest ambitions, had been more than doubled, and
+was glad accordingly. (He was duly elected and underwent rigorous
+initiation proudly and joyfully.)
+
+The kidnaping affair even affected his football standing, for Mills and
+Devoe and Simson, the trainer, spoke or looked applause, while the head
+coach thereafter displayed quite a personal interest in him. Several
+days subsequent to the affair Neil was taking dummy practise with the
+rest of the second eleven. Mills had appropriated the invention of a
+Harvard trainer, rigging the dummy with hook and eye-bolt, so that when
+properly tackled the stuffed canvas effigy of a Robinson player became
+detached from its cable and fell on to the soft loam much after the
+manner of a human being. But to bring the dummy from the hook
+necessitated the fiercest of tackling, and many fellows failed at this.
+To-day Neil was one of this number. Twice the dummy, bearing upon its
+breast the brown R of Robinson, had sped away on its twenty-foot flight,
+and twice Neil had thrown himself upon it without bringing it down. As
+he arose after the second attempt and brushed the soil from his trousers
+Mills "went for him."
+
+"You're very ladylike, Fletcher, but as this isn't crewel-work or
+crochet you'll oblige me by being so rude as to bring that dummy off.
+Now, once more; put some snap into it! Get your hold, find your
+purchase, and then throw! Just imagine it's a sophomore, please."
+
+The roar of laughter that followed restored some of Neil's confidence,
+and, whether he deceived himself into momentarily thinking the dummy a
+sophomore, he tackled finely, brought the canvas figure from the hook,
+and triumphantly sat on the letter R.
+
+Signal practise followed work at the dummy that afternoon, and last of
+all the varsity and second teams had their daily line-up. Neil, however,
+did not get into this. Greatly to his surprise and disappointment
+McCullough took his place at left half, and Neil sat on the bench and
+aggrievedly watched the lucky ones peeling off their sweaters in
+preparation for the fray. But idleness was not to be his portion, for a
+moment later Mills called to him:
+
+"Here, take this ball, go down there to the fifteen-yard line, and try
+drop-kicking. Keep a strict count, and let me know how many tries you
+had and how many times you put it over the goal."
+
+Neil took the ball and trotted off to the scene of his labors, greatly
+comforted. Kicking goals from the fifteen-yard line didn't sound very
+difficult, and he set to work resolved to distinguish himself. But
+drop-kicks were not among Neil's accomplishments, and he soon found that
+the cross-bar had a way of being in the wrong place at the critical
+moment. At first it was hard to keep from turning his head to watch the
+progress of the game, but presently he became absorbed in his work. As a
+punter he had been somewhat of a success at Hillton, but drop-kicking
+had been left to the full-back, and consequently it was unaccustomed
+work. The first five tries went low, and the next four went high enough
+but wide of the goal. The next one barely cleared the cross-bar, and
+Neil was hugely tickled. The count was then ten tries and one goal. He
+got out of the way in order to keep from being ground to pieces by the
+struggling teams, and while he stood by and watched the varsity make its
+first touch-down, ruminated sadly upon the report he would have to
+render to Mills.
+
+But a long acquaintance with footballs had thoroughly dispelled Neil's
+awe of them, and he returned to his labor determined to better his
+score. And he did, for when the teams trotted by him on their way off
+the field and Mills came up, he was able to report 38 tries, of which 12
+were goals.
+
+"Not bad," said the coach. "That'll do for to-day. But whenever you find
+a football, and don't know what to do with it, try drop-kicking. Your
+punting is very good, and there's no reason why you shouldn't learn to
+kick from drop or placement as well. Take my advice and put your heart
+and brain and muscle into it, for, while we've got backs that can buck
+and hurdle and run, we haven't many that can be depended on to kick a
+goal, and we'll need them before long."
+
+Neil trotted out to the locker-house with throbbing heart. Mills had as
+good as promised him his place. That is, if he could learn to kick
+goals. The condition didn't trouble Neil, however; he _could_ learn to
+drop-kick and he _would_ learn, he told himself exultantly as he panted
+under the effects of a cold shower-bath. For a moment the wild idea of
+rising at unchristian hours and practising before chapel occurred to
+him, but upon maturer thought was given up. No, the only thing to do was
+to follow Mills's advice: "Put your heart and brain and muscle into it,"
+the coach had said. Neil nodded vigorously and rubbed himself so hard
+with the towel as to almost take the skin off. He was late in leaving
+the house that evening, and as all the fellows he knew personally had
+already taken their departure, he started back toward the campus alone.
+Near the corner of King Street he glanced up and saw something a short
+distance ahead that puzzled him. It looked at first like a cluster of
+bicycles with a single rider. But as the rider was motionless Neil soon
+came up to him.
+
+On nearer view he saw that the object was in reality a tricycle, and
+that it held beside the rider a pair of crutches which lay in supports
+lengthwise along one side. The machine was made to work with the hands
+instead of the feet, and a bow-shaped piece of steel which fitted around
+the operator's knee served as steering apparatus. The youth who sat
+motionless on the seat was a rather pale-faced, frail-looking lad of
+eighteen years, and it needed no second glance to tell Neil that he was
+crippled from his waist down. As Neil approached he was pulling the
+handles to and fro and looking perplexedly at the gear. The tricycle
+refused to budge.
+
+"I guess you've broken down," said Neil, approaching. "Stay where you
+are and I'll have a look."
+
+"Thanks, but you needn't bother," said the lad.
+
+But Neil was already on his knees. The trouble was soon found; the chain
+had broken and for the present was beyond repair.
+
+"But the wheels will go round, just the same," said Neil cheerfully.
+"Keep your seat and I'll push you back. Where do you room?"
+
+"Walton," was the answer. "But I don't like to bother you, Mr. Fletcher.
+You see I have my crutches here, and I can get around very well
+on them."
+
+"Nonsense, there's no use in your walking all the way to Walton. Here,
+I'll take the chain off and play horse. By the way, how'd you know
+my name?"
+
+"Oh, every one knows you since that kidnaping business," laughed the
+other, beginning to forget some of his shyness. "And besides I've heard
+the coach speak to you at practise."
+
+"Oh," said Neil, who was now walking behind the tricycle and pushing it
+before him, "then you've been out to the field, eh?"
+
+"Yes, I like to watch practise. I go out very nearly every day."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"Come to think of it, I believe I've seen you there," said Neil. "It's
+wonderful how you can get around on this machine as you do. Isn't it
+hard work at times?"
+
+"Rather, on grades, you know. But on smooth roads it goes very easily;
+besides, I've worked it every day almost for so long that I've got a
+pretty good muscle now. My father had this one made for me only two
+months ago to use here at Erskine. The last machine I had was very much
+heavier and harder to manage."
+
+"I guess being so light has made it weak," said Neil, "or it wouldn't
+have broken down like this."
+
+"Oh, I fancy that was more my fault than the tricycle's," answered the
+boy. As Neil was behind him he did not see the smile that accompanied
+the words.
+
+"Well, I'll take you home and then wheel the thing down to the bicycle
+repair-shop near the depot, eh?"
+
+"Oh, no, indeed," protested the other. "I'll--I'll have them send up for
+it. I wouldn't have you go way down there with it for anything."
+
+"Pshaw! that's no walk; besides, if you have them send, it will be some
+time to-morrow afternoon before you get it back."
+
+"I sha'n't really need it before then," answered the lad earnestly.
+
+"You might," said Neil. There was such a tone of finality in the reply
+that the boy on the seat yielded, but for an instant drew his face into
+a pucker of perplexity.
+
+"Thank you," he said; "it's awfully nice of you to take so much
+trouble."
+
+"I can't see that," Neil replied. "I don't see how I could do any less.
+By the way, what's your name, if you don't mind?"
+
+"Sydney Burr."
+
+"Burr? That's why you were stuck there up the road," laughed Neil.
+"We're in the same class, aren't we?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+At the middle entrance of Walton Hall Neil helped Burr on to his
+crutches, and would have assisted him up the steps had he not objected.
+
+"Please don't," he said, flushing slightly. "I can get up all right; I
+do it every day. My room's on this floor, too. I'm awfully much obliged
+to you for what you've done. I wish you'd come and see me some time--No.
+3. Do you--do you think you could?"
+
+"Of course," Neil answered heartily, "I'll be glad to. Three, you said?
+All right. I'll take this nag down to the blacksmith's now and get him
+reshod. If they can fix him right off I'll bring him back with me. Where
+do you stable him?"
+
+"The janitor takes it down-stairs somewhere. If I'm not here just give
+it to him, please. I wish, though, you wouldn't bother about bringing
+it back."
+
+"I'll ride him back," laughed Neil. "Good-night."
+
+"Good-night. Don't forget you're coming to see me."
+
+Sydney Burr smiled and, turning, climbed the steps with astonishing
+ease, using his crutches with a dexterity born of many years' dependence
+upon them. His lower limbs, slender and frail, swung from side to side,
+mere useless appendages. Neil sighed as he saw his new acquaintance out
+of sight, and then started on his errand with the tricycle.
+
+"Poor duffer!" he muttered. "And yet he seems cheerful enough, and looks
+happy. But to think of having to creep round on stilts or pull himself
+about on this contrivance! I mustn't forget to call on him; I dare say
+he hasn't many friends. He seems a nice chap, too; and he'd be
+frightfully good-looking if he wasn't so white."
+
+It was almost dark when he reached the repair-shop near the railroad,
+and the proprietor, a wizened little bald-headed man, was preparing
+to go home.
+
+"Can't fix anything to-night," he protested shrilly. "It's too late;
+come in the morning."
+
+"Well, if you think I'm going to wheel this thing back here to-morrow
+you've missed your guess," said Neil. "All it needs is to have a chain
+link welded or glued or something; it won't take five minutes. And the
+fellow that owns it is a cripple and can't go out until this machine's
+fixed. Now go ahead, like a good chap; I'll hold your bonnet."
+
+"Eh? What bonnet?" The little man stared perplexedly.
+
+"I meant I'd help," answered Neil unabashed.
+
+"Help! Huh! Lot's of help, you'd be to any one! Well, let's see it." He
+knelt and inspected the tricycle, grumbling all the while and shaking
+his head angrily. "Who said it was broke?" he demanded presently. "Queer
+kind of break; looks like you'd pried the link apart with a
+cold-chisel."
+
+"Well, I didn't; nor with a hot chisel. Besides, I've just told you it
+didn't belong to me. Do I look like a cripple?"
+
+"More like a fool," answered the other with a chuckle.
+
+"You're a naughty old man," said Neil sorrowfully, "and if you were my
+father I'd spank you." The other was too angry to find words, and
+contented himself with bending back the damaged link and emitting a
+series of choking sounds which Neil rightly judged to be expressions of
+displeasure. When the repair was finished he pushed the machine angrily
+toward the boy.
+
+"Take it and get out," he said.
+
+"Thanks. How much?"
+
+"Fifty cents," was the reply, given with a toothless grin and a chuckle.
+"Twenty-five cents for the job and twenty-five cents for working
+after hours."
+
+"Cheap enough," answered Neil, laying a quarter on the bench. "That's
+for the job; I'll owe you the rest."
+
+When he reached the first corner the proprietor of the repair-shop was
+still calling him names and shaking his fist in the air.
+
+"Looked just like a he-witch or something," chuckled Neil, as he
+propelled his steed toward the campus. "Maybe he will put a curse upon
+me and my right foot will wither up and I won't be able to kick goals!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+NEIL MAKES THE VARSITY
+
+On the 12th of October, Woodby College sent a team of light but very
+fast football players to Erskine with full determination to bring back
+the pigskin. And it very nearly succeeded. It was the first game of the
+season for Erskine, but Woodby had already played two, and was
+consequently rather more hardened. The first half ended with the score 6
+to 6, and the spectators, fully three hundred supporters of the Purple,
+looked glum. Neil and Paul were given their chance in the second half,
+taking the places of Gillam and Smith. Many other changes were made,
+among them one which installed the newly discovered Browning at left
+guard vice Carey, removed to the bench.
+
+There was no use in attempting to disguise the fact that Woodby
+literally played all around the home team. Her backs gained almost at
+will on end runs, and her punting was immeasurably superior. Foster, the
+Erskine quarter-back, sent kick after kick high into the air, and twenty
+yards was his best performance. On defense Woodby was almost equally
+strong, and had Erskine not outweighted her in the line some five pounds
+per man, would have forced her to kick every time. As it was, the
+purple-clad backs made but small and infrequent gains through the line,
+and very shortly found that runs outside of tackle or end were her best
+cards, even though, as was several times the case, her runners were
+nailed back of her line for losses.
+
+Team play was as yet utterly lacking in the Erskine eleven, and though
+the men were as a rule individually brilliant or decidedly promising,
+Woodby had far the best of it there. Fumbles were many on both sides,
+but Erskine's were the most costly. Stone's fumble of a free kick soon
+after the second half began gave Woodby her second touch-down, from
+which, luckily, she failed to kick goal. The veterans on the team,
+Tucker at left tackle, Graham at center, Cowan at right-guard, Foster at
+quarter, and Devoe at right end, played well with the glaring exception
+of Cowan, whose work in the second half especially was so slipshod that
+Mills, with wrath in his eye, took him out and put in Bell, a second
+eleven man.
+
+With the score 11 to 6 against her, Erskine braced up and fought
+doggedly to score. Neil proved the best ground-gainer, and made several
+five-and ten-yard runs around right end. Once, with the ball on Woodby's
+twelve yards and the audience shouting vehemently for a touch-down,
+Foster called on Paul for a plunge through right tackle. Paul made two
+yards, but in some manner lost the ball, a fumble that put Erskine back
+on her fifty-yard line and that sent her hopes of tying the score
+down to zero.
+
+The second half was to be but fifteen minutes long, and fully ten of the
+fifteen had gone by when Erskine took up her journey toward Woodby's
+goal again. Mason, the full-back, and Neil were sent plunging, bucking,
+hurdling at the enemy's breastworks, and time after time just managed to
+gain their distance in the three downs. Fortune was favoring Erskine,
+and Woodby's lighter men were slower and slower in finding their
+positions after each pile-up. Then, with the pigskin on Woodby's
+twenty-eight yards, Neil was given the ball for a try outside of right
+tackle, and by brilliantly leaving his interference, which had become
+badly tangled up, got safely away and staggered over the line just at
+the corner. The punt-out was a success and Devoe kicked goal, making the
+score 12 to 11 in Erskine's favor. For the rest of the half the home
+team was satisfied to keep Woodby away from its goal, and made no effort
+to score. Woodby left the field after the fashion of victors, which,
+practically, they were, while the Erskine players trotted subduedly back
+to the locker-house with unpleasant anticipations of what was before
+them--anticipations fully justified by subsequent events. For Mills tore
+them up very eloquently, and promised them that if they were scored on
+by the second eleven before the game with Harvard he'd send every man
+of them to the benches and take the second to Cambridge.
+
+Neil walked back to college beside Sydney Burr, insisting that that
+youth should take his hands from the levers and be pushed. Paul had got
+into the habit of always accompanying Cowan on his return from the
+field, and as Neil liked the big sophomore less and less the more he saw
+of him, he usually fell back on either Ted Foster or Sydney Burr for
+company. To-day it was Sydney. On the way that youth surprised Neil by
+his intelligent discussion and criticism of the game he had
+just watched.
+
+"How on earth did you get to know so much about football?" asked Neil.
+"You talk like a varsity coach."
+
+"Do I?" said Sydney, flushing with pleasure. "I--I always liked the
+game, and I've studied it quite a bit and watched it all I could. Of
+course, I can never play, but I get a good deal of enjoyment out of it.
+Sometimes"--his shyness returned momentarily and he hesitated--"sometimes
+I make believe that I'm playing, you know; put myself, in imagination,
+in the place of one of the team. To-day I--to-day I was you," he added
+with a deprecatory laugh.
+
+"You don't say?" cried Neil. Then the pathos of it struck him and he was
+silent a moment. The cripple's love and longing for sport in which he
+could never hope to join seemed terribly sad and gave him a choking
+sensation in his throat.
+
+"If I had been--like other fellows," continued Sydney, quite cheerfully,
+"I should have played everything--football, baseball, hockey,
+tennis--everything! I'd give--anything I've got--if I could just run
+from here to the corner." He was silent a minute, looking before him
+with eyes from which the usual brightness was gone. Then, "My, it must
+be good to run and walk and jump around just as you want to," he sighed.
+
+"Yes," muttered Neil, "but--but that was a good little run you made
+to-day." Sydney looked puzzled, then laughed.
+
+"In the game, you mean? Yes, wasn't it? And I made a touch-down and won
+the game. I was awfully afraid at one time that that Woodby quarter-back
+was going to nab me; that's why I made for the corner of the field
+like that."
+
+"I fancied that was the reason," answered Neil gravely. Then their eyes
+met and they laughed together.
+
+"Your friend Gale didn't play so well to-day," said Sydney presently.
+Neil shook his head with a troubled air.
+
+"No, he played rotten ball, and that's a fact. I don't know what's got
+into him of late. He doesn't seem to care whether he pleases Mills or
+not. I think it's that chap Cowan. He tells Paul that Mills and Devoe
+are imposing on him and that he isn't getting a fair show and all that
+sort of stuff. Know Cowan?"
+
+"Only by sight. I don't think I'd care to know him; he looks a good deal
+like--like--"
+
+"Just so," laughed Neil. "That's the way he strikes me."
+
+After dinner that evening Paul bewailed what he called his ill luck.
+Neil listened patiently for a while; then--
+
+"Look here, Paul," he said, "don't talk such rot. Luck had nothing to do
+with it, and you know it. The trouble was that you weren't in shape;
+you've been shilly-shallying around of late and just doing good enough
+work to keep Mills from dropping you to the scrub. It's that miserable
+idiot Tom Cowan that's to blame; he's been filling your head with
+nonsense; telling you that you are so good that you don't have to
+practise, and that Mills doesn't dare drop you, and lots of poppycock of
+that kind. Now, I'll tell you, chum, that the best thing to do is to go
+honestly to work and do your best."
+
+Paul was deeply insulted by this plain speaking, and very promptly took
+himself off up-stairs to Cowan's room. Of late he spent a good deal of
+his time there and Neil was getting worried. For Cowan was notably an
+idler, and the wonder was how he managed to keep himself in college even
+though he was taking but a partial course. To be sure, Cowan's fate
+didn't bother Neil a bit, but he was greatly afraid that his example
+would be followed by his roommate, who, at the best, was none too fond
+of study. Neil sat long that evening over an unopened book, striving to
+think of some method of weakening Cowan's hold on Paul--a hold that was
+daily growing stronger and which threatened to work ill to the latter.
+In the end Neil sighed, tossed down the volume, and made ready for bed
+without having found a solution of the problem.
+
+The following Monday Neil was rewarded for his good showing in the
+Woodby game by being taken on to the varsity. Paul remained on the
+second team, and Cowan, greatly to that gentleman's bewilderment and
+wrath, joined him there. The two teams, with their substitutes, went to
+training-table that day in Pearson's boarding-house on Elm Street, and
+preparation for the game with Harvard, now but nine days distant, began
+in earnest.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+THE RESULT OF A FUMBLE
+
+Sydney Burr had trundled himself out to the field and had drawn his
+tricycle close up to the low wooden fence that divides the gridiron from
+the grand stand and against which the players on the benches lean their
+blanketed backs. From there he had an uninterrupted view. It was a
+perfect afternoon. Overhead a few white clouds drifted lazily about
+against a warm blue sky. The sun shone brightly and mocked at light
+overcoats. But for all that there was an October sparkle in the air, and
+once in a while a tiny breeze from the north came across the yellowing
+field and whispered that winter was not far behind.
+
+Sydney had a rug thrown over his lower limbs and wore a warm white
+woolen sweater. There was quite a dash of color in his usually pale
+cheeks, and his blue eyes flashed with interest as he watched the men at
+practise. Near at hand a panting group of fellows were going through the
+signals, the quarter crying his numbers with gasps for breath, then
+passing the ball to half-or full-back and quickly throwing himself into
+the interference. Sydney recognized him as Bailey, the varsity
+substitute. Sydney knew almost all the players by sight now and the
+names of many.
+
+Near the east goal two lines of heaving, charging men were being coached
+by Mills in breaking through. Stowell, the big, good-natured substitute
+center, was bending over the ball. Sydney could hear Mills's
+sharp voice:
+
+"Now draw back, defense, and lunge into them! Get the start on them!"
+
+Then the ball was snapped and the two ranks heaved and pitched a moment
+before the offense broke through and scattered the turf with little
+clumps of writhing players.
+
+"That was good, Tucker, good!" cried Mills. "You did just as I told you.
+Now give the ball to the other side. Weight forward, defense, every one
+of you on his toes. _Browning, watch that ball!_ Now get into them,
+every one! Block them!"
+
+At the other end of the field six fellows were kicking goal and six
+others, stretched upon the turf, were holding the balls for them. Devoe
+was coaching. Sydney could see Neil, the farthest away of any, lifting
+the leather toward the posts from a difficult angle on the twenty-yard
+line. Even as he watched, the ball sailed away from Neil's toe and went
+fair over the cross-bar, and Sydney silently applauded. He set himself
+to recognizing the other kickers. There was Gale, the tall and rather
+heavy fellow in the crimson sleeves; and Mason, equally tall but all
+corners and angles; and Smith, and Gillam, and Foster. Devoe seemed to
+be laying down the law forcibly to Gale; he was gesticulating with his
+hands and nodding his head like a Chinese mandarin. Sydney could not
+hear what he was saying, nor could he see Gale's face; but in the
+attitude of the captain there was exasperation, and in that of Gale
+sullen impatience.
+
+Another group at signal practise drew nigh, and Sydney gave his
+attention to it. Reardon, the second eleven quarter, sang his signals in
+a queer, shrill voice that was irresistibly funny. In front of Sydney he
+raised himself, wiped his palms on his stained trousers, grimaced at one
+of the halves, and took a deep breath. Then--
+
+"_Signal_!" he cried. "_7--8--4--6!_"
+
+Eight half bounded by him, full-back fell in behind and took the ball,
+left half dashed after, and the group trotted away to line up again ten
+yards down the field. But presently the lines at the east goal broke up
+and trotted toward the benches, and Mills called the players in from all
+parts of the field. The water-pail was surrounded and the thirsty
+players rinsed out their mouths, well knowing the reprimand that awaited
+should they be rash enough to take even one swallow. Sweaters were
+hurriedly donned, Simson dealing them out from the pile on the ground,
+and the fellows sank on to the benches. Neil saw Sydney, and talked to
+him over the fence until he heard his name called from the line-up.
+
+"I think I shall make a touch-down to-day," said Sydney. Neil shook his
+head, smiling:
+
+"I don't know about that; you're not feeling so fit to-day, you know."
+
+"Oh, that doesn't matter," answered the cripple. "You just watch me."
+
+Neil laughed, and hurrying off, was fitted with his head harness and
+trotted out to his place. Sydney was mistaken, as events proved, for
+he--in the person of Neil Fletcher--failed to get over the second's
+goal-line in either of the short halves; which was also true of all the
+other varsity players. But if she didn't score, the varsity kept the
+second at bay, and that was a good deal. The second played desperately,
+being convinced that Mills would keep his promise and, if they succeeded
+in scoring on their opponents, give them the honor of facing Harvard the
+following Wednesday. But the varsity, being equally convinced of the
+fact, played quite as desperately, and the two teams trotted off with
+honors even.
+
+"Sponge off, everybody!" was the stentorian command from the trainer,
+and one by one the players leaned over while the big, dripping sponge
+was applied to face and head. Then sweaters were again donned and the
+four laps around the field began, the men trotting by twos and threes,
+or, in the case of the injured ones, trailing along behind.
+
+The next day, Wednesday, October 16th, Erskine played Dexter. Dexter is
+a preparatory school that has a way of turning out strong elevens, many
+of which in previous years had put up excellent fights against Erskine.
+On the present occasion Erskine went into the game with a line largely
+composed of substitutes and a back-field by no means as strong as
+possible. During the first half Dexter was forced to give all her
+attention to defending her goal, and had no time for incursions into
+Erskine territory. The home college ran up 17 points, Devoe missing one
+goal. In the second half Erskine made further changes in her team. Cowan
+took Witter's place at right-guard, Reardon went in at quarter in place
+of Bailey, and Neil, who had watched the first half greedily from the
+side-line, went in at left half.
+
+It was Dexter's kick-off, and she sent the ball fully forty yards.
+Reardon called to Neil to take it. That youth got it on his ten yards,
+and by fine dodging ran it back to the eighteen-yard line. From there it
+was advanced by straight line-plunging to Erskine's forty yards, and it
+seemed that a procession down the field to another touch-down had begun.
+But at this point Fate and Tom Cowan took a hand. Cowan was taken back
+of the line for a plunge through tackle. With right half and full lined
+up in tandem behind him he was given the ball and shot through easily
+for several yards. Then, his support gone, he staggered on for five
+yards more by sheer force of weight with two Dexter backs dragging at
+him, and there, for no apparent cause, dropped the pigskin. The Dexter
+quarter-back, running in to stop Cowan, was on it in a twinkling, had
+skirted the right end of the _mêlée_ and was racing toward Erskine's
+goal. It had happened so quickly and unexpectedly that the runner was
+fifteen yards to the good before pursuit began. Devoe and Neil took up
+the chase, but it was a hopeless task, and in another minute the little
+band of crimson-adorned Dexter supporters and substitutes on the
+side-line were yelling like mad. The Dexter quarter placed the ball
+nicely behind the very center of the west goal, and when it was taken
+out none but a cripple could have failed to kick it over the cross-bar.
+As Dexter's left-end was not a cripple her score changed from a 5 to
+a 6.
+
+But that was the end of her offensive work for that afternoon. Erskine
+promptly took the ball from her after the kick-off, and kept it until
+Neil had punctured Dexter's line between left-guard and tackle and waded
+through a sea of clutching foes twelve yards for a touch-down. Devoe
+once more failed at goal, and five minutes later the game came to an end
+with the final score 22 to 6. Dexter was happy and Erskine disgruntled.
+
+In the locker-house after the game Mills had some sharp things to say,
+and didn't hesitate to say them in his best manner. There was
+absolutely no favoritism shown; he began at one end of the line and went
+to the other, then dropped back to left half, took in quarter on the
+way, and ended up with full. Some got off easy; Neil was among them; and
+so was Devoe, for it is not a good policy for a coach to endanger a
+captain's authority by public criticism; but when it was all over no one
+felt slighted. And when all were beginning to breathe easier, thinking
+the storm had passed, it burst forth anew.
+
+"Cowan, I don't see how you came to drop that ball," said Mills, in
+fresh exasperation. "Why, great Scott, man, there was no one touching
+you except a couple of schoolboys tugging at your legs! What was the
+matter? Paralysis? Vertigo? Or haven't you learned yet, after two years
+of football playing, to hang on to the ball? There's a cozy nook waiting
+on the second scrub for fellows like you!"
+
+Cowan, his pride already sorely wounded, found the last too much for his
+temper.
+
+"No one can help an occasional accident," he blurted. "If I did fumble,
+there's no reason why you should insult me. Lots of fellows have fumbled
+before and got off without being walked on. I've played my position for
+two years, and I guess I know how to do it. But when a fellow is singled
+out as a--a scapegoat--"
+
+"That will do, Cowan," interrupted Mills quietly. "You've lost your
+temper. We don't want men on this team who can't stand criticism--"
+
+"Criticism!" sneered Cowan, looking very red and ugly.
+
+"Yes, criticism!" answered Mills sharply, "and scolding, too, my friend.
+I'm here to turn out a team that will win from Robinson and not to cater
+to any one's vanity; when it's necessary, I'm going to scold and say
+some hard things. But I've never insulted any fellow and I never will.
+I've had my eye on you ever since practise began, Cowan, and let me tell
+you that you haven't at any time passed muster; your playing's been
+slovenly, careless, and generally mean. You've soldiered half the time.
+And I think we can get along without you for the rest of the season."
+
+Mills, his blue eyes sparkling, turned away, and Stowell and White, who
+for a minute past had been striving to check Cowan's utterances, now
+managed to drag him away.
+
+"Shut up!" whispered White hoarsely. "Don't be a fool! Come out of
+here!" And they hauled him outside, where, on the porch, he gave vent
+anew to his wrath until they left him finally in disgust.
+
+He slouched in to see Paul after dinner that evening, much to Neil's
+impatience, and taking up a commanding position on a corner of the
+study-table, recited his tale of injustice with great eloquence. Paul,
+who had spent the afternoon with other unfortunates on the benches, was
+full of sympathy.
+
+"It's a dirty shame, Tom," he said. "And I'm glad you waded into Mills
+the way you did. It was fine!"
+
+"Little white-haired snake!" exclaimed Cowan. "Drops me from training
+just because I make a fumble! Why, you've fumbled, Paul, and so's
+Fletcher here; lots of times. But he doesn't lay _you_ off! Oh, dear,
+no; you're swells whose names will look well in the line-up for the
+Robinson game! But here I've played on the team for two years, and now
+off I go just because I dropped a ball. It's rank injustice!
+
+"I suppose he thinks I've got to play football here. If he does he's
+away off, that's all. I could have gone to Robinson this fall and had
+everything I wanted. They guaranteed me a position at guard or tackle,
+and I wouldn't have needed to bother with studies as I do here, either."
+The last remark called a smile to Neil's face, and Cowan unfortunately
+glanced his way and saw it.
+
+"I dare say if I was willing to toady to Mills and Devoe, and tell
+everybody they're the finest football leaders that ever came down the
+pike, it would be different," he sneered angrily. "Maybe then Mills
+would give me private instruction in goal-kicking and let me black his
+boots for him."
+
+Neil closed his book and leaned back in his chair, a little disk of red
+in each cheek.
+
+"Now, look here, Tom Cowan, let's have this out," he said quietly.
+"You're hitting at me, of course--"
+
+"Oh, keep out, chum," protested Paul. "Cowan hasn't mentioned you once."
+
+"He doesn't need to," answered Neil. "I understand without it. But let
+me tell you, Cowan, that I do not toady to either Mills or Devoe. I do
+treat them, however, as I would any one who was in authority over me. I
+don't think merely because I've played the game before that I know all
+the football there is to know."
+
+"Meaning that I do?" growled Cowan.
+
+"I mean that you've got a swelled head, Cowan, and that when Mills said
+you hadn't been doing your best he only told the truth, and what every
+fellow knows."
+
+"Shut up, Neil!" cried Paul angrily. "It isn't necessary for you to
+pitch into Cowan just because he's down on his luck."
+
+"I don't mind him," said Cowan, eying Neil with hatred. "He's sore about
+what I said. I dare say I shouldn't have said it. If he's Mills's
+darling--"
+
+Neil pushed back his chair, and rose to his feet with blazing eyes.
+
+"Kindly get out of here," he said. "I've had enough of your insults.
+This is my room; please leave it!" Cowan stared a moment in surprise,
+hesitated, threw a glance of inquiry at Paul's troubled and averted
+face, and slid from the table.
+
+"Of course you can put me out of your room," he sneered. "For that
+matter, I'm glad to leave it. I did think, though, that part of the shop
+was Paul's, but I dare say he has to humor you."
+
+"The room's as much mine as his," said Paul, "and I want you to stay in
+it." He looked defiantly over at his friend. Neil had not bargained for
+a quarrel with Paul, but was too incensed to back down.
+
+"And I say you sha'n't stay," he declared. "Paul and I will settle the
+proprietorship of the room after you're out of it. Now you get!"
+
+"Maybe you'll put me out?" asked Cowan with a show of bravado. But he
+glanced toward the door as he spoke. Neil nodded.
+
+"Maybe I will," he answered grimly.
+
+"Cowan's my guest, Neil!" cried Paul. "And you've no right to put him
+out, and I sha'n't let you!"
+
+"He'll go out of here, if I have to fight him and you too, Paul!" Paul
+stared in wonderment. He was so used to being humored by his roommate
+that this declaration of war took his breath away. Cowan laughed with
+attempted nonchalance.
+
+"Your friend's a bit chesty, Paul," he said. "Perhaps we'd better humor
+him."
+
+"No, stay where you are," said Paul. "If he thinks he's boss of me he's
+mistaken." He glared wrathfully at Neil, and yet with a trifle of
+uneasiness. Paul was no coward, but physical conflict with Neil was
+something so contrary to the natural order that it appalled him. Neil
+removed the gorgeous bottle-green velvet jacket that he wore in the
+evenings, and threw open the study door. Then he faced Cowan. That
+gentleman returned his gaze for a moment defiantly. But something in
+Neil's expression caused his eyes to drop and seek the portal. He
+laughed uneasily, and with simulated indifference laid his hand on
+Paul's shoulder.
+
+"Come on, old chap," he said, "let's get out before we're torn to bits.
+There's no pleasure in staying with such a disagreeable fire-eater,
+anyhow. Come up to my room, and let him cool off."
+
+Paul hesitated, and then turned to follow Cowan, who was strolling
+toward the door. Angry as he was, deep in his heart he was glad to avoid
+conflict with his chum.
+
+"All right," he answered in a voice that trembled, "we'll go;
+but"--turning to Neil--"if you think I'm going to put up with this sort
+of thing, you're mistaken. You can have this room, and I'll
+get another."
+
+"I'd suggest your rooming with Cowan," answered Neil, "since you're so
+fond of him."
+
+"Your friend's jealous," laughed Cowan from the hall. Paul joined him,
+slamming the door loudly as he went.
+
+Neil heard Cowan's laughter and the sound of their steps as they climbed
+the stairs. For several moments he stood motionless, staring at the
+door. Then he shook his head, donned his jacket, and sat down again. Now
+that it was done, he was intensely sorry. As for the quarrel with Cowan,
+that troubled not at all; but an open breach with Paul was something new
+and something which, just at this time especially, might work for ill.
+Paul was already so far under Cowan's domination that anything tending
+to foster their friendship was unfortunate. Neil was ashamed, too, of
+his burst of temper, and the remainder of the evening passed
+miserably enough.
+
+When Paul returned he was cold and repellent, and answered Neil's
+attempts at conversation in monosyllables. Neil, however, was glad to
+find that Paul said nothing further about a change of quarters, and in
+that fact found encouragement. After all, Paul would soon get over his
+anger, he told himself; the two had been firm friends for three years,
+and it would take something more than the present affair to
+estrange them.
+
+But as the days passed and Paul showed no disposition to make friends
+again, Neil began to despair. He knew that Cowan was doing all in his
+power to widen the breach and felt certain that left to himself Paul
+would have forgotten his grievance long ago. Paul spent most of his time
+in Cowan's room when at home, and Neil passed many dull hours. One thing
+there was, however, which pleased him. Cowan's absence from the field
+worked a difference from the first in Paul's playing, and the latter was
+now evidently putting his heart into his work. He made such a good
+showing between the day of Cowan's dismissal and the following Wednesday
+that he was scheduled to play right half against Harvard, and was
+consequently among the little army of players and supporters that
+journeyed to Cambridge on that day.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+ON THE HOSPITAL LIST
+
+Harvard's good showing thus far during the season convinced Erskine that
+could she hold the crimson warriors down to five scores she would be
+doing remarkably well, and that could she, by any miracle, cross
+Harvard's goal-line she would be practically victorious. The team that
+journeyed to Cambridge on October 23d was made up as follows:
+
+Stone, l.e.; Tucker, l.t.; Carey, l.g.; Stowell, c.; Witter, r.g.;
+White, r.t.; Devoe, r.e.; Foster, q.b.; Fletcher, l.h.b.; Gale, r.h.b.;
+Mason, f.b.
+
+Besides these, eight substitutes went along and some thirty patriotic
+students followed. Among the latter was Sydney Burr and "Fan"
+Livingston. Neil had brought the two together, and Livingston had
+readily taken to the crippled youth. In Livingston's care Sydney had no
+difficulty in making the trip to Soldiers Field and back comfortably
+and safely.
+
+There is no need to tell in detail here of the Harvard-Erskine contest.
+Those who saw it will give Erskine credit for a plucky struggle against
+a heavier, more advanced, and much superior team. In the first half
+Harvard scored three times, and the figures were 17-0. In the second
+half both teams put in several substitutes. For Erskine, Browning went
+in for Carey, Graham for Stowell, Hurst for Witter, Pearse for Mason,
+and Bailey for Foster. In this half Harvard crossed Erskine's goal-line
+three more times without much difficulty, while Erskine made the most of
+a stroke of rare good luck, and changed her goose-egg for the figure 5.
+
+On the Purple's forty yards Harvard fumbled, not for the first time that
+day, and Neil, more by accident than design, got the pigskin on the
+bounce, and, skirting the opposing right end, went up the field for a
+touch down without ever being in danger. The Erskine supporters went mad
+with delight, and the Harvard stand was ruefully silent. Devoe missed a
+difficult goal and a few minutes later the game ended with a final score
+of 34-5. Mills, however, would gladly have yielded that five points, if
+by so doing he could have taken ten from the larger score. He was
+disappointed in the team's defense, and realized that a wonderful
+improvement was necessary if Robinson was to be defeated.
+
+And so the Erskine players were plainly given to understand the next day
+that they had not acquired all the glory they thought they had. The
+advance guard of the assistant coaches put in an appearance in the shape
+of Jones and Preston, both old Erskine football men, and took hold with
+a vim. Jones, a former guard, a big man with bristling black hair, took
+the line men under his wing and made them jump. Neil, Paul, and several
+others were taken in hand by Preston, and were daily put through a
+vigorous course of punting and kicking. Neil was fast acquiring speed
+and certainty in the art of kicking goals from drop and placement, while
+Paul promised to turn out a fair second choice.
+
+Jones, as every one soon learned, was far from satisfied with the line
+of material at his disposal. He wanted more weight, especially in the
+center trio, and was soon pleading with Mills to have Cowan reinstated.
+The head coach ultimately relented, and Devoe was given to understand
+that if Cowan expressed himself decently regretful and determined to do
+good work he could go back into the second. The big sophomore, who, by
+his frequent avowals, was in college for no other purpose than to play
+football, had simply been lost since his dismissal, and, upon hearing
+Devoe's message, eagerly came off his high horse and made a visit to
+Mills. What he said and what Mills said is not known; but Cowan went
+back into the second team at right-guard, and on Saturday was given a
+try at that position in the game with Erstham. He did so well that Jones
+was highly pleased, and Mills found it in his heart to forgive. The
+results of the Erstham game were both unexpected and important.
+
+Instead of the comparatively easy victory anticipated, Erskine barely
+managed to save herself from being played to a standstill, and the final
+figures were 6-0 in her favor. The score was made in the last eight
+minutes of the second half by fierce line-bucking, but not before half
+of the purple line had given place to substitutes, and one of the
+back-field had been carried bodily off the gridiron.
+
+With the ball on Erstham's twenty-six yards, where it had been
+desperately carried by the relentless plunging and hurdling of Neil,
+Smith, and Mason, Erstham twice successfully repelled the onslaught, and
+it was Erskine's third down with two yards to gain. To lose the ball by
+kicking was the last thing to be thought of, and so, despite the fact
+that hitherto well-nigh every attempt at end running had met with
+failure, Foster gave the ball to Neil for a try around the Erstham left
+end. It was a forlorn hope, and unfortunately Erstham was looking for
+it. Neil found his outlet blocked by his own interference, and was
+forced to run far out into the field. The play was a failure from the
+first. Erstham's big right half and an equally big line man tackled Neil
+simultaneously for a loss and threw him heavily.
+
+When they got off him Neil tried to arise, but, with a groan, subsided
+again on the turf. The whistle blew and Simson ran on. Neil was
+evidently suffering a good deal of pain, for his face was ashen and he
+rolled his head from side to side with eyes half closed. His right arm
+lay outstretched and without movement, and in an instant the trouble was
+found. Simson examined the injury quickly and called for the doctor, who
+probed Neil's shoulder with knowing fingers, while the latter's white
+face was being sopped with the dripping sponge.
+
+"Right shoulder's dislocated, Jim," said Dr. Prentiss quietly to the
+trainer. "Take hold here; put your hands here, and pull toward you
+steadily. Now!"
+
+Then Neil fainted.
+
+When he regained consciousness he was being borne from the field between
+four of his fellows. At the locker-house the injured shoulder was laid
+bare, and the doctor went to work.
+
+The pain had subsided, and only a queer soreness remained. Neil watched
+operations with interest, his face fast regaining its color.
+
+"Nothing much, is it?" he asked.
+
+"Not a great deal. You've smashed your shoulder-blade a bit, and maybe
+torn a ligament. I'll fix you up in a minute."
+
+"Will it keep me from playing?"
+
+"Yes, for a while, my boy."
+
+Bandage after bandage was swathed about the shoulder, and the arm was
+fixed in what Neil conceived to be the most unnatural and awkward
+position possible.
+
+"How long is this going to lay me up?" he asked anxiously. But the
+doctor shook his head.
+
+"Can't tell yet. We'll see how you get along."
+
+"Well, a week?"
+
+"Maybe."
+
+"Two?"
+
+"Possibly."
+
+"But--but it can't! It mustn't!" he cried. The door opened and Simson
+entered. "Simson," he called, "he says this may keep me laid up for two
+weeks. It won't, will it?"
+
+"I hope not, Fletcher. But you must get it well healed, or else it may
+go back on you again. Don't worry about--"
+
+"Don't worry! But, great Scott, the Robinson game's only a month off!"
+
+The trainer patted his arm soothingly.
+
+"I know, but we must make the best of it. It's hard lines, but the only
+thing to do is to take care of yourself and get well as soon as
+possible. The doc will get you out again as soon as it can be done, but
+you'll have to be doing your part, Fletcher, and keeping quiet and
+cheerful--"
+
+"Cheerful!" groaned Neil.
+
+"And getting strong. Now you're fixed and I'll go over to your room with
+you. How do you feel?"
+
+"All right, I suppose," replied Neil hopelessly.
+
+Simson walked beside him back to college and across the campus and the
+common to his room, and saw him installed in an easy-chair with a pillow
+behind the injured shoulder.
+
+"There you are," said the trainer. "Prentiss will look in this evening
+and I'll see you in the morning. You'd better keep indoors for a few
+days, you know. I'll have your meals sent over. Don't worry about this,
+but keep yourself cheerful and--"
+
+Neil leaned his head against the pillow and closed his eyes.
+
+"Oh, go 'way," he muttered miserably.
+
+When Paul came in half an hour later he found Neil staring motionless
+out of the window, settled melancholy on his face.
+
+"How bad is it, chum?" asked Paul. He hadn't called Neil "chum" for over
+a week--not since their quarrel.
+
+"Bad enough to spoil my chances for the Robinson game," answered Neil
+bitterly. Paul gave vent to a low whistle.
+
+"By Jove! I am sorry, old chap. That's beastly, isn't it? What does
+Prentiss say?"
+
+Neil told him and gained some degree of animation in fervid protestation
+against his fate. For want of another, he held the doctor to account for
+everything, only admitting Simson to an occasional share in the blame.
+Paul looked genuinely distressed, joining him in denunciation of
+Prentiss and uttering such bits of consolation as occurred to him. These
+generally consisted of such original remarks as "Perhaps it won't be as
+bad as they think." "I don't believe doctors know everything, after
+all." "Mills will make them get you around before two weeks, I'll bet."
+
+After dinner Paul returned to report a state of general gloom at
+training-table.
+
+"Every one's awfully sorry and cut up about it, chum. Mills says he'll
+come and look you up in the morning, and told me to tell you to keep
+your courage up." After his information had given out, Paul walked
+restlessly about the study, taking up book after book only to lay it
+down again, and behaving generally like a fish out of water. Neil,
+grateful for the other's sympathy, and secretly delighted at the healing
+of the breach, could afford to be generous.
+
+"I say, Paul, I'll be all right. Just give me the immortal Livy, will
+you? Thanks. And you might put that tray out of the way somewhere and
+shove the drop-light a bit nearer. That's better. I'll be all right now;
+you run along."
+
+"Run along where?" asked Paul.
+
+"Well, I thought maybe you were going out or--somewhere."
+
+Paul's face expressed astonishment. He took up a book and settled
+himself firmly in the wicker rocking-chair.
+
+"No," he said, "I'm not going anywhere."
+
+Neil studied in silence a while, and Paul turned several pages of his
+book. Then footsteps sounded on the stairs and Cowan's voice hailed Paul
+from beyond the closed door.
+
+"O Paul, are you coming along?"
+
+Paul glanced irresolutely from the door to Neil's face, which was bent
+calmly over his book. Then--"No," he called gruffly, "not to-night!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+SYDNEY STUDIES STRATEGY
+
+Neil was holding a levee. Livingston shared the couch with him. Foster
+reclined in Paul's armchair. Sydney Burr sat in the protesting wicker
+rocker, his crutches beside him, and South, his countenance much
+disfigured by strips of surgeon's plaster, grinned steadily from the
+table, where he sat and swung his feet. Paul was up-stairs in Cowan's
+room, for while he and Neil had quite made up their difference, and
+while Paul spent much of his leisure time with his chum, yet he still
+cultivated the society of the big sophomore at intervals. Neil, however,
+believed he could discern a gradual lessening of Paul's regard for
+Cowan, and was encouraged. He had grown to look upon his injury and the
+idleness it enforced with some degree of cheerfulness since it had
+brought about reconciliation between him and his roommate, and, as he
+believed, rescued the latter to some extent from the influence of Cowan.
+
+"Doc says the shoulder is 'doing nicely,' whatever that may mean," Neil
+was saying, "and that I will likely be able to get back to light work
+next week." The announcement didn't sound very joyful, for it was now
+only the evening of the fourth day since the accident, and "next week"
+seemed a long way off to him.
+
+"It was hard luck, old man," said South.
+
+"Your sympathy's very dear to me," answered Neil, "but it would seem
+more genuine if you'd stop grinning from ear to ear."
+
+"Can't," replied South. "It's the plaster."
+
+"He's been looking like the Cheshire cat for two days," said Livingston.
+"You see, when they patched him up they asked if he was suffering much
+agony, and he grinned that way just to show that he was a hero, and
+before he could get his face straight they had the plaster on. He gets
+credit for being much better natured than he really is."
+
+"Credit!" said South. "I get worse than that. 'Sandy' saw me grinning at
+him in class yesterday and got as mad as a March hare; said I was
+'deesrespectful.'"
+
+"But how did it happen?" asked Neil, struggling with his laughter.
+
+"Lacrosse," replied South. "Murdoch was tending goal and I was trying to
+get the ball by him. I tripped over his stick and banged my face against
+a goal-iron. That's all."
+
+"Seems to me it's enough," said Foster. "What did you do to Murdoch?"
+South opened his eyes in innocent surprise.
+
+"Nothing."
+
+"Nothing be blowed, my boy. Murdoch's limping to beat the band."
+
+"Oh!" grinned South. "That was afterward; he got mixed up with my stick,
+and, I fear, hurt his shins."
+
+"Well," said Neil, when the laughter was over, "football seems deadly
+enough, but I begin to think it's a parlor game for rainy evenings
+alongside of lacrosse."
+
+"There won't be many fellows left for the Robinson game," said Sydney,
+"if they keep on getting hurt."
+
+"That's so," Livingston concurred. "Fletcher, White, Jewell, Brown,
+Stowell--who else?"
+
+"Well, I'm not feeling well myself," said Foster.
+
+"We were referring to _players_, Teddy, my love," replied South sweetly.
+
+"Insulted!" cried Foster, leaping wildly to his feet. "It serves me
+right for associating with a lot of freshmen. Good-night, Fletcher, my
+wounded gladiator. Get well and come back to us; all will be forgiven."
+
+"I'd like the chance of forgiving the fellow that jumped on my
+shoulder," said Neil. "I'd send him to join Murdoch."
+
+"That's not nice," answered Foster gravely. "Forgive your enemies.
+Good-night, you cubs."
+
+"Hold on," said Livingston, "I'm going your way. Good-night, Fletcher.
+Cheer up and get well. We need you and so does the team. Remember the
+class is looking forward to seeing you win a few touch-downs in the
+Robinson game."
+
+"Oh, I'll be all right," answered Neil, "and if they'll let me into the
+game I'll do my best. Only--I'm afraid I'll be a bit stale when I get
+out again."
+
+"Not you," declared Livingston heartily. "'Age can not wither nor custom
+stale your infinite variety.'"
+
+"That's a quotation from--somebody," said South accusingly. "'Fan' wants
+us to think he made it up. Besides, I don't think it's correct; it
+should be, 'Custom can not age nor wither stale your various interests.'
+Hold on, I'm not particular; I'll walk along with you two. But fortune
+send we don't meet the Dean," he continued, as he slid to the floor. "I
+called on him Monday; a little affair of too many cuts; 'Mr. South,'
+said he sorrowfully, 'avoid two things while in college--idleness and
+evil associations.' I promised, fellows, and here I am breaking that
+promise. Farewell, Fletcher; bear up under your great load of
+affliction. Good-night, Burr. Kindly see that he gets his medicine
+regularly every seven minutes, and don't let him sleep in a draft;
+pajamas are much warmer."
+
+"Come on, you grinning idiot," said Foster.
+
+When the door had closed upon the three, Sydney placed his crutches
+under his arms and moved over to the chair beside the couch.
+
+"Look here, Neil, you don't really think, do you, that you'll have any
+trouble getting back into your place?"
+
+"I hardly know. Of course two weeks of idleness makes a big difference.
+And besides, I'm losing a lot of practise. This new close-formation that
+Mills is teaching will be Greek to me."
+
+"It's simple enough," said Sydney. "The backs are bunched right up to
+the line, the halfs on each side of quarter, and the full just
+behind him."
+
+"Well, but I don't see--"
+
+"Wait," interrupted Sydney, "I'll show you."
+
+He drew a folded sheet of paper from his pocket and passed it to the
+other. Neil scowled over it a moment, and then looked up helplessly.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"What is it?" he asked. "Something weird in geometry?"
+
+"No," laughed Sydney, "it's a play from close-formation. I drew it this
+morning."
+
+"Oh," said Neil. "Let's see; what--Here, explain it; where do I come
+in?"
+
+"Why, your position is at the left of quarter, behind the center-guard,
+and a little farther back. Full stands directly behind quarter. See?"
+
+"Pshaw! if we get into a crowd like that," said Neil, "we'll get all
+tied up."
+
+"No you won't; not the way Mills and Devoe are teaching it. You see, the
+idea is to knife the backs through; there isn't any plunging to speak of
+and not much hurdling. The forwards open up a hole, and almost before
+the ball's well in play one of the backs is squirming through. Quarter
+gives you the ball at a hand-pass, always; there's no long passing done;
+except, of course, for a kick. Being right up to the line when play
+begins it only takes you a fraction of a second to hit it; and then, if
+the hole's there you're through before the other side has opened their
+eyes. Of course, it all depends on speed and the ability of the line-men
+to make holes. You've got to be on your toes, and you've got to get off
+them like a streak of lightning."
+
+"Well, maybe it's all right," said Neil doubtfully, "but it looks like
+a mix-up. Who gets the ball in this play here?"
+
+"Right half. Left half plunges through between left-guard and center to
+make a diversion. Full-back goes through between left tackle and end
+ahead of right half, who carries the ball. Quarter follows. Of course
+the play can be made around end instead. What do you think of it?"
+
+"All right; but--I think I'd ought to have the ball."
+
+"You would when the play went to the right," laughed Sydney. "The fact
+is, I--this particular play hasn't been used. I sort of got it up
+myself. I don't know whether it would be any good. I sometimes try my
+hand at inventing plays, just for fun, you know."
+
+"Really?" exclaimed Neil. "Well, you are smart. I could no more draw all
+those nice little cakes and pies and things than I could fly. And it--it
+looks plausible, I think. But I'm no authority on this sort of thing.
+Are you going to show it to Devoe?"
+
+"Oh, no; I dare say it's no use. It may be as old as the hills; I
+suppose it is. It's hard to find anything new nowadays in
+football plays."
+
+"But you don't know," said Neil. "Maybe it's a good thing. I'll tell
+you, Syd, you let me have this, and I'll show it to Mills."
+
+"Oh, I'd rather not," protested Sydney, reddening. "Of course it
+doesn't amount to anything; I dare say he's thought of it long ago."
+
+"But maybe he hasn't," Neil persuaded. "Come, let me show it to him,
+like a good chap."
+
+"Well--But couldn't you let him think you did it?"
+
+"No; I'd be up a tree if he asked me to explain it. But don't you be
+afraid of Mills; he's a fine chap. Come and see me to-morrow night,
+will you?"
+
+Sydney agreed, and, arising, swung himself across the study to where his
+coat and cap lay.
+
+"By the way," he asked, "where's Paul to-night?"
+
+"He's calling on Cowan," answered Neil.
+
+Sydney looked as though he wanted to say something and didn't dare.
+Finally he found courage.
+
+"I should think he'd stay in his room now that you're laid up," he said.
+
+"Oh, he does," answered Neil. "Paul's all right, only he's a
+bit--careless. I guess I've humored him too much. Good-night. Don't
+forget to-morrow night."
+
+Mills called the following forenoon. Ever since Neil's accident he had
+made it his duty to inquire daily after him, and the two were getting
+very well acquainted. Neil likened Mills to a crab--rather crusty on the
+outside, he told himself, but all right when you got under the shell.
+Neil was getting under the shell.
+
+To-day, after Neil had reported on his state of health and spirits, he
+brought out Sydney's diagram. Mills examined it carefully, silently, for
+some time. Then he nodded his head.
+
+"Not bad; rather clever. Who did it; you?"
+
+"No, I couldn't if I was to be killed. Sydney Burr did it. Maybe you've
+seen him. A cripple; goes around on a tricycle."
+
+"Yes, I've seen the boy. But does he--has he played?"
+
+"Never; he's been a crip all his life." Mills opened his eyes in
+astonishment.
+
+"Well, if that's so this is rather wonderful. It's a good play,
+Fletcher, but it's not original; that is, not altogether. But as far as
+Burr's concerned it is, of course. Look here, the fellow ought to be
+encouraged. I'll see him and tell him to try his hand again."
+
+"He's coming here this evening," said Neil. "Perhaps you could look in
+for a moment?"
+
+"I will. Let me take this; I want Jones to see it. He thinks he's a
+wonder at diagrams," laughed Mills, "and I want to tell him this was got
+up by a crippled freshman who has never kicked a ball!"
+
+And so that evening Mills and Neil and Sydney gathered about the big
+study-table and talked long about gridiron tactics and strategy and the
+art of inventing plays. Mills praised Sydney's production and encouraged
+him to try again.
+
+"But let me tell you first how we're situated," said the head coach, "so
+that you will see just what we're after. Our material is good but light.
+Robinson will come into the field on the twenty-third weighing about
+eight pounds more to a man in the line and ten pounds more behind it.
+That's bad enough, but she's going to play tackle-back about the way
+we've taught the second eleven to play it. Her tackles will weigh about
+one hundred and eighty-five pounds each. She will take one of those men,
+range him up in front of our center-guard hole, and put two backs with
+him, tandem fashion. When that trio, joined by the other half and the
+quarter, hits our line it's going right through it--that is, unless we
+can find some means of stopping it. So far we haven't found that means.
+We've tried several things; we're still trying; but we haven't found the
+play we want.
+
+"If we're to win that game we've got to play on the defensive; we've got
+to stop tackle-back and rely on an end run now and then and lots of
+punting to get us within goal distance. Then our play is to score by a
+quick run or a field-goal. The offense we're working up--we'll call it
+close-formation for want of a better name--is, we think, the best we can
+find. The idea is to open holes quickly and jab a runner through before
+our heavier and necessarily slower opponents can concentrate their
+weight at the point of attack. For the close-formation we have, I think,
+plays covering every phase. And so, while a good offensive strategy
+will be welcome, yet what we stand in greatest need of is a play to stop
+Robinson's tackle-tandem. Now you apparently have ability in this line,
+Mr. Burr; and, what's more, you have the time to study the thing up.
+Supposing you try your hand and see what you can do. If you can find
+what we want--something that the rest of us can't find, by the
+way--you'll be doing as much, if not more, than any of us toward
+securing a victory over Robinson. And don't hesitate to come and see me
+if you find yourself in a quandary or whenever you've got anything
+to show."
+
+And Sydney trundled himself back to his room and sat up until after
+midnight puzzling his brains over the tackle-tandem play, finally
+deciding that a better understanding of the play was necessary before he
+could hope to discover its remedy. When he crawled into bed and closed
+his tired eyes it was to see a confused jumble of orange-hued lines and
+circles running riot in the darkness.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+MAKES A CALL
+
+Despite Neil's absence from Erskine Field, preparation for the crowning
+conflict of the year went on with vigor and enthusiasm. The ranks of the
+coaches were swelled from day to day by patriotic alumni, some of whom
+were of real help, others of whom merely stood around in what Devoe
+called their "store clothes" and looked wonderfully wise. Some came to
+stay and took up quarters in the village, but the most merely tarried
+overnight, and, having unburdened themselves to Mills and Devoe of much
+advice, went away again, well pleased with their devotion to alma mater.
+
+The signals in use during the preliminary season had now been discarded
+in favor of the more complicated system prepared for the "big game."
+Each day there was half an hour of secret practise behind closed gates,
+after which the assistant coaches emerged looking very wise and very
+solemn. The make-up of the varsity eleven had changed not a little since
+the game with Woodby, and was still being changed. Some positions were,
+however, permanently filled. For instance, Browning had firmly
+established his right to play left-guard, while the deposed Carey found
+a rôle eminently suited to him at right tackle. Stowell became first
+choice for center, and the veteran Graham went over to the second team.
+Stone at left end, Tucker at left tackle, Devoe at right end, and Foster
+at quarter, were fixtures.
+
+The problem of finding a man for the position of left half in place of
+Neil had finally been solved by moving Paul over there from the other
+side and giving his place to Gillam, a last year substitute. Paul's
+style of play was very similar to Neil's. He was sure on his feet, a
+hard, fast runner, and his line-plunging was often brilliant and
+effective. The chief fault with him was that he was erratic. One day he
+played finely, the next so listlessly as to cause the coaches to shake
+their heads. His goal-kicking left something to be desired, but as yet
+he was as good in that line as any save Neil. Gillam, although light,
+was a hard line-bucker and a hurdler that was afraid of nothing. In fact
+he gave every indication of excelling Paul by the time the Robinson
+game arrived.
+
+One cause of Paul's uneven playing was the fact that he was worried
+about his studies. He was taking only the required courses, seven in
+all, making necessary an attendance of sixteen hours each week; but
+Greek and mathematics were stumbling-blocks, and he was in daily fear
+lest he find himself forbidden to play football. He knew well enough
+where the trouble lay; he simply didn't give enough time to study. But,
+somehow, what with the all-absorbing subject of making the varsity and
+the hundred and one things that took up his time, the hours remaining
+for "grinding" were all too few. He wondered how Neil, who seemed quite
+as busy as himself, managed to give so much time to books.
+
+In one of his weekly evening talks to the football men Mills had
+strongly counseled attention to study. There was no excuse, he had
+asserted, for any of the candidates shirking lessons.
+
+"On the contrary, the fact that you are in training, that you are living
+with proper regard for sleep, good food, fresh air, and plenty of hard
+physical work, should and does make you able to study better. In my
+experience, I am glad to say, I have known not one football captain who
+did not stand among the first few in his class; and that same experience
+has proved to me that, almost without exception, students who go in for
+athletics are the best scholars. Healthful exercise and sensible living
+go hand in hand with scholarly attainment. I don't mean to say that
+every successful student has been an athlete, but I do say that almost
+every athlete has been a successful student. And now that we understand
+each other in this matter, none of you need feel any surprise if, should
+you get into difficulties with the faculty over your studies, I refuse,
+as I shall, to intercede in your behalf. I want men to deal with who are
+honest, hard-working athletes, and honest, hard-working students. My own
+experience and that of other coachers with whom I have talked, proves
+that the brilliant football player or crew man who sacrifices class
+standing for his athletic work may do for a while, but in the end is a
+losing investment."
+
+And on top of that warning Paul had received one afternoon a printed
+postal card, filled in here and there with the pen, which was
+as follows:
+
+"Erskine College, _November 4, 1901_.
+
+"Mr. Paul Gale.
+
+"Dear Sir: You are requested to call on the Dean, Tuesday, November 5th,
+during the regular office hours.
+
+"Yours respectfully,
+
+"Ephraim Levett, _Dean_."
+
+Paul obeyed the mandate with sinking heart. When he left the office it
+was with a sensation of intense relief and with a resolve to apply
+himself so well to his studies as to keep himself and the Dean
+thereafter on the merest bowing acquaintance. And he was, thus far,
+living up to his resolution; but as less than a week had gone by,
+perhaps his self-gratulation was a trifle early. It may be that Cowan
+also was forced to confer with the Dean at about that time, for he too
+showed an unusual application to text-books, and as a result he and Paul
+saw each other less frequently.
+
+On November 6th, one week after Neil's accident and just two weeks prior
+to the Robinson game, Erskine played Arrowden, and defeated her 11-0.
+Neil, however, did not witness that contest, for, at the invitation of
+and in company with Devoe, he journeyed to Collegetown and watched
+Robinson play Artmouth. Devoe had rather a bad knee, and was nursing it
+against the game with Yale at New Haven the following Saturday. Two of
+the coaches were also of the party, and all were eager to get an inkling
+of the plays that Robinson was going to spring on Erskine. But Robinson
+was reticent. Perhaps her coaches discovered the presence of the Erskine
+emissaries. However that may have been, her team used ordinary
+formations instead of tackle-back, and displayed none of the tricks
+which rumor credited her with having up her sleeve. But the Erskine
+party saw enough, nevertheless, to persuade them one and all that the
+Purple need only expect defeat, unless some way of breaking up the
+tackle-back play was speedily discovered. Robinson's line was heavy, and
+composed almost altogether of last year material. Artmouth found it
+well-nigh impregnable, and Artmouth's backs were reckoned good men.
+
+"If we had three more men in our line as heavy and steady as Browning,
+Cowan, and Carey," said Devoe, "we might hope to get our backs through;
+but, as it is, they'll get the jump on us, I fear, and tear up our
+offense before it gets agoing."
+
+"The only course," answered one of the coaches, "is to get to work and
+put starch into the line as well as we can, and to perfect the backs at
+kicking and running. Luckily that close-formation has the merit of
+concealing the point of attack until it's under way, and it's just
+possible that we'll manage to fool them."
+
+And so Jones and Mills went to work with renewed vigor the next day. But
+the second team, playing tackle-back after the style of Robinson's
+warriors, was too much for any defense that the varsity could put up,
+and got its distance time after time. The coaches evolved and tried
+several plays designed to stop it, but none proved really successful.
+
+Neil returned to practise that afternoon, his right shoulder protected
+by a wonderful leather contrivance which was the cause of much
+good-natured fun. He didn't get near the line-up, however, but was
+allowed to take part in signal practise, and was then set to kicking
+goals from placement. If the reader will button his right arm inside his
+coat and try to kick a ball with accuracy he will gain some slight idea
+of the difficulty which embarrassed Neil. When work was over he felt as
+though he had been trying, he declared, to kick left-handed. But he met
+with enough success to demonstrate that, given opportunity for practise,
+one may eventually learn to kick goals minus anything except feet.
+
+That happened to be one of Paul's "off days," and the way he played
+exasperated the coaches and alarmed him. He could not hide from himself
+the evident fact that Gillam was outplaying him five days a week. With
+the return of Neil, Paul expected to be ousted from the position of left
+half, and the question that worried him was whether he would in turn
+displace Gillam or be sent back to the second eleven. He was safe,
+however, for several days more, for Simson still laughed at Neil's
+demand to be put into the line-up, and he was determined that before the
+Yale game he would prove himself superior to Gillam.
+
+The following morning, Friday, Mills was seated at the desk in his room
+making out a list of players who were to participate in the Robinson
+game. According to the agreement between the rival colleges such lists
+were required to be exchanged not later than two weeks prior to the
+contest. The players had been decided upon the evening before by all the
+coaches in assembly, and his task this morning was merely to recopy the
+list before him. He had almost completed the work when he heard strange
+sounds outside his door. Then followed a knock, and, in obedience to his
+request, Sydney Burr pushed open the door and swung himself in on
+his crutches.
+
+The boy's face was alight with eagerness, and his eyes sparkled with
+excitement; there was even a dash of color in his usually pale cheeks.
+Mills jumped up and wheeled forward an easy-chair. But Sydney paid no
+heed to it.
+
+"Mr. Mills," he cried exultantly, "I think I've got it!"
+
+"Got what?" asked the coach.
+
+"The play we want," answered Sydney, "the play that'll stop Robinson!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+AND TELLS OF A DREAM
+
+Mills's face lighted up, and he stretched forth an eager hand.
+
+"Good for you, Burr! Let's see it. Hold on, though; sit down here first
+and give me those sticks. There we are. Now fire ahead."
+
+"If you don't mind, I'd like to tell you all about it first, before I
+show you the diagram," said Sydney, his eyes dancing.
+
+"All right; let's hear it," replied the head coach smiling.
+
+"Well," began Sydney, "it's been a puzzler. After I'd seen the second
+playing tackle-back I about gave up hopes of ever finding a--an
+antidote."
+
+"'Antidote's' good," commented Mills laughingly.
+
+"I tried all sorts of notions," continued Sydney, "and spoiled whole
+reams of paper drawing diagrams. But it was all nonsense. I had the
+right idea, though, all the time; I realized that if that tandem was
+going to be stopped it would have to be stopped before it hit
+our line."
+
+Mills nodded.
+
+"I had the idea, as I say, but I couldn't apply it. And that's the way
+things stood last night when I went to bed. I had sat up until after
+eleven and had used up all the paper I had, and so when I got into bed I
+saw diagrams all over the place and had an awful time to get to sleep.
+But at last I did. And then I dreamed.
+
+"And in the dream I was playing football. That's the first time I ever
+played it, and I guess it'll be the last. I was all done up in sweaters
+and things until I couldn't do much more than move my arms and head. It
+seemed that we were in 9 Grace Hall, only there was grass instead of
+floor, and it was all marked out like a gridiron. And everybody was
+there, I guess; the President and the Dean, and you and Mr. Jones, and
+Mr. Preston and--and my mother. It was awfully funny about my mother.
+She kept sewing more sweaters on to me all the time, because, as she
+said, the more I had on the less likely I was to get hurt. And Devoe was
+there, and he was saying that it wasn't fair; that the football rules
+distinctly said that players should wear only one sweater. But nobody
+paid any attention to him. And after a bit, when I was so covered with
+sweaters that I was round, like a big ball, the Dean whistled and we got
+into line--that is," said Sydney doubtfully, "it was sort of like a
+line. There was the President and Neil Fletcher and I on one side, and
+all the others, at least thirty of them, on the other. It didn't seem
+quite fair, but I didn't like to object for fear they'd say I
+was afraid."
+
+"Well, you _did_ have the nightmare," said Mills. "Then what?"
+
+"The other side got into a bunch, and I knew they were playing
+tackle-back, although of course they weren't really; they just all stood
+together. And I didn't see any ball, either. Then some one yelled 'Smash
+'em up!' and they started for us. At that Neil--at least I think it was
+Neil--and Prexy--I mean the President--took hold of me, lifted me up
+like a bag of potatoes, and hurled me right at the other crowd. I went
+flying through the air, turning round and round and round, till I
+thought I'd never stop. Then there was an awful bump, I yelled 'Down!'
+at the top of my lungs--and woke up. I was on the floor."
+
+Mills laughed, and Sydney took breath.
+
+"At first I didn't know what had happened. Then I remembered the dream,
+and all on a sudden, like a flash of lightning, it occurred to me that
+_that_ was the way to stop tackle-back!"
+
+"That? What?" asked Mills, looking puzzled.
+
+"Why, the bag of potatoes act," laughed Sydney. "I jumped up, lighted
+the gas, got pencil and paper and went back to bed and worked it out.
+And here it is."
+
+He drew a carefully folded slip of paper from his pocket and handed it
+across to Mills. The diagram, just as the head coach received it, is
+reproduced here.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Mills studied it for a minute in silence; once he grunted; once he
+looked wonderingly up at Sydney. In the end he laid it beside him on
+the desk.
+
+"I think you've got it, Burr," he said quietly, "I think you've got it,
+my boy. If this works out the way it should, your nightmare will be the
+luckiest thing that's happened at Erskine for several years. Draw your
+chair up here--I beg your pardon; I forgot. I'll do the moving myself."
+He placed his own chair beside Sydney's and handed the diagram to
+him. "Now just go over this, will you; tell me just what your idea is."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Sydney, still excited over the night's happenings, drew a ready pencil
+from his pocket, and began rather breathlessly:
+
+"I've placed the Robinson players in the positions that our second team
+occupies for the tackle-tandem. Full-back, left tackle, and right half,
+one behind the other, back of their guard-tackle hole. Now, as the ball
+goes into play their tandem starts. Quarter passes the ball to tackle,
+or maybe right half, and they plunge through our line. That's what they
+would do if we couldn't stop them, isn't it?"
+
+"They would, indeed," answered Mills grimly. "About ten yards through
+our line!"
+
+"Well, now we place our left half in our line between our guard and
+tackle, and put our full-back behind him, making a tandem of our own.
+Quarter stands almost back of guard, and the other half over here. When
+the ball is put in play our tandem starts at a jump and hits the
+opposing tandem just at the moment their quarter passes the ball to
+their runner. In other words, we get through on to them before they can
+get under way. Our quarter and right half follow up, and, unless I'm
+away off on my calculations, that tackle-tandem is going to stop on its
+own side of the line."
+
+Sydney paused and awaited Mills's opinion. The latter was silent a
+moment. Then--
+
+"Of course," he said, "you've thought of what's going to happen to that
+left half?"
+
+"Yes," answered Sydney, "I have. He's going to get most horribly banged
+up. But he's going to stop the play."
+
+"Yes, I think he is--if he lives," said Mills with a grim smile. "The
+only objection that occurs to me this moment is this: Have we the right
+to place any player in a position like this where the punishment is
+certain to be terrific, if not absolutely dangerous?"
+
+"I've thought of that, too," answered Sydney readily. "And I don't
+believe we--er--you have."
+
+"Well, then I think our play's dished at the start."
+
+"Why, not a bit, sir. Call the players up, explain the thing to them,
+and tell them you want a man for that position."
+
+"Ah, ask for volunteers, eh?"
+
+"Yes, sir. And you'll have just as many, I'll bet, as there are men!"
+
+Mills smiled.
+
+"Well, it's a desperate remedy, but I believe it's the only one, and
+we'll see what can be done. By the way, I observe that you've taken left
+half for the victim?"
+
+"Yes, sir; that's Neil Fletcher. He's the fellow for it, I think."
+
+"But I thought he was a friend of yours," laughed Mills.
+
+"So he is; that's why I want him to get it; he won't ask anything
+better. And he's got the weight and the speed. The fellow that
+undertakes it has got to be mighty quick, and he's got to have weight
+and plenty of grit. And that's Neil."
+
+"Yes, I think so too. But I don't want him to get used up and not be
+able to kick, for we'll need a field-goal before the game is over, if
+I'm not greatly mistaken. However, we can find a man for that place,
+I've no doubt. For that matter, we must find two at least, for one will
+never last the game through."
+
+"I suppose not. I--I wish I had a chance at it," said Sydney longingly.
+
+"I wish you had," said Mills. "I think you'd stand all the punishment
+Robinson would give you. But don't feel badly that you can't play; as
+long as you can teach the rest of us the game you've got honor enough."
+
+Sydney flushed with pleasure, and Mills took up the diagram again.
+
+"Guard and tackle will have their work cut out for them," he said. "And
+I'm not sure that left end can't be brought into it, too. There's one
+good feature about Robinson's formation, and that is we can imagine
+where it's coming as long as it's a tandem. If we stop them they'll have
+to try the ends, and I don't think they'll make much there. Well, we'll
+give this a try to-morrow, and see how it works. By the way, Burr," he
+went on, "you can get about pretty well on your crutches, can't you?"
+
+"Yes," Sydney answered.
+
+"Good. Then what's to prevent you from coming out to the field in the
+afternoons and giving us a hand with this? Do you think you could afford
+the time?"
+
+Sydney's eyes dropped; he didn't want Mills to see how near the tears
+were to his eyes.
+
+"I can afford the time all right," he answered in a voice that, despite
+his efforts, was not quite steady, "if you really think I can be of
+any use."
+
+Perhaps Mills guessed the other's pleasure, for he smiled gently as he
+answered:
+
+"I don't think; I'm certain. You know this play better than I do; it's
+yours; you know how you want it to go. You come out and look after the
+play; we'll attend to the players. And then, if we find a weak place in
+it, we can all get together and remedy it. But you oughtn't to try and
+wheel yourself out there and back every day. You tell me what time you
+can be ready each afternoon and I'll see that there's a buggy
+waiting for you."
+
+"Oh, no, really!" Sydney protested. "I'd rather not! I can get to the
+field and back easily, without getting at all tired; in fact, I need the
+exercise."
+
+"Well, if you're certain of that," answered the coach. "But any time
+you change your mind, or the weather's bad, let me know. If you can, I'd
+like you to come around here again this evening. I'll have Devoe and the
+coaches here, and we'll talk this--this 'antidote' over again.
+Well, good-by."
+
+Sydney swung himself to the door, followed by Mills, and got into his
+tricycle.
+
+"About eight this evening, if you can make it, Burr," said Mills.
+"Good-by." He stood at the door and watched the other as he trundled
+slowly down the street.
+
+"Poor chap!" he muttered. And then: "Still, I'm not so sure that he's an
+object of pity. If he hasn't any legs worth mentioning, the Almighty
+made it up to him by giving him a whole lot of brains. If he can't get
+about like the rest of us he's a great deal more contented, I believe,
+and if he can't play football he can show others how to. And," he added,
+as he returned to his desk, "unless I'm mistaken, he's done it to-day.
+Now to mail this list and then for the 'antidote'!"
+
+That night in Mills's room the assembled coaches and captain talked over
+Sydney's play, discussed it from start to finish, objected, explained,
+argued, tore it to pieces and put it together again, and in the end
+indorsed it. And Sydney, silent save when called on for an explanation
+of some feature of his discovery, sat with his crutches beside his chair
+and listened to many complimentary remarks; and at ten o'clock went back
+to Walton and bed, only to lie awake until long after the town-clock
+had struck midnight, excited and happy.
+
+Had you been at Erskine at any time during the following two weeks and
+had managed to get behind the fence, you would have witnessed a very
+busy scene. Day after day the varsity and the second fought like the
+bitterest enemies; day after day the little army of coaches shouted and
+fumed, pleaded and scolded; and day after day a youth on crutches
+followed the struggling, panting lines, instructing and criticizing, and
+happier than he had been at any time in his memory.
+
+For the "antidote," as they had come to call it, had been tried and had
+vindicated its inventor's faith in it. Every afternoon the second team
+hammered the varsity line with the tackle-tandem, and almost every time
+the varsity stopped it and piled it up in confusion. The call for
+volunteers for the thankless position at the front of the little tandem
+of two had resulted just as Sydney had predicted. Every candidate for
+varsity honors had begged for it, and some half dozen or more had been
+tried. But in the end the choice had narrowed down to Neil, Paul,
+Gillam, and Mason, and these it was that day after day bore the brunt of
+the attack, emerging from each pile-up beaten, breathless, scarred, but
+happy and triumphant. Two weeks is short time in which to teach a new
+play, but Mills and the others went bravely and confidently to work, and
+it seemed that success was to justify the attempt; for three days
+before the Robinson game the varsity had at last attained perfection in
+the new play, and the coaches dared at last to hope for victory.
+
+But meanwhile other things, pleasant and unpleasant, had happened, and
+we must return to the day which had witnessed the inception of Sydney
+Burr's "antidote."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+ROBINSON SENDS A PROTEST
+
+When Sydney left Mills that morning he trundled himself along Elm Street
+to Neil's lodgings in the hope of finding that youth and telling him of
+his good fortune. But the windows of the first floor front study were
+wide open, the curtains were hanging out over the sills, and from within
+came the sound of the broom and clouds of dust. Sydney turned his
+tricycle about in disappointment and retraced his path, through Elm
+Lane, by the court-house with its tall white pillars and green shutters,
+across Washington Street, the wheels of his vehicle rustling through the
+drifts of dead leaves that lined the sidewalks, and so back to Walton.
+He had a recitation at half-past ten, but there was still twenty minutes
+of leisure according to the dingy-faced clock on the tower of College
+Hall. So he left the tricycle by the steps, and putting his crutches
+under his arms, swung himself into the building and down the corridor to
+his study. The door was ajar and he thrust it open with his foot.
+
+"Please be careful of the paint," expostulated a voice, and Sydney
+paused in surprise.
+
+"Well," he said; "I've just been over to your room looking for you."
+
+"Have you? Sorry I wasn't--Say, Syd, listen to this." Neil dragged a
+pillow into a more comfortable place and sat up. He had been stretched
+at full length on the big window-seat. "Here it is in a nutshell," he
+continued, waving the paper he was reading.
+
+ "'First a signal, then a thud,
+ And your face is in the mud.
+ Some one jumps upon your back,
+ And your ribs begin to crack.
+ Hear a whistle. "Down!" That's all.
+ 'Tis the way to play football.'"
+
+"Pretty good, eh? Hello, what's up? Your face looks as bright as though
+you'd polished it. How dare you allow your countenance to express joy
+when in another quarter of an hour I shall be struggling over my head in
+the history of Rome during the second Punic War? But there, go ahead;
+unbosom yourself. I can see you're bubbling over with delightful news.
+Have they decided to abolish the Latin language? Or has the faculty been
+kidnaped? Have they changed their minds and decided to take me with 'em
+to New Haven to-morrow? Come, little Bright Eyes, out with it!"
+
+Sydney told his good news, not without numerous eager interruptions from
+Neil, and when he had ended the latter executed what he called a "Punic
+war-dance." It was rather a striking performance, quite stately and
+impressive, for when one's left shoulder is made immovable by much
+bandaging it is difficult, as Neil breathlessly explained, to display
+_abandon_--the latter spoken through the nose to give it the correct
+French pronunciation.
+
+"And, if you're not good to me," laughed Sydney, "I'll get back at you
+in practise. And I'm to be treated with respect, also, Neil; in fact, I
+believe you had better remove your cap when you see me."
+
+"All right, old man; cap--sweater--anything! You shall be treated with
+the utmost deference. But seriously, Syd, I'm awfully glad. Glad all
+around; glad you've made a hit with the play, and glad you've found
+something to beat Robinson with. Now tell me again about it; where do I
+come in on it?"
+
+And so Sydney drew a chair up to the table and drew more diagrams of the
+new play, and Neil looked on with great interest until the bell struck
+the half-hour, and they hurried away to recitations.
+
+The next day the varsity and substitutes went to New Haven. Neil wasn't
+taken along, and so when the result of the game reached the
+college--Yale 40, Erskine 0--he was enabled to tell Sydney that it was
+insanity for Mills and Devoe to expect to do anything without his
+(Neil's) services.
+
+"If they will leave me behind, Syd, what can they hope for save rout and
+disaster? Of course, I realize that I could not have played, but my
+presence on the side-line would have inspired them and have been very,
+very helpful. I'm sure the score would have been quite different, Syd."
+
+"Yes," laughed the other; "say fifty to nothing."
+
+"Your levity and disrespect pains me," mourned Neil.
+
+But despite the overwhelming nature of the defeat, Mills and Devoe and
+the associate coaches found much to encourage them. No attempt had been
+made to try the new defensive play, but Erskine had managed to make her
+distance several times. The line had proved steady and had borne the
+severe battering of the Yale backs without serious injury. The Purple's
+back-field had played well; Paul had been in his best form, Gillam had
+gained ground quite often through Yale's wings, and Mason, at full-back,
+had fought nobly. The ends had proved themselves quick and speedy in
+getting down under punts, and several of the Blue's tries around end had
+been nipped ingloriously in the bud. But, when all was said, the
+principal honors of the contest had fallen to Ted Foster, Erskine's
+plucky quarter, whose handling of the team had been wonderful, and
+whose catching and running back of punts had more than once turned the
+tide of battle. On the whole, Erskine had put up a good, fast,
+well-balanced game; had displayed plenty of grit, had shown herself well
+advanced in team-play, and had emerged practically unscathed from a
+hard-fought contest.
+
+On Monday Neil went into the line-up for a few minutes, displacing Paul
+at left-half, but did not form one of the heroic tandem. His shoulder
+bothered him a good deal for the first minute or two, but after he had
+warmed up to the work he forgot about it and banged it around so that
+Simson was obliged to remonstrate and threaten to take him out. On the
+second's twenty yards Neil was given a chance at a goal from placement,
+and, in spite of his right shoulder, and to the delight of the coaches,
+sent the leather over the bar. When he turned and trotted back up the
+field he almost ran over Sydney, who was hobbling blithely about the
+gridiron on his crutches.
+
+"Whoa!" cried Neil. "Back up! Hello, Board of Strategy; how do you find
+yourself?"
+
+"That was fine, Neil," said Sydney.
+
+"What?"
+
+"That goal."
+
+"Glad you liked it. I was beastly nervous," he laughed. "Had no idea I
+could do it. It's so different trying goals in a game; when you're just
+off practising it doesn't seem to bother you."
+
+"Oh, you'll do. Gale is growling like a bear because they took him out."
+
+"Is he?" asked Neil. "I'm sorry. Do you know whether he stands a good
+show for the game? Have you heard Mills or Devoe say anything about it?"
+Sydney shook his head.
+
+"I'm afraid Gillam's got us both boxed," continued Neil. "As for me, I
+suppose they'll let me in because I can sometimes kick a goal, but I'm
+worried about Paul. If he'd only--Farewell, they are lining up again."
+
+"I don't believe Gale will get into the Robinson game," thought Sydney
+as he took himself toward the side-line. "He seems a good player,
+but--but you never can tell what he's going to do; half the time he just
+sort of slops around and looks as though he was doing a favor by
+playing. I can't see why Neil likes him so well; I suppose it's because
+he's so different. Maybe he's a better sort when you know him
+real well."
+
+After practise was ended and the riotous half-hour in the locker-house
+was over, Neil found himself walking back to the campus with Sydney and
+Paul. Paul entertained a half-contemptuous liking for Sydney. To Neil he
+called him "the crip," but when in Sydney's presence was careful never
+to say anything to wound the boy's feelings--an act of consideration
+rather remarkable for Paul, who, while really kind at heart, was
+oftentimes careless about the sensibilities of others. This afternoon
+Paul was evidently downcast, too downcast to be even cross.
+
+"Well, I guess it's all up with me," he said as they passed through the
+gate and started down Williams Street toward college. "I'm glad you're
+back, chum, but I can see my finish."
+
+"Nonsense," said Neil, "you'll be back to-morrow. Gillam is putting up a
+star game, and that's a fact; but your weight will help you, and if you
+buckle down for the next few days you'll make it all right."
+
+But Paul refused to be comforted and remained silent and gloomy all the
+way home. Knowing how Paul had set his heart upon making the varsity for
+the Robinson game, Neil began to be rather worried himself. He felt,
+unnecessarily of course, in a measure responsible for the crowning of
+his friend's ambition. When he had prevailed on Paul to relinquish the
+idea of going to Robinson, he had derided the possibility of Paul
+failing to make the Erskine team; and now that possibility was rapidly
+assuming the appearance of a probability. Certainly the fault was
+Paul's, and not his; but the thought contained small comfort.
+
+Next day's practise, in preparation for Erskine's last game before the
+Robinson contest, proved Paul's fears far from groundless. Gillam, Neil,
+and Mason started work when the line-up was formed, and Paul looked on
+heart-brokenly from the bench. It was not until Neil had failed twice
+and succeeded once at field-goals, and Gillam had been well hammered by
+the second's tandem plays, that Paul secured a chance. Then Neil was
+taken out and his friend put in.
+
+Neil wrapped a frayed gray blanket about his shoulders and reflected
+ruefully upon events. He knew that he had played poorly; that he had
+twice tied up the play by allowing his thoughts to wander; that his
+end-running had been slow, almost listless, and that his performance at
+goal-kicking had been miserable. He had missed two tries from placement,
+one on the twenty yards and another on the twenty-seven, and had only
+succeeded at a drop-kick by the barest of margins. He couldn't even lay
+the blame on his injured shoulder, for that was no longer a factor in
+his playing; the bandages were off and only a leather pad remained to
+remind him of the incident. No, he had simply worried his stupid head
+over Paul's troubles, he told himself, and had thereby disappointed the
+coaches, the captain, and himself. Simson found him presently and sent
+him trotting about the field, an exercise that worked some of his gloom
+off and left him in a fairly cheerful frame of mind when he ran up the
+locker-house steps.
+
+But at dinner he found that his appetite had almost deserted him. Simson
+observed him gravely, and after the meal was over questioned closely.
+Neil answered rather irritably, and the trainer's uneasiness increased;
+but he only said:
+
+"Go to bed early to-night and lay off to-morrow. You'll be better by
+Monday. And you might take a walk to-morrow afternoon; go off into the
+country somewhere; see if you can't find some one to go with you. How's
+the shoulder? No trouble there, is there?"
+
+"No, there's no trouble anywhere; I just wasn't hungry."
+
+"Well, you do what I've told you and you'll get your appetite back, my
+boy."
+
+Neil turned away frowning and took himself to his lodging, feeling angry
+with Simson because he was going to keep him off the field, and angry
+with himself because--oh, just because he was.
+
+But Neil was not the only person concerned with Erskine athletics who
+was out of sorts that night. A general air of gloom had pervaded the
+dinner-table. Mills had been even silenter than usual; the three other
+coaches present had been plainly worried, and Simson, in spite of his
+attempts to keep the conversation cheerful, had showed that he too was
+bothered about something. A bomb-shell had landed in the Erskine camp
+and had exploded in Mills's quarters.
+
+On the front steps Neil met Cowan. The two always nodded to each other,
+but to-night Neil's curt salutation went unheeded. Cowan, with troubled
+face, hurried by him and went up the street toward Mills's rooms.
+
+"Every one's grouchy to-night," muttered Neil. "Even Cowan looks as
+though he was going to be shot."
+
+Meanwhile the athletic authorities of Erskine and the coaches were met
+in extraordinary session. They were considering a letter which had
+arrived that afternoon from Collegetown. In the letter Robinson
+announced her protest of Thomas L. Cowan, right-guard on the Erskine
+football team, on the score of professionalism.
+
+"It just means," wailed Foster, who had brought the tidings to Neil and
+Paul, "that it's all over with us. I don't know what Cowan has to say,
+but I'll bet a--I'll bet my new typewriter!--that Robinson's right. And
+with Cowan gone from right-guard, where are we? We haven't the ghost of
+a show. The only fellow they can play in his place is Witter, and he's a
+pygmy. Not that Witter doesn't know the position, for he does; but he's
+too light. Was there ever such luck? What good is Burr's patent,
+double-action, self-inking, cylindrical, switch-back defense if we
+haven't got a line that will hold together long enough for us to get off
+our toes? It--it's rotten luck, that's what it is."
+
+And the varsity quarter-back groaned dolorously.
+
+"But what does Cowan say?" asked Neil.
+
+"Don't ask me," said Foster. "I don't know what he says, and I don't
+believe it will matter. He's got professional written all over
+his face."
+
+"But he played last year," said Paul. "Why didn't they protest him
+then?"
+
+"I'll pass again," answered Foster. "Maybe they hadn't discovered
+it--whatever it is--then; maybe--"
+
+"Listen!" said Neil.
+
+Some one stamped up the steps and entered the front door. Foster looked
+questioningly at Neil.
+
+"Cowan?" he whispered. Neil nodded.
+
+Foster sprang to the study door and threw it open. The light from the
+room fell on the white and angry countenance of the right-guard.
+
+"Cowan," said Foster, "for heaven's sake, man, tell us about it! Is it
+all right?"
+
+But Tom Cowan only glared as he passed on up the stairs.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+A PLAN AND A CONFESSION
+
+Robinson's protest set forth succinctly that Cowan had, three years
+previous, played left tackle on the football team of a certain
+academy--whose right to the title of academy was often questioned--and
+had received money for his services. Dates and other particulars were
+liberally supplied, and the name and address of the captain of the team
+were given. Altogether, the letter was discouragingly convincing, and
+neither the coaches, the captain, nor the athletic officers really
+doubted the truth of the charge.
+
+Professor Nast, the chairman of the Athletic Committee, blinked gravely
+through his glasses and looked about the room.
+
+"You've sent for Mr. Cowan?" he asked.
+
+"Yes," Mills answered; "he ought to be here in a minute. How in the
+world was he allowed to get on to the team?"
+
+"Well, his record was gone over, as we believed, very thoroughly year
+before last," said Professor Nast; "and we found nothing against him. I
+think--ah--it seems probable that he unintentionally misled us. Perhaps
+he can--ah--explain."
+
+When, however, Cowan faced the group of grave-faced men it was soon
+evident that explanations were far from his thoughts. He had heard
+enough before the summons reached him to enable him to surmise what
+awaited him, and when Professor Nast explained their purpose in calling
+him before them, Cowan only displayed what purported to be honest
+indignation. He stormed violently against the Robinson authorities and
+defied them to prove their charge. Mills listened a while impatiently
+and then interrupted him abruptly.
+
+"Do you deny the charge, Cowan, or don't you?" he asked.
+
+"I refuse to reply to it," answered Cowan angrily. "Let them think what
+they want to; I'm not responsible to them. It's all revenge, nothing
+else. They tried to get me to go to them last September; offered me free
+coaching, and guaranteed me a position on the team. I refused. And
+here's the result."
+
+Professor Nast brightened and a few of those present looked relieved.
+But Mills refused to be touched by Cowan's righteousness, and asked
+brusquely:
+
+"Never mind what their motive is, Cowan. What we want to know is this:
+Did you or did you not accept money for playing left tackle on that
+team? Let us have an answer to that, please."
+
+"It's absurd," said Cowan hotly. "Why, I only played three games--"
+
+"Yes or no, please," said Mills.
+
+For an instant Cowan's gaze faltered. He glanced swiftly about the room
+and read only doubt or antagonism in the faces there. He shrugged his
+broad shoulders and replied sneeringly:
+
+"What's the good? You're all down on me now; you wouldn't believe me if
+I told you."
+
+"We're not all down on you," answered Mills. Professor Nast interrupted.
+
+"One moment, Mr. Mills. I don't think Mr. Cowan understands the--ah--the
+position we are in. Unless you can show to our satisfaction that the
+charge is untrue, Mr. Cowan, we shall be obliged, under the terms of our
+agreement with Robinson, to consider you ineligible. In that case, you
+could not, of course, play against Robinson; in fact, you would not be
+admitted to any branch of university athletics. Now, don't you think
+that the best course for you to follow is to make a straightforward
+explanation of your connection with the academy in question? We are not
+here to judge the--ah--ethics of your course; only to decide as to
+whether or no you are eligible to represent the college in athletics."
+
+Cowan arose from his seat and with trembling fingers buttoned his
+overcoat. His brow was black, but when he spoke, facing the head coach
+and heedless of the rest, he appeared quite cool.
+
+"Ever since practise began," he said, "you have been down on me and have
+done everything you could to get rid of me. No matter what I did, it
+wasn't right. Whether I'm eligible or ineligible, I'm done with you now.
+You may fill my place--if you can; I'm out of it. You'll probably be
+beaten; but that's your affair. If you are, I sha'n't weep over it."
+
+He walked to the door and opened it.
+
+"It's understood, I guess, that I've resigned from the team?" he asked,
+facing Mills once more.
+
+"Quite," said the latter dryly.
+
+"All right. And now I don't mind telling you that I did get paid for
+playing with that team. I played three games and took money every time.
+It isn't a crime and I'm not ashamed of it, although to hear you talk
+you'd think I'd committed murder. Good-night, gentlemen."
+
+He passed out. Professor Nast blinked nervously.
+
+"Dear me," he murmured, "dear me, how unpleasant!"
+
+Mills smiled grimly, and, rising, stretched his limbs.
+
+"I think what we have left to do won't take very long. I hardly think
+that it is necessary for me to reply to the accusations brought by the
+gentleman who has just left us."
+
+"No, let's hear no more of it," said Preston. "I propose that we reply
+to Robinson to-night and have an end of the business. To-morrow we'll
+have plenty to think of without this," he added grimly.
+
+The reply was written and forwarded the next day to Robinson, and the
+following announcement was given out at Erskine:
+
+ The Athletic Committee has decided that Cowan is not eligible
+ to represent the college in the football game with Robinson,
+ and he has been withdrawn. A protest was received from the
+ Robinson athletic authorities yesterday afternoon, and an
+ investigation was at once made with the result stated. The
+ loss of Cowan will greatly weaken the team, it is feared, but
+ that fact has not been allowed to influence the committee.
+ The decision is heartily concurred in by the coaches, the
+ captain, and all officials, and, being in line with Erskine's
+ policy of purity in athletics, should have the instant
+ indorsement of the student body.
+
+ H.W. NAST, _Chairman_.
+
+The announcement, as was natural, brought consternation, and for several
+days the football situation was steeped in gloom. Witter and Hurst were
+seized upon by the coaches and drilled in the tactics of right-guard. As
+Foster had said, Witter, while he was a good player, was light for the
+position. Hurst, against whom no objection could be brought on the
+ground of weight, lacked experience. In the end Witter proved first
+choice, and Hurst was comforted with the knowledge that he was
+practically certain to get into the game before the whistle sounded for
+the last time.
+
+Meanwhile Artmouth came and saw and conquered to the tune of 6-0,
+profiting by the news of Cowan's withdrawal and piling their backs
+through Witter, Hurst, and Brown, all of whom took turns at right-guard.
+The game was not encouraging from the Erskine point of view, and the
+gloom deepened. Foster declared that it was so thick during the last
+half of the contest that he couldn't see the backs. Neil saw the game
+from the bench, and Paul, once more at left-half, played an excellent
+game; but, try as he might, could not outdo Gillam. When it was over
+Neil declared the honors even, but Paul took a less optimistic view and
+would not be comforted.
+
+All the evening, save for a short period when he went upstairs to
+sympathize with Cowan, he bewailed his fate into Neil's ears. The latter
+tried his best to comfort him, and predicted that on Monday Paul would
+find himself in Gillam's place. But he scarcely believed it himself, and
+so his prophecies were not convincing.
+
+"What's the good of being decent?" asked Paul dolefully. "I wish I'd
+gone to Robinson."
+
+"No, you don't," said Neil. "You'd rather sit on the side-line at
+Erskine than play with a lot of hired sluggers."
+
+"Much you know about it," Paul growled. "If I don't get into the
+Robinson game I'll--I'll leave college."
+
+"But what good would that do?" asked Neil.
+
+"I'd go somewhere where I'd stand a show. I'd go to Robinson or one of
+the smaller places."
+
+"I don't think you'd do anything as idiotic as that," answered Neil.
+"It'll be hard luck if you miss the big game, but you've got three more
+years yet. What's one? You're certain to stand the best kind of a show
+next year."
+
+"I don't see how. Gillam doesn't graduate until 1903."
+
+"But you can beat him out for the place next year. All you need is more
+experience. Gillam's been at it two years here. Besides, it would be
+silly to leave a good college just because you couldn't play on the
+football team. Don't be like Cowan and think football's the only thing a
+chap comes here for."
+
+"They've used him pretty shabbily," said Paul.
+
+"That's what Cowan thinks. I don't see how they could do anything else."
+
+"He's awfully cut up. I'm downright sorry for him. He says he's going to
+pack up and leave."
+
+"And he's been trying to make you do the same, eh?" asked Neil. "Well,
+you tell him I'm very well satisfied with Erskine and haven't the least
+desire to change."
+
+"You?" asked Paul.
+
+"Certainly. We hang together, don't we?"
+
+Paul grinned.
+
+"You're a good chap, chum," he said gratefully. "But--" relapsing again
+into gloom--"you're not losing your place on the team, and you don't
+know how it feels. When a fellow's set his heart on it--"
+
+"I think I do know," answered Neil. "I know how I felt when my shoulder
+went wrong and I thought I was off for good and all. I didn't like it.
+But cheer up, Paul, and give 'em fits Monday. Slam 'round, let yourself
+loose; show 'em what you can do. Down with Gillam!"
+
+"Oh, I dare say," muttered Paul dejectedly.
+
+Neil laid awake a long time that night; he was full of sympathy for his
+room-mate. With him friendship meant more than it does to the average
+boy of nineteen, and he was ready and eager to do anything in his power
+that would insure Paul's getting into the Robinson game. The trouble was
+that he could think of nothing, although he lay staring into the
+darkness, thinking and thinking, until Paul had been snoring comfortably
+across the room for more than an hour.
+
+The next afternoon, Sunday, Neil, obeying the trainer's instructions,
+went for a walk. Paul begged off from accompanying him, and Neil sought
+Sydney. That youth was delighted to go, and so, Neil alternately pushing
+the tricycle and walking beside it while Sydney propelled it himself,
+the two followed the river for several miles into the country. The
+afternoon was cold but bright, and being outdoors was a pleasure to any
+healthy person. Neil forgot some of his worries and remembered that,
+after all, he was still a boy; that football is not the chief thing in
+college life, and that ten years hence it would matter little to him
+whether he played for his university against her rival or looked on from
+the bench. And it was that thought that suggested to him a means of
+sparing Paul the bitter disappointment that he dreaded.
+
+The plan seemed both simple and feasible, and he wondered why he had not
+thought of it before. To be sure, it involved the sacrificing of an
+ambition of his own; but to-day, out here among the pines and beeches,
+with the clear blue sky overhead and the eager breeze bringing the color
+to his cheeks, the sacrifice seemed paltry and scarcely a sacrifice at
+all. He smiled to himself, glad to have found the solution of Paul's
+trouble, which was also his own; but suddenly it occurred to him that
+perhaps he had no right to do what he contemplated. The ethics were
+puzzling, and presently he turned to Sydney, who had been silently and
+contentedly wheeling himself along across the road, and sought
+his counsel.
+
+"Look here, Syd, you're a level-headed sort of chump. Give me your
+valuable opinion on this, will you? Now--it's a supposititious case, you
+know--here are two fellows, A and B, each trying for the
+same--er--prize. Now, supposing A has just about reached it and B has
+fallen behind; and supposing I--"
+
+"Eh?" asked Sydney.
+
+"Yes, I meant A. Supposing A knows that B is just as deserving of the
+prize as he is, and that--that he'll make equally as good use of it. Do
+you follow, Syd?"
+
+"Y--yes, I think so," answered the other doubtfully.
+
+"Well, now, the question I want your opinion on is this: Wouldn't it be
+perfectly fair for A to--well, slip a cog or two, you know--"
+
+"Slip a cog?" queried Sydney, puzzled.
+
+"Yes; that is," explained Neil, "play off a bit, but not enough for any
+of the fellows to suspect, and so let B get the plum?"
+
+"Well," answered Sydney, after a moment's consideration, "it sounds fair
+enough--"
+
+"That's what I think," said Neil eagerly.
+
+"But maybe A and B are not the only ones interested. How about the
+conditions of the contest? Don't they require that each man shall do his
+best? Isn't it intended that the prize shall go to the one who really
+is the best?"
+
+"Oh, well, in a manner, maybe," answered Neil. He was silent a moment.
+The ethics was more puzzling than ever. Then: "Of course, it's only a
+supposititious case, you understand, Syd," he assured him earnestly.
+
+"Oh, of course," answered the other readily. "Hadn't we better turn
+here?"
+
+The journey back was rather silent. Neil was struggling with his
+problem, and Sydney, too, seemed to have something on his mind. When the
+town came once more into view around a bend in the road Sydney
+interrupted Neil's thoughts.
+
+"Say, Neil, I've got a--a confession to make." His cheeks were very red
+and he looked extremely embarrassed. Neil viewed him in surprise.
+
+"A confession? You haven't murdered the Dean, have you?"
+
+"No. It--it's something rather different. I don't believe that it will
+make any difference in our--our friendship, but--it might."
+
+"It won't," said Neil. "Now, fire ahead."
+
+"Well, you recollect the day you found me on the way from the field and
+pushed me back to college?"
+
+"Of course. Your old ice-wagon had broken down and I--"
+
+"That's it," interrupted Sydney, with a little embarrassed laugh. "It
+hadn't."
+
+"What hadn't? Hadn't what?"
+
+"The machine; it hadn't broken down."
+
+"But I saw it," exclaimed Neil. "What do you mean, Syd?"
+
+"I mean that it hadn't really broken down, Neil. I--the truth is I had
+pried one of the links up with a screw-driver."
+
+Neil stared in a puzzled way.
+
+"But--what for?" he asked.
+
+"Don't you understand?" asked Sydney, shame-faced. "Because I wanted to
+know you, and I thought if you found me there with my machine busted
+you'd try to fix it; and I'd make your acquaintance. It--it was awfully
+dishonest, I know," muttered Sydney at the last.
+
+Neil stared for a moment in surprise. Then he clapped the other on the
+shoulder and laughed uproariously.
+
+"Oh, to think of guileless little Syd being so foxy!" he cried. "I
+wouldn't have believed it if any one else had told me, Syd."
+
+"Well," said Sydney, very red in the face, but joining in the laughter,
+"you don't mind?"
+
+"Mind?" echoed Neil, becoming serious again, "why of course I don't.
+What is there to mind, Syd? I'm glad you did it, awfully glad." He laid
+his arm over the shoulders of the lad on the seat. "Here, let me push a
+while. Queer you should have cared that much about knowing me; but--but
+I'm glad." Suddenly his laughter returned.
+
+"No wonder that old fossil in the village thought it was a queer sort of
+a break," he shouted. "He knew what he was talking about after all when
+he suggested cold-chisels, didn't he?"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+NEIL IS TAKEN OUT
+
+The Tuesday before the final contest dawned raw and wet. The elms in the
+yard _drip-dripped_ from every leafless twig and a fine mist covered
+everything with tiny beads of moisture. The road to the field, trampled
+by many feet, was soft and slippery. Sydney, almost hidden beneath
+rain-coat and oil-skin hat, found traveling hard work. Ahead of him
+marched five hundred students, marshaled by classes, a little army of
+bobbing heads and flapping mackintoshes, alternately cheering and
+singing. Dana, the senior-class president, strode at the head of the
+line and issued his commands through a big purple megaphone.
+
+Erskine was marching out to the field to cheer the eleven and to
+practise the songs that were to be chanted defiantly at the game. Sydney
+had started with his class, but had soon been left behind, the rubber
+tires of the machine slipping badly in the mud. Presently the head of
+the procession, but dimly visible to him through the mist, turned in at
+the gate, the monster flag of royal purple, with its big white E,
+drooping wet and forlorn on its staff. They were cheering again now, and
+Sydney whispered an accompaniment behind the collar of his coat:
+
+"Erskine! Erskine! Erskine! Rah-rah-rah, rah-rah-rah, rah-rah-rah!
+Erskine! Erskine! Erskine!"
+
+Suddenly footsteps sounded behind him and the tricycle went forward
+apparently of its own volition. Sydney turned quickly and saw Mills's
+blue eyes twinkling down at him.
+
+"Did I surprise you?" laughed the coach.
+
+"Yes, I thought my wheel had suddenly turned into an automobile."
+
+"Hard work for you, I'm afraid. You should have let me send a trap for
+you," said Mills. "Never mind those handles. Put your hands in your
+pockets and I'll get you there in no time. What a beast of a day,
+isn't it?"
+
+"Y--yes," answered Sydney, "I suppose it is. But I rather like it."
+
+"Like it? Great Scott! Why?"
+
+"Well, the mist feels good on your face, don't you think so? And the
+trees down there along the railroad look so gray and soft. I don't know,
+but there's something about this sort of a day that makes me feel good."
+
+"Well, every one to his taste," Mills replied. "By the way, here's
+something I cut out of the Robinson Argus; thought you'd like to see
+it." He drew a clipping from a pocketbook and gave it to Sydney, who,
+shielding it from the wet, read as follows:
+
+ Erskine, we hear, is crowing over a wonderful new play which
+ she thinks she has invented, and with which she expects to
+ get even for what happened last year. We have not seen the
+ new marvel, of course, but we understand that it is called a
+ "close formation." It is safe to say that it is an old play
+ revamped by Erskine's head coach, Mills. Last year Mills
+ discovered a form of guards-back which was heralded to the
+ four corners of the earth as the greatest play ever seen.
+ What happened to it is still within memory. Consequently we
+ are not greatly alarmed over the latest production of his
+ fertile brain. Robinson can, we think, find a means of
+ solving any puzzle that Erskine can put together.
+
+"They're rather hard on you," laughed Sydney as he returned the
+clipping.
+
+"I can stand it. I'm glad they haven't discovered that we are busy with
+a defense for their tackle-tandem. If we can keep that a secret for a
+few days longer I shall be satisfied."
+
+"I do hope it will come up to expectations," said Sydney doubtfully.
+"Now that the final test is drawing near I'm beginning to fear that
+maybe we--maybe we're too hopeful."
+
+"I know," answered Mills. "It's always that way. When I first began
+coaching I used to get into a regular blue funk every year just before
+the big game; used to think that everything was going wrong, and was
+firmly convinced until the whistle sounded that we were going to be torn
+to pieces and scattered to the winds. It's just nerves; you get used to
+it after a while. As for the new defense for tackle-tandem, it's all
+right. Maybe it won't stop Robinson altogether, but it's the best thing
+that a light team can put up against a heavy one playing Robinson's
+game; and I think that it's going to surprise her and worry her quite a
+lot. Whether it will keep her from scoring on the tackle play remains to
+be seen. That's a good deal to hope for. If we'd been able to try the
+play in a game with another college we would know more about what we can
+do with it. As it is, we only know that it will stop the second and that
+theoretically it is all right. We'll be wiser on the 23d.
+
+"Frankly, though, Burr," he continued, "as a play I don't like it. That
+is, I consider it too hard on the men; there's too much brute force and
+not enough science and skill about it; in fact, it isn't football. But
+as long as guards-back and tackle-back formations are allowed it's got
+to be played. It was a mistake in ever allowing more than four men
+behind the line. The natural formation of a football team consists of
+seven players in the line, and when you begin to take one or two of
+those players back you're increasing the element of physical force and
+lessening the element of science. More than that, you're playing into
+the hands of the anti-football people, and giving them further grounds
+for their charge of brutality.
+
+"Football's the noblest game that's played, but it's got to be played
+right. We did away with the old mass-play evil and then promptly
+invented the guards-back and the tackle-back. Before long we'll see our
+mistake and do away with those too; revise the rules so that the
+rush-line players can not be drawn back. Then we'll have football as it
+was meant to be played; and we'll have a more skilful game and one of
+more interest both to the players and spectators." Mills paused and
+then asked:
+
+"By the way, do you see much of Fletcher?"
+
+"Yes, quite a bit," answered Sydney. "We were together for two or three
+hours yesterday afternoon."
+
+"Indeed? And did you notice whether he appeared in good spirits? See any
+signs of worry?"
+
+"No, not that I recall. I thought he appeared to be feeling very
+cheerful. I know we laughed a good deal over--over something."
+
+"That's all right, then," answered the coach as they turned in through
+the gate and approached the locker-house. "I had begun to think that
+perhaps he had something on his mind that troubled him. He seemed a bit
+listless yesterday at practise. How about his studies? All right
+there, is he?"
+
+"Oh, yes. Fletcher gets on finely. He was saying only a day or two ago
+that he was surprised to find them going so easily."
+
+"Well, don't mention our talk to him, please; he might start to
+worrying, and that's what we don't want, you know. Perhaps he'll be in
+better shape to-day. We'll try him in the 'antidote.'"
+
+But contrary to the hopes of the head coach, Neil showed no improvement.
+His playing was slow, and he seemed to go at things in a half-hearted
+way far removed from his usual dash and vim. Even the signals appeared
+to puzzle him at times, and more than once Foster turned upon him
+in surprise.
+
+"Say, what the dickens is the matter with you, Neil?" he whispered once.
+Neil showed surprise.
+
+"Why, nothing; I'm all right."
+
+"Well, I'm glad you told me," grumbled the quarter-back, "for I'd never
+have guessed it, my boy."
+
+Before the end of the ten minutes of open practise was over Neil had
+managed to make so many blunders that even the fellows on the seats
+noticed and remarked upon it. Later, when the singing and cheering were
+over and the gates were closed behind the last marching freshman, Neil
+found himself in hot water. The coaches descended upon him in a small
+army, and he stood bewildered while they accused him of every sin in the
+football decalogue. Devoe took a hand, too, and threatened to put him
+off if he didn't wake up.
+
+"Play or get off the field," he said. "And, hang it all, man, look
+intelligent, as though you liked the game!"
+
+Neil strove to look intelligent by banishing the expression of
+bewilderment from his face, and stood patiently by until the last coach
+had hurled the last bolt at his defenseless head--defenseless, that is,
+save for the head harness that was dripping rain-drops down his neck.
+Then he trotted off to the line-up with a queer, half-painful grin
+on his face.
+
+"I guess it's settled for me," he said to, himself, as he rubbed his
+cold, wet hands together. "Evidently I sha'n't have to play off to give
+Paul his place; I've done it already. I suppose I've been bothering my
+head about it until I've forgotten what I've been doing. I wish
+though--" he sighed--"I wish it hadn't been necessary to disgust Mills
+and Bob Devoe and all the others who have been so decent and have hoped
+so much of me. But it's settled now. Whether it's right or wrong, I'm
+going to play like a fool until they get tired of jumping on me and just
+yank me out in sheer disgust.
+
+"Simson's got his eagle eye on me, the old ferret! And he will have me
+on the hospital list to-morrow, I'll bet a dollar. He'll say I've gone
+'fine' and tell me to get plenty of sleep and stay outdoors. And the
+doctor will give me a lot of nasty medicine. Well, it's all in the
+bargain. I'd like to have played in Saturday's game, though; but Paul
+has set his heart on it, and if he doesn't make the team he'll have
+seven fits. It means more to him than it does to me, and next fall will
+soon be here. I can wait."
+
+"_Fletcher! Wake up, will you_?"
+
+Foster was glaring at him angrily. The blood rushed into Neil's face and
+he leaped to his position. Even Ted Foster's patience had given out,
+Neil told himself; and he, like all the rest, would have only contempt
+for him to-morrow. The ball was wet and slimy and easily fumbled. Neil
+lost it the first time it came into his hands.
+
+"Who dropped that ball?" thundered Mills, striding into the back-field,
+pushing players left and right.
+
+"I did," answered Neil, striving to meet the coach's flashing eyes and
+failing miserably.
+
+"You did? Well, do it just once more, Fletcher, and you'll go off! And
+you'll find it hard work getting back again, too. Bear that in mind,
+please." He turned to the others. "Now get together here! Put some life
+into things! Stop that plunging right here! If the second gets another
+yard you'll hear from me!"
+
+"First down; two yards to gain!" called Jones, who was acting as
+referee.
+
+The second came at them again, tackle-back, desperately, fighting hard.
+But the varsity held, and on the next down held again.
+
+"That's better," cried Mills.
+
+"Use your weight, Baker!" shrieked one of the second's coaches, slapping
+the second's left-guard fiercely on the back to lend vehemence to
+the command.
+
+"Center, your man got you that time," cried another. "Into him now!
+Throw him back! Get through!"
+
+Ten coaches were raving and shrieking at once.
+
+"Signal!" cried the second's quarter, Reardon. The babel was hushed,
+save for the voice of Mills crying:
+
+"Steady! Steady! Hold them, varsity!"
+
+"_44--64--73--81!_" came Reardon's muffled voice. Then the second's
+backs plunged forward. Neil and Gillam met them with a crash; cries and
+confusion reigned; the lines shoved and heaved; the backs hurled
+themselves against the swaying group; a smothered voice gasped "Down!"
+the whistle shrilled.
+
+"Varsity's ball!" said the referee. "First down!"
+
+The coaches began their tirades anew. Mills spoke to Foster aside. Then
+the lines again faced each other. Foster glanced back toward Neil.
+
+"_14--12--34--9!_" he sang. It was a kick from close formation. Neil
+changed places with full-back. He had forgotten for the moment the rôle
+he had set himself to play, and only thought of the ball that was flying
+toward him from center. He would do his best. The pigskin settled into
+his hands and he dropped it quickly, kicking it fairly on the rebound.
+But the second was through, and the ball banged against an upstretched
+hand and was lost amidst a struggling group of players. In a moment it
+came to light tightly clutched by Brown of the second eleven.
+
+"I don't have to make believe," groaned Neil. "Fate's playing squarely
+into my hands."
+
+Five minutes later the leather went to him for a run outside of left
+tackle. He never knew whether he tried to do it or really stumbled, but
+he fell before the line was reached, and in a twinkling three of the
+second eleven were pushing his face into the muddy turf. The play had
+lost the varsity four yards. Mills glared at Neil, but said not a word.
+Neil smiled weakly as he went back to his place.
+
+"I needn't try any more," he thought wearily. "He's made up his mind to
+put me off."
+
+A minute later the half ended. When the next one began Paul Gale went in
+at left half-back on the varsity. And Neil, trotting to the
+locker-house, told himself that he was glad, awfully glad, and wished
+the tears wouldn't come into his eyes.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+ON THE EVE OF BATTLE
+
+Neil was duly pronounced "fine" by the trainer, dosed by the doctor, and
+disregarded by the coaches. Mills, having finally concluded that he was
+too risky a person for the line-up on Saturday, figuratively labeled him
+"declined" and passed him over to Tassel, head coach of the second
+eleven. Tassel displayed no enthusiasm, for a good player gone "fine" is
+at best a poor acquisition, and of far less practical value than a poor
+player in good condition. It made little difference to Neil what team he
+belonged to, for he was prohibited from playing on Wednesday, and on
+Thursday the last practise took place and he was in the line-up but five
+minutes. On that day the students again marched to the field and
+practised their songs and cheers. Despite the loss of Cowan and the
+lessening thereby of Erskine's chance of success, enthusiasm reigned
+high. Perhaps their own cheers raised their spirit, for two days before
+the game the college was animated by a totally unwarranted degree of
+hopefulness that amounted almost to confidence. The coaches, however,
+remained carefully pessimistic and took pains to see that the players
+did not share the general hopefulness.
+
+"We may win," said Mills to them after the last practise, "but don't
+think for a moment that it's going to be easy. If we do come out on top
+it will be because every one of you has played as he never dreamed he
+could play. You've got to play your own positions perfectly and then
+help to play each other's. Remember what I've said about team-play.
+Don't think that your work is done when you've put your man out; that's
+the time for you to turn around and help your neighbor. It's just that
+eagerness to aid the next man, that stand-and-fall-together spirit, that
+makes the ideal team. I don't want to see any man on Saturday standing
+around with his hands at his sides; as long as the ball's in play
+there's work for every one. Don't cry 'Down' until you can't run, crawl,
+wriggle, roll, or be pulled another inch. And if you're helping the
+runner don't stop pulling or shoving until there isn't another notch to
+be gained. Never mind how many tacklers there are; the ball's in play
+until the whistle sounds. And, one thing more, remember that you're not
+going to do your best because I tell you to, or because if you don't the
+coaches will give you a wigging, or because a lot of your fellows are
+looking on. You're going to fight your hardest, fight until the last
+whistle blows, fight long after you can't fight any more, because
+you're wearing the Purple of old Erskine and can't do anything else
+but fight!"
+
+The cheer that followed was good to hear. There was not a fellow there
+that didn't feel, at that moment, more than a match for any two men
+Robinson could set up against him. And many a hand clenched
+involuntarily, and many a player registered his silent vow to fight, as
+Mills had said, long after he couldn't fight any more, and, if it
+depended on him, win the game for old Erskine.
+
+On Friday afternoon the men were assembled in the gymnasium and were
+drilled in signals and put through a hard examination in formations.
+Afterward several of the coaches addressed them earnestly, touching each
+man on the spot that hurt, showing them where they failed and how to
+remedy their defects, but never goading them to despondency.
+
+"I should be afraid of a team that was perfect the day before the game,"
+said Preston; "afraid that when the real struggle came they'd disappoint
+me. A team should go into the final contest with the ability to play a
+little better than it has played at any time during the season; with a
+certain amount of power in reserve. And so I expect to-morrow to see
+almost all of the faults that we have talked of eliminated. I expect to
+see every man do that little better that means so much. And if he does
+he'll make Mr. Mills happy, he'll make all the other coaches happy,
+he'll make his captain and himself happy, and he'll make the college
+happy. And he'll make Robinson unhappy!"
+
+Then the line-up that was to start the game was read. Neil, sitting
+listlessly between Paul and Foster, heard it with a little ache at his
+heart. He was glad that Paul was not to be disappointed, but it was hard
+to think that he was to have no part in the supreme battle for which he
+had worked conscientiously all the fall, and the thought of which had
+more than once given him courage to go on when further effort seemed
+impossible.
+
+"Stone, Tucker, Browning, Stowell, Witter, Carey, Devoe, Foster, Gale--"
+
+"Good for you, Paul," whispered Neil. Then he sighed as the list went
+on--
+
+"Gillam, Mason."
+
+Then a long string of substitutes was read. Neil's name was among these,
+but that fact meant little enough.
+
+"Every man whose name has been read report at eleven to-morrow for
+lunch. Early to bed is the rule for every one to-night, and I want every
+one to obey it." Mills paused; then he went on in softer tones: "Some of
+you are disappointed. Some of you have worked faithfully--you all have,
+for that matter--only to meet with disappointment to-day. But we can't
+put you all in the line-up; I wish we could. But to those who have tried
+so hard and so honestly for positions in to-morrow's game, and who have
+of necessity been left out, I can only offer the sympathy of myself and
+the other coaches, and of the other players. You have done your share,
+and it no doubt seems hard that you are to have no better share in the
+final test. But let me tell you that even though you do not play against
+Robinson, you have nevertheless done almost as much toward defeating her
+as though you faced her to-morrow. It's the season's work that
+counts--the long, hard preparation--and in that you've had your place
+and done your part well. And for that I thank you on behalf of myself,
+on behalf of the coaches who have been associated with me, and on behalf
+of the college. And now I am going to ask you fellows of the varsity to
+give three long Erskines, three-times-three, and three long 'scrubs'
+on the end!"
+
+And they were given not once, but thrice. And then the scrub lustily
+cheered the varsity, and they both cheered Mills and Devoe and Simson
+and all the coaches one after another. And when the last long-drawn
+"Erskine" had died away Mills faced them again.
+
+"There's one more cheer I want to hear, fellows, and I think you'll give
+it heartily. In to-morrow's game we are going to use a form of defense
+that will, I believe, enable us to at least render a good account of
+ourselves. And, as most of you know, this defense was thought out and
+developed by a fellow who, although unfortunately unable to play the
+game himself, is nevertheless one of the finest football men in
+college. If we win to-morrow a great big share of the credit will be due
+to that man; if we lose he still will have done as much as any two of
+us. Fellows, I ask for three cheers for Burr!"
+
+Mills led that cheer himself and it was a good one. The pity of it was
+that Sydney wasn't there to hear it.
+
+The November twilight was already stealing down over the campus when
+Neil and Paul left the gymnasium and made their way back to Curtis's.
+Paul was highly elated, for until the line-up had been read he had been
+uncertain of his fate. But his joy was somewhat dampened by the fact
+that Neil had failed to make the team.
+
+"It doesn't seem just right for me to go into the game, chum, with you
+on the side-line," he said. "I don't see what Mills is thinking of! Who
+in thunder's to kick for us?"
+
+"I guess you'll be called on, Paul, if any field-goals are needed."
+
+"I suppose so, but--hang it, Neil, I wish you were going to play!"
+
+"Well, so do I," answered Neil calmly; "but I'm not, and so that settles
+it. After all, they couldn't do anything else, Paul, but let me out.
+I've been playing perfectly rotten lately."
+
+"But--but what's the matter? You don't look stale, chum."
+
+"I feel stale, just the same," answered Neil far from untruthfully.
+
+"But maybe you'll get in for a while; you're down with the subs," said
+Paul hopefully.
+
+"Maybe I will. Maybe you'll get killed and Gillam'll get killed and a
+few more'll get killed and they'll take me on. But don't you worry about
+me; I'm all right."
+
+Paul looked at him as though rather puzzled.
+
+"By Jove, I don't believe you care very much whether you play or don't,"
+he said at last. "If it had been me they'd let out I'd simply gone off
+into a dark corner and died."
+
+"I'm glad it wasn't you," answered Neil heartily.
+
+"Thunder! So'm I!"
+
+The college in general had taken Neil's deflection philosophically after
+the first day or so of wonderment and dismay. The trust in Mills was
+absolute, and if Mills said Fletcher wasn't as good as Gale for left
+half-back, why, he wasn't; that was all there was about it. There was
+one person in college, however, who was not deceived. Sydney Burr,
+recollecting Neil's "supposititious case," never doubted that Neil had
+purposely sacrificed himself for his room-mate. At first he was inclined
+to protest to Neil, even to go the length of making Mills cognizant of
+the real situation; but in the end he kept his own counsel, doubtful of
+his right to interfere. And, in some way, he grew to think that Paul was
+not in the dark; that he knew of Neil's plan and was lending his
+sanction to it; that, in fact, the whole arrangement was a conspiracy in
+which both Neil and Paul shared equally. In this he did Paul injustice,
+as he found out later.
+
+He went to Neil's room that Friday night for a few minutes and found
+Paul much wrought up over the disappearance of Tom Cowan. Cowan's room
+looked as though a cyclone had struck it, Paul declared, and Cowan
+himself was nowhere to be found.
+
+"I'll bet he's done what he said he'd do and left," said Paul. But
+Sydney had seen him but an hour or so before at commons, and Paul set
+out to hunt him up.
+
+"I know you chaps don't like him," he said; "but he's been mighty decent
+to me, and I don't want to seem to be going back on him just now when
+he's so down on his luck. I'll be back in a few minutes."
+
+Sydney found Neil quite cheerful and marveled at it. He himself was
+oppressed by a nervousness that couldn't have been worse had he been due
+to face Robinson's big center the next day. He feared the "antidote"
+wouldn't work right; he feared Robinson had found out all about it and
+had changed their offense; he feared a dozen evils, and Neil was kept
+busy comforting him. At nine o'clock Paul returned without tidings of
+Cowan, and Sydney said good-night.
+
+"I don't believe I'll go out to the field to-morrow," he said half
+seriously. "I'll stay in my room and listen to the cheering. If it
+sounds right toward the end of the game I'll know that things have
+gone our way."
+
+"You won't be able to tell anything of the sort," said Neil, "for the
+fellows are going to cheer just as hard if we lose as they would had we
+won. Mills insists on that, and what he says goes this year."
+
+"That's so," said Paul; "and it's the way it ought to be. If ever a team
+needs cheering and encouragement it's when things are blackest, and not
+when it's winning."
+
+"And so, you see, you'll have to go to the field, Syd," said Neil as he
+followed the other out to the porch. "By Jove, what a night, eh? I never
+saw so many stars, I believe. Well, we'll have a good clear day for the
+game and a good turf underfoot. Good-night, Syd."
+
+"Good-night," answered the other. Then, sorrowfully, "I do wish you were
+going to play, Neil."
+
+"Thanks, Syd; but don't let that keep you awake. Good-night!"
+
+The room-mates chatted in a desultory way for half an hour longer and
+then prepared for bed. Paul was somewhat nervous and excited, and
+displayed a tendency to stop short in the middle of removing a stocking
+to gaze blankly before him for whole minutes at a time. Once he stood
+so long on one leg with his trousers half off that Neil feared he had
+gone to sleep, and so brought him back to a recollection of the business
+in hand by shying a boot at him.
+
+As for Neil, he was untroubled by nervousness. He believed Erskine was
+going to win. For the rest, the eve of battle held no exciting thoughts
+for him. He could neither win the game nor lose it; he was merely a
+spectator, like thousands of others; only he would see the contest from
+the players' bench instead of the big new stand that half encircled
+the field.
+
+But despite the feeling of aloofness that possessed and oppressed him,
+sleep did not come readily. For a long time he heard Paul stirring about
+restlessly across the little bedroom and the occasional cheers of some
+party of patriotic students returning to their rooms across the common.
+His brain refused to stop its labors; and, in fact, kept busily at them
+long after he had fallen asleep. He dreamed continually, a ceaseless
+stream of weird, unpleasant visions causing him to turn and toss all
+through the night and leaving him when dawn came weary and unrefreshed.
+
+Out of doors the early sun was brushing away the white frost. The sky
+was almost devoid of clouds, and the naked branches of the elms reached
+upward unswayed by any breeze. It was an ideal day, that 23d of
+November, bright, clear, and keen. Nature could not have been kinder to
+the warriors who, in a few short hours, were to meet upon the yellowing
+turf, nor to the thousands who were to assemble and cheer them on to
+victory--or defeat.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+COWAN BECOMES INDIGNANT
+
+Breakfast at the training-table that morning was a strange meal, to
+which the fellows loitered in at whatever hour best pleased them. Many
+showed signs of restless slumber, and the trainer was as watchful as an
+old hen with a brood of chickens. For some there were Saturday morning
+recitations; those who were free were sent out to the field at ten
+o'clock and were put through a twenty-minute signal practise. Among
+these were Neil and Paul. A trot four times around the gridiron ended
+the morning's work, and they were dismissed with orders to report at
+twelve o'clock for lunch.
+
+Neil, Paul, and Foster walked back together, and it was the last that
+suggested going down to the depot to see the arrival of the Robinson
+players. So they turned down Poplar Street to Main and made their way
+along in front of the row of stores there. The village already showed
+symptoms of excitement. The windows were dressed in royal purple, with
+here and there a touch of the brown of Robinson, and the sidewalk
+already held many visitors, while others were invading the college
+grounds across the street. Farther on the trio passed the bicycle
+repair-shop. In front of the door, astride an empty box, sat the
+proprietor, sunning himself and keeping a careful watch on the village
+happenings. With a laugh Neil left his companions and ran across
+the street.
+
+"Good-morning," he said. The little man on the box looked up inquiringly
+but failed to recognize his tormentor.
+
+"Mornin'," he grunted suspiciously.
+
+"I wanted to tell you," said Neil gravely, "that your diagnosis was
+correct, after all."
+
+"Hey?" asked the little man querulously.
+
+"Yes, it _was_ a cold-chisel that did it," said Neil. "You remember you
+said it was."
+
+"Cold-chisel? Say, what you talkin'--" Then a light of recognition
+sprang into his weazened features. "You're the feller that owes me a
+quarter!" he cried shrilly, scrambling to his feet.
+
+Neil was off on the instant. As the three went on toward the station the
+little man's denunciations followed them:
+
+"You come back here an' pay me that quarter! If I knew yer name I'd have
+ther law on yer! But I know yer face, an' I'll--"
+
+"His name's Legion," called Ted Foster over his shoulder.
+
+"Hey? What?" shrieked the repair man.
+
+"Legion!"
+
+"I don't know what you say, but I'll report that feller ter th'
+authorities!"
+
+Then a long whistle broke in upon the discussion, and the three rushed
+for the station platform.
+
+From the vantage-point of a baggage-truck they watched the Robinson
+players and the accompanying contingent descend from the train. There
+were twenty-eight of the former, heavily built, strapping-looking
+fellows, and with them a small army of coaches, trainers, and
+supporters. Neil dug his elbow against Paul.
+
+"Look," he said, "there's your friend Brill."
+
+And sure enough, there was the Robinson coach who had visited the two at
+Hillton a year before and tried to get them to go to the rival college.
+
+"If you'd like to make arrangements for next year, Paul," Neil whispered
+mischievously, "now's your time."
+
+But Paul grinned and shook his head.
+
+The players and most of the coaches tumbled into carriages and were
+taken out to Erskine Field for a short practise, and the balance of the
+arrivals started on foot toward the hotel. The three friends retraced
+their steps. Luckily, the proprietor of the bicycle repair-shop was so
+busy looking over the strangers that they passed unseen in the little
+stream. There remained the better part of an hour before lunch-time, and
+they found themselves at a loss for a way to spend the time. Foster
+finally went off to his room, as he explained airily, "to dash off a
+letter on his typewriter," a statement that was greeted with howls of
+derision from the others, who, for want of a better place, went into
+Butler's bookstore and aimlessly looked over the magazines and papers.
+
+It was while thus engaged that Paul heard his name spoken, and turned to
+find Mr. Brill smilingly holding out his hand.
+
+"I thought I wasn't mistaken," the Robinson coach said as they shook
+hands. "And isn't that your friend Fletcher over there?"
+
+Neil heard and came over, and the three stood and talked for a few
+minutes. Mr. Brill seemed well pleased with the football outlook.
+
+"I'll wager you gentlemen will regret not coming to us after to-day's
+game is over," he laughed. "I hear you've got something up your sleeve."
+
+"We have," said Neil.
+
+"So I heard. What's the nature of it?"
+
+"It's muscle," answered Neil gravely.
+
+The coach laughed. "Of course, if it's a secret, I don't want to hear
+it. But I think you're safe to get beaten, secret or no secret, eh?"
+
+"Nonsense!" said Paul. "You won't know what struck you when we get
+through with you."
+
+Mr. Brill laughed good-naturedly but didn't look alarmed.
+
+"By the way," he said, "I saw one of your players a while
+ago--Cowan--the fellow we protested. He seemed rather sore."
+
+"Where was he?" asked Paul eagerly.
+
+"In a drug-store down there toward the next corner. Have your coaches
+found a good man for his place?"
+
+"Oh, yes, it wasn't hard to fill," answered Neil. "Witter's got it."
+
+"Witter? I don't think I've heard of him."
+
+"No, he's not famous--yet; you'll know him better later on."
+
+Paul was plainly anxious to go in search of Cowan, and so they bade the
+Robinson coach good-by. Out on the sidewalk Neil turned a troubled face
+toward his friend.
+
+"Say, Paul, Cowan knows all about the 'antidote,' doesn't he?"
+
+"Why, yes, I suppose so; he's seen it played."
+
+"And he knows the signals, too, eh?"
+
+"Of course. Why?"
+
+"Well, I've been wondering whether--You heard what Brill said--that
+Cowan was feeling sore? Well, do you suppose he'd be mean enough
+to--to--"
+
+"By thunder!" muttered Paul. Then: "No, I don't believe that Cowan would
+do a thing like that. I don't think he's a--a traitor!"
+
+"Well, you know him better than I do," said Neil, "and I dare say you're
+right. Only--only I wish we could be certain."
+
+"I'll find him," answered Paul determinedly. "You wait here for me; or,
+no, I may have to hunt; I'll see you at lunch. I'll find out all right."
+
+He was off on the instant. As he had told Neil, he didn't believe that
+Cowan would reveal secrets to Brill or any other of the Robinson people;
+but--well, he realized that Cowan was feeling very much aggrieved, and
+that he might in his present state of mind do what in a saner moment he
+would not consider. At the drug-store he was told that Cowan had left a
+few minutes before. The only place that Paul could think of where Cowan
+was likely to be was his room, so thither he went. He found the deposed
+guard engaged in replacing certain of his pictures and ornaments which
+had been taken down.
+
+"Hello!" he said. "Thought you'd cut my acquaintance too."
+
+"Nonsense," answered Paul, "I've been trying to find you ever since last
+night. Where've you been?"
+
+"Oh, just knocking around. I got back late last night."
+
+"I was afraid you had left college. You know you said you might."
+
+"I know. Well, I've changed my mind. I guess I'll stay on until recess
+anyway; maybe until summer. What's the use going anywhere else? If I
+went to Robinson I couldn't play; Erskine would protest me. I wish to
+goodness I'd had sense enough to let that academy team go hang! Only I
+needed some money, and it seemed a good way to make it. After all, there
+wasn't anything dishonest about it!"
+
+"N--no," said Paul.
+
+"Well, was there?" Cowan demanded, turning upon him fiercely. Paul shook
+his head.
+
+"No, there wasn't. Only, of course, you'd ought to have remembered that
+it disqualified you here." Cowan looked surprised.
+
+"My, but you're getting squeamish!" he said. "The first thing you know
+you'll be as bad as Fletcher." There was a moment's silence. "What does
+he say about it?" Cowan asked carelessly.
+
+"Who, Neil? Oh, he--he sympathizes with you," answered Paul vaguely.
+"Says it's awfully hard lines, but doesn't think the committee could do
+anything else."
+
+"Humph!"
+
+"By the way," said Paul, recollecting his errand, "I met Brill of
+Robinson a while ago. He said he'd seen you."
+
+"Yes," grunted Cowan. "I'd like to punch him. Made believe he was all
+cut up over my being put off. Why--why it was he that knew about that
+academy business! Last September he tried to get me to go to Robinson;
+offered me anything I wanted, and I refused. After all a--a fellow's got
+some loyalty! He asked all sorts of questions as to whether I was
+eligible or not, and I--I don't know what made me, but I told him about
+taking that money for playing tackle on that old academy team. He said
+that wouldn't matter any. But after I decided not to go to Robinson he
+changed his tune; said he wasn't sure but that I was ineligible!"
+
+"He's a cad," said Paul."
+
+"And then to-day he tried to get sympathetic, but I shut him up mighty
+quick. I told him I knew well enough he was the one who had started the
+protest, and offered to punch his nose if he'd come over back of the
+stores; but he wouldn't," added Cowan aggrievedly.
+
+"You--you didn't let out anything to him that would--er--help them in
+the game, did you?" asked Paul, studying the floor with great attention.
+
+"Let out anything?" asked Cowan in puzzled tones. "What do you--" He put
+down the picture he held and faced Paul, the blood dying his face. "Look
+here, Paul, what do you mean by that?"
+
+"Why, why--"
+
+"You want to know if I turned traitor? If I gave away our signals or
+something like that, eh?" There was honest indignation in his voice and
+a trace of pain, and Paul regretted his suspicions on the instant.
+
+"Oh, come now, old man," he began, "what I meant--"
+
+"Now let me tell you something, Gale," said Cowan. "I may not be so nice
+as you and Fletcher and Devoe and a lot more of your sort, but I'm not
+an out-and-out rascal and traitor! And I didn't think you'd put that on
+me, by Jove! I've no love for some of the fellows in this college, nor
+for Mills, and I wouldn't care if we got beaten--" He paused. "Yes, I
+would, too; I want Robinson to get done up so hard that they'll throw
+that cheat Brill out of there. But I want you to understand right here
+and now that I'm not cad enough to sell signals."
+
+"I beg your pardon, Tom," said Paul earnestly. "I didn't think it of
+you. Only, when Brill said he'd seen you and that you were feeling
+sore, we--I--"
+
+"Oh, so it was Fletcher that suspected it, was it?" demanded Cowan.
+
+"No more than I," answered Paul stoutly. "We neither of us really
+thought you'd turn traitor, but I was afraid that, feeling the way you
+naturally would, you might thoughtlessly say something that Brill could
+make use of. That's all"
+
+Cowan looked doubtful for a moment, then he sniffed.
+
+"Well, all right," he said finally. "Forget it."
+
+"You're going out to the game, aren't you?" Paul asked.
+
+"Yes, I guess so. What's Fletcher think of being laid off?"
+
+"Well, he doesn't seem to mind it as I thought he would. I--I don't know
+quite what to make of him. It almost seems that he's--well, glad of it!"
+
+"Huh! You've got another guess, my friend."
+
+"How's that? What do you mean?"
+
+"Nothing much; only I guess I've got better eyes than you," responded
+Cowan with a grin. After a pause during which he rearranged the objects
+on the mantel-shelf to his satisfaction, he turned to Paul again:
+
+"Say, do you think Fletcher and I could get on together if--well, if we
+knew each other better?"
+
+"I'm sure you could," answered Paul eagerly.
+
+"Well, I think I'd like to try it. He--he's not a bad sort of a chap.
+Only maybe he wouldn't care to--er--"
+
+"Oh, yes, he would," answered Paul. "You'll see, Tom."
+
+"Well, maybe so. Going? Good luck to you. I'll see you on the field."
+
+Paul hurried around the long curve of Elm Street toward Pearson's
+boarding-house, where the players were already gathering for luncheon.
+He found Neil on the steps and dragged him off and down to the gate.
+
+"It's all right," he said. "I found him and asked him, and I wish I
+hadn't. He was awfully cut up about it; seemed hurt to think I could
+suspect such a thing. Though, really, I didn't quite suspect, you know."
+
+"I'm sorry we hurt his feelings," said Neil. "It was a bit mean of me to
+suggest it."
+
+"He's going to stay for a while," went on Paul. "And--and--Look here,
+chum, don't you think that if--er--you tried you could get to like him
+better? From something he said to-day I found out that he thinks you're
+a good sort and he'd like to get on with you. Maybe if we kind of looked
+after him we could--oh, I don't know! But you see what I mean?"
+
+"Yes, I see what you mean," replied Neil thoughtfully. "And maybe we'd
+get on better if we tried again. Anyhow, Paul, you ask him down to the
+room some night and--and we'll see."
+
+"Thanks," said Paul gratefully. "And now let's get busy with the funeral
+baked beans--I mean meats. Gee, I've got about as much appetite as a
+fly! I--I wish the game was over with!"
+
+"So do I," answered Neil, as with a sigh he listlessly followed his chum
+into the house.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+THE "ANTIDOTE" IS ADMINISTERED
+
+[Illustration]
+
+High up against a fair blue sky studded with fleecy clouds streamed a
+banner of royal purple bearing in its center a great white E--a flare of
+intense color visible from afar over the topmost branches of the empty
+elms, and a beacon toward which the stream of spectators set their
+steps. In the tower of College Hall the old bell struck two o'clock, and
+the throngs at the gates of Erskine Field moved faster, swaying and
+pushing past the ticket-takers and streaming out onto the field toward
+the big stands already piled high with laughing, chattering humanity.
+Under the great flag stretched a long bank of somber grays and black
+splashed thickly with purple, looking from a little distance as though
+the big banner had dripped its dye on to the multitude beneath.
+Opposite, the rival tiers of crowded seats were pricked out lavishly
+with the rich but less brilliant brown, while at the end of the
+enclosure, where the throngs entered, a smaller stand flaunted the two
+colors in almost equal proportions.
+
+And between stretched a smooth expanse of russet-hued turf ribbed with
+white lines that glared in the afternoon sunlight.
+
+The college band, augmented for the occasion from the ranks of the
+village musicians, played blithely; some twelve thousand persons talked,
+laughed, or shouted ceaselessly; and the cheering sections were loudly
+contending for vocal supremacy. And suddenly on to this scene trotted a
+little band of men in black sweaters with purple 'E's, nice new canvas
+trousers, and purple and black stockings; and just as suddenly the north
+stand arose and the Robinson cheers were blotted out by a mighty chorus
+that swept from end to end of the structure and thundered impressively
+across the field:
+
+"_Erskine! Erskine! Erskine! Rah-rah-rah, rah-rah-rah, rah-rah-rah!
+Erskine! Erskine! Erskine!_"
+
+It was repeated over and over, and might, perhaps, have been sounding
+yet had not the Robinson players, sturdy, brown-clad youths, ambled onto
+the field. Then it was Robinson's turn to make a noise, and she made it;
+there's no doubt about that.
+
+"_Rah-rah-rah! Robinson! Rah-rah-rah! Robinson! Rah-rah-rah! Robinson!
+Robinson! Robinson!_"
+
+The substitutes of both teams retired to the benches and the players who
+were to start the game warmed up. Over near the east goal three Erskine
+warriors were trying--alas, not very successfully!--to kick the ball
+over the cross-bar; they were Devoe and Paul and Mason. Nearer at hand
+Ted Foster was personally conducting a little squad around the field by
+short stages, and his voice, shrilly cheerful, thrilled doubting
+supporters of the Purple hopefully. Robinson's players were going
+through much the same antics at the other end of the gridiron, and there
+was a business-like air about them that caused many an Erskine watcher
+to scent defeat for his college.
+
+The cheers had given place to songs, and the leader of the band faced
+the occupants of the north stand and swung his baton vigorously.
+Presumably the band was playing, but unless you had been in its
+immediate vicinity you would never have known it. Many of the popular
+airs of the day had been refitted with new words for the occasion. As
+poetic compositions they were not remarkable, but sung with enthusiasm
+by several hundred sturdy voices they answered the purpose. Robinson
+replied in kind, but in lesser volume, and the preliminary battle, the
+war of voices, went on until three persons, a youth in purple, a youth
+in brown, and a man in everyday attire, met in the middle of the field
+and watched a coin spin upward in the sunlight and fall to the ground.
+Then speedily the contesting forces took their position, the lines-men
+and timekeeper hurried forward, and the great stands were
+almost stilled.
+
+Erskine had the ball and the west goal. Stowell poised the pigskin to
+his liking and drew back. Devoe shouted a last word of caution. The
+referee, a well-known football player and coach, raised his whistle.
+
+"Are you ready, Erskine? All ready, Robinson?"
+
+Then the whistle shrilled, the timekeeper's watch clicked, the ball sped
+away, and the game had begun.
+
+The brown-clad skirmishers leaped forward to oppose the invaders, while
+the pigskin, slowly revolving, arched in long flight toward the west
+goal. It struck near the ten-yard line and the wily Robinson left half
+let it go; but instead of rolling over the goal-line it bumped
+erratically against the left post and bobbed back to near the first
+white line. The left half was on it then like a flash, but the Erskine
+forwards were almost upon him and his run was only six yards long, and
+it was Robinson's ball on her ten-yard line. The north stand was
+applauding vociferously this stroke of fortune. If Erskine could get
+possession of the ball now she might be able to score; but her coaches,
+watching intently from the side-line, knew that only the veriest fluke
+could give the pigskin to the Purple. And meanwhile, with hearts beating
+a little faster than usual, they awaited the first practical test of the
+"antidote."
+
+Robinson lined up quickly. Left tackle dropped from the line, and taking
+a position between full-back and right half, formed the center of the
+tandem that faced the tackle-guard hole on the right. Left half stood
+well back, behind quarter, ready to oppose any Erskine players who
+managed to get around the left of their line. The full-back who headed
+the tandem was a notable line-bucker, although his weight was but 172
+pounds. The left tackle, Balcom, tipped the scales at 187, while the
+third member of the trio was twenty pounds lighter. Together they
+represented 525 pounds.
+
+Opposed to them were Gillam and Mason, whose combined weight was 312
+pounds. Gillam stood between left-guard and tackle, with Mason, his
+hands on the other's shoulders, close behind.
+
+The Robinson quarter stared for an instant with interest at the opposing
+formation, and the full-back, crouched forward ready to plunge across
+the little space that divided him from the opponents' territory, looked
+uneasy. Then the quarter stooped behind the big center.
+
+"_Signal!_" he called. "_12--21--212!_"
+
+The ball came back to him. At the same instant the tandem moved forward,
+the Erskine guard and tackle engaged the opposing guard and tackle, and
+Gillam and Mason shot through the hole, the former with head down and a
+padded shoulder presented to the enemy, and the latter steadying him and
+hurling him forward. Then two things happened at the same moment; the
+ball passed from quarter to tackle, and Gillam and the leader of the
+tandem came together.
+
+The shock of that collision was plainly heard on the side-lines. For an
+instant the tandem stopped short. Then superior weight told, and it
+moved forward again, reenforced by quarter and right end; but
+simultaneously the Erskine quarter and left half made themselves felt
+back of Mason and Gillam, and then chaos reigned. The entire forces of
+each side were in the play, and for nearly half a minute the swaying
+mass moved inch by inch, first forward, then backward, the Robinson left
+tackle refusing to believe that their famous play was for once a failure
+and so clinging desperately to the ball, the center of a veritable
+maelstrom of panting, struggling players. Then the whistle sounded and
+the dust of battle cleared away. Robinson had gained half a yard.
+
+The north stand cheered delightedly. It had only seen the Robinson
+tandem stopped in its tracks, and did not know that in the struggle just
+passed Erskine had used a new and novel defense for the first time on
+any football field, had vindicated her coaches' faith in it, and brought
+surprise and dismay to the brown-clad warriors and their adherents. If
+it had known as much as Mills and Jones and Sydney about the "antidote"
+it would have shouted itself hoarse.
+
+Gillam trotted back to his place. His extra-padded head-harness and
+heavy shoulder-pads had brought him forth unscathed. On the side-line
+the Erskine coaches talked softly to each other, trying hard to look
+unconcerned, but nevertheless showing their pleasure. Sydney Burr,
+rather pale, was among them, and was, perhaps, the happiest of all. The
+bench whereon the substitutes sat was one long grin from end to end. But
+Robinson was far from being beaten, and the game went on.
+
+Again the tandem was hurled at the same point, and again Gillam met the
+shock of it. This time the defense worked better, and Robinson lost the
+half-yard of gain and another half-yard on top of that.
+
+"Six yards to gain," said the score-board. And the purple-decked stand
+voiced its triumph.
+
+Robinson wisely decided to yield possession of the ball and get away
+from such a dangerous locality. On the next play she punted and Paul was
+brought to earth on Robinson's fifty yards. Now was the time for Erskine
+to test her offensive powers. On the first play, using the
+close-formation, Gillam slashed a hole between the opposing center and
+right-guard and Mason went through for two yards. The next play netted
+them another yard in the same place. Then Paul was given the pigskin for
+a try outside of right tackle and reeled off four yards more before he
+was downed. It was quick starting and fast running, and for the moment
+Robinson was taken off her feet; but the next try ended dismally, for in
+an attempt to get through the left of the line between guard and tackle
+Mason was caught and thrown back for a two-yard loss. Another try
+outside of tackle on that side of the line netted but a bare three feet,
+and Foster dropped back for a kick. His effort was not very successful,
+and the ball was Robinson's on her twenty-seven yards.
+
+Now she tried the tackle-tandem on the other side of center, hurling
+right tackle, followed by left half with the ball, and full-back at the
+guard-tackle hole. Paul led the defense this time, and again Robinson
+was brought up all standing. Another try at the same point with like
+results, and Robinson changed her tactics. With the tandem formation,
+the ball went to full-back, and with left end and tackle interfering he
+skirted Erskine's right for seven yards and brought the wearers of the
+brown to their feet shouting wildly. Perhaps no one was more surprised
+than Bob Devoe, for it was his end that had been circled. Certainly no
+one was more thoroughly disgusted than he. The Robinson left end had put
+him out of the play as neatly as though he had been the veriest tyro.
+Devoe sized up that youth, set his lips together, and kept his
+eyes open.
+
+Robinson now had the ball near her thirty-five yards and returned to the
+tackle-tandem. In two plays she gained two yards, the result of faster
+playing. Then another try outside of right tackle brought her five
+yards. Tackle-tandem again, one yard; again, two yards; a try outside of
+tackle, one yard; Erskine's ball on Robinson's forty-three yards. The
+pigskin went to Gillam, who got safely away outside Robinson's right end
+and reeled off ten yards before he was caught. Again he was given the
+ball for a plunge through right tackle and barely gained a yard. Mason
+found another yard between left-guard and tackle and Foster kicked. It
+was poorly done, and the leather went into touch at the twenty-five
+yards, and once more Robinson set her feet toward the Erskine goal.
+
+So far the playing had all been done in her territory and her coaches
+were looking anxious. Erskine's defense was totally unlooked for, both
+as regarded style and effectiveness, and the problem that confronted
+them was serious. Their team had been perfected in the tackle-tandem
+play to the neglecting of almost all else. Their backs were heavy and
+consequently slow when compared with their opponents. To be sure, thus
+far runs outside of tackle and end had been successful, but the coaches
+well knew that as soon as Erskine found that such plays were to be
+expected she would promptly spoil them. Kicking was not a strong point
+with Robinson this year; at that game her enemy could undoubtedly beat
+her. Therefore, if the tackle-back play didn't work what was to be done?
+There was only one answer: Make it! There was no time or opportunity now
+to teach new tricks; Robinson must stand or fall by tackle-tandem. And
+while the coaches were arriving at this conclusion, White, their captain
+and quarter-back, had already reached it.
+
+He placed the head of the tandem nearer the line, put the tackle at the
+head of it, and hammered away again. Mills, seeing the move, silently
+applauded. It was the one way to strengthen the tandem play, for by
+starting nearer the line the tandem could possibly reach it before the
+charging opponents got into the play. Momentum was sacrificed and an
+instant of time gained, and, as it proved, that instant of time meant a
+difference of fully a yard on each play. Had the two Erskine warriors
+whose duty it was to hurl themselves against the tandem been of heavier
+weight it is doubtful if the change made would have greatly benefited
+their opponents; but, as it was, the two forces met about on Robinson's
+line, and after the first recoil the Brown was able to gain, sometimes a
+bare eighteen inches, sometimes a yard, once or twice three or four.
+
+And now Robinson took up her march steadily toward the Purple's goal.
+The backs plowed through for short distances; Gillam and Paul bore the
+brunt of the terrific assaults heroically; the Erskine line fell back
+foot by foot, yard by yard; and presently Robinson crossed the
+fifty-five-yard line and emerged into Erskine territory. Here there was
+a momentary pause in her conquering invasion. A fumble by the full-back
+allowed Devoe to get through and fall on the ball.
+
+Erskine now knifed the Brown's line here and there and shot Gillam and
+Paul through for short gains and made her distance. Then, with the
+pigskin back in Robinson territory, Erskine was caught holding and
+Robinson once more took up her advance. Carey at right tackle weakened
+and the Brown piled her backs through him. On Erskine's thirty-two yards
+he gave place to Jewell and the tandem moved its attack to the other
+side of the line. Paul and Gillam, both pretty well punished, still held
+out stubbornly. Yard by yard the remaining distance was covered. On her
+fifteen yards, almost under the shadow of her goal-posts, Erskine was
+given ten yards for off-side play, and the waning hopes of the
+breathless watchers on the north stand revived.
+
+But from the twenty-five-yard line the steady rushes went on again, back
+over the lost ground, and soon, with the half almost gone, Robinson
+placed the ball on Erskine's five yards. Twice the tandem was met
+desperately and hurled back, but on the third down, with her whole
+back-field behind the ball, Robinson literally mowed her way through,
+sweeping Paul and Mason, and Gillam and Foster before her, and threw
+Bond over between the posts with the ball close snuggled beneath him.
+
+The south stand leaped to its feet, blue flags and streamers fluttered
+and waved, and cheers for Robinson rent the air until long after the
+Brown's left half had kicked a goal. Then the two teams faced each other
+again and the Robinson left end got the kick-off and ran it back fifteen
+yards. Again the battering of the tackle-tandem began, and Paul and
+Gillam, nearly spent, were unable to withstand it after the first half
+dozen plays. Mason went into the van of the defense in place of Gillam,
+but the Brown's advance continued; one yard, two yards, three yards were
+left behind.
+
+Mills, watching, glanced almost impatiently at the timekeeper, who, with
+his watch in hand, followed the battle along the side-line. The time was
+almost up, but Robinson was back on Erskine's thirty-five yards. But now
+the timekeeper walked on to the gridiron, his eyes fixed intently on the
+dial, and ere the ball went again into play he had called time. The
+lines broke up and the two teams trotted away.
+
+The score-board proclaimed:
+
+Erskine 0, Opponents 6.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+BETWEEN THE HALVES
+
+Neil trotted along at the tail-end of the procession of substitutes, so
+deep in thought that he passed through the gate without knowing it, and
+only came to himself when he stumbled up the locker-house steps. He
+barked his shins and reached a conclusion at the same instant.
+
+At the door of the dressing-room a strong odor of witch-hazel and
+liniment met him. He squeezed his way past a group of coaches and looked
+about him. Confusion reigned supreme. Rubbers and trainer were hard at
+work. Simson's voice, commanding, threatening, was raised above all
+others, a shrill, imperious note in a rising and falling babel of sound.
+Veterans of the first half and substitutes chaffed each other
+mercilessly. Browning, with an upper lip for all the world like a piece
+of raw beef, mumbled good-natured retorts to the charges brought against
+him by Reardon, the substitute quarter-back.
+
+[Illustration: Erskine vs. Robinson--The First Half.]
+
+"Yes, you really ought to be careful," the latter was saying with
+apparent concern. "If you let those chaps throw you around like that
+you may get bruised or broken. I'll speak to Price and ask him to be
+more easy with you."
+
+"Mmbuble blubble mummum," observed Browning.
+
+"Oh, don't say that," Reardon entreated.
+
+Neil was looking for Paul, and presently he discovered him. He was lying
+on his back while a rubber was pommeling his neck and shoulders
+violently and apparently trying to drown him in witch-hazel. He caught
+sight of Neil and winked one highly discolored eye. Neil examined him
+gravely; Paul grinned.
+
+"There's a square inch just under your left ear, Paul, that doesn't
+appear to have been hit. How does that happen?"
+
+Paul grinned more generously, although the effort evidently pained him.
+
+"It's very careless of them, I must say," Neil went on sternly. "See
+that it is attended to in the next half."
+
+"Don't worry," answered Paul, "it will be." Neil smiled.
+
+"How are you feeling?" he asked.
+
+"Fine," Paul replied. "I'm just getting limbered up."
+
+"You look it," said Neil dryly. "I suppose by the time your silly neck
+is broken you'll be in pretty good shape to play ball, eh?" Simson
+hurried up, closely followed by Mills.
+
+"How's the neck?" he asked.
+
+"It's all right now," answered Paul. "It felt as though it had been
+driven into my body for about a yard."
+
+"Do you think you can start the next half?" asked Mills anxiously.
+
+"Sure; I can play it through; I'm all right now," replied Paul gaily.
+Mills's face cleared.
+
+"Good boy!" he muttered, and turned away. Neil sped after him.
+
+"Mr. Mills," he called. The head coach turned, annoyed by the
+interruption.
+
+"Well, Fletcher; what is it?"
+
+"Can't I get in for a while, sir?" asked Neil earnestly. "I'm feeling
+fine. Gillam can't last the game, nor Paul. I wish you'd let--"
+
+"See Devoe about it," answered Mills shortly. He hurried away, leaving
+Neil with open mouth and reddening cheeks.
+
+"Well, that's what I get for disappointing folks," he told himself.
+"Only he needn't have been _quite_ so short. What's the good of asking
+Devoe? He won't let me on. And--but I'll try, just the same. Paul's had
+his chance and there's no harm now in looking after Neil Fletcher."
+
+He found Devoe with Foster and one of the coaches. The latter was
+lecturing them forcibly in lowered tones, and Neil hesitated to
+interrupt; but while he stood by undecided Devoe glanced up, his face a
+pucker of anxiety. Neil strode forward.
+
+"Say, Bob, get me on this half, can't you? Mills told me to see you," he
+begged. "Give me a chance, Bob!"
+
+Devoe frowned impatiently and shook his head.
+
+"Can't be done, Neil. Mills has no business sending you to me. He's
+looking after the fellows himself. I've got troubles enough of my own."
+
+"But if I tell him you're willing?" asked Neil eagerly.
+
+"I'm not willing," said Devoe. "If he wants you he'll put you on. Don't
+bother me, Neil, for heaven's sake. Talk to Mills."
+
+Neil turned away in disappointment. It was no use. He knew he could play
+the game of his life if only they'd take him on. But they didn't know;
+they only knew that he had been tried and found wanting. There was no
+time now to test doubtful men. Mills and Devoe and Simson were not to be
+blamed; Neil recognized that fact, but it didn't make him happy. He
+found a seat on a bench near the door and dismally looked on. Suddenly a
+conversation near at hand engaged his attention.
+
+Mills, Jones, Sydney Burr, and two other assistant coaches were gathered
+together, and Mills was talking.
+
+"The 'antidote's' all right," he was saying decidedly. "If we had a
+team that equaled theirs in weight we could stop them short; but they're
+ten pounds heavier in the line and seven pounds heavier behind it. What
+can you expect? Without the 'antidote' they'd have had us snowed under
+now; they'd have scored five or six times on us."
+
+"Easy," said Jones. "The 'antidote's' all right, Burr. What we need are
+men to make it go. That's why I say take Gillam out. He's played a star
+game, but he's done up now. Let Pearse take his place, play Gale as long
+as he'll last, and then put in Smith. How about Fletcher?"
+
+"No good," answered Mills. "At least--" He stopped and narrowed his
+eyes, as was his way when thinking hard.
+
+"I think he'd be all right, Mr. Mills," said Sydney. "I--I know him
+pretty well, and I know he's the sort of fellow that will fight hardest
+when the game's going wrong."
+
+"I thought so, too," answered Mills; "but--well, we'll see. Maybe we'll
+give him a try. Time's up now.--O Devoe!"
+
+"Yes, coming!"
+
+"Here's your list. Better get your men out."
+
+There was a hurried donning of clothing, a renewed uproar.
+
+"All ready, fellows," shouted the captain. "Answer to your names:
+Kendall, Tucker, Browning, Stowell, Witter, Jewell, Devoe, Gale, Pearse,
+Mason, Foster."
+
+"There's not much use in talk," said Mills, as the babel partly died
+away. "I've got no fault to find with the work of any of you in the last
+half; but we've got to do better in this half; you can see that for
+yourselves. You were a little bit weak on team-play; see if you can't
+get together. We're going to tie the score; maybe we're going to beat.
+Anyhow, let's work like thunder, fellows, and, if we can't do any more,
+tear that confounded tackle-tandem up and send it home in pieces. We've
+got thirty-five minutes left in which to show that we're as good if not
+better than Robinson. Any fellow that thinks he's not as good as the man
+he's going to line up against had better stay out. I know that every one
+of you is willing, but some of you appeared in the last half to be
+laboring under the impression that you were up against better men. Get
+rid of that idea. Those Robinson fellows are just the same as you--two
+legs, two arms, two eyes, a nose, and a mouth. Go at it right and you
+can put them out of the play. Remember before you give up that the other
+man's just as tuckered as you are, maybe more so. Your captain says we
+can win out. I think he knows more about it than we fellows on the
+side-line do. Now go ahead, get together, put all you've got into it,
+and see whether your captain knows what he's talking about. Let's have
+a cheer for Erskine!"
+
+Neil stood up on the bench and got into that cheer in great shape. He
+was feeling better. Mills had half promised to put him in, and while
+that might mean much or nothing it was ground for hope. He trotted on to
+the field and over to the benches almost happily.
+
+The spectators were settling back in their seats, and the cheering had
+begun once more. The north stand had regained its spirit. After all, the
+game wasn't lost until the last whistle blew, and there was no telling
+what might happen before that. So the student section cheered and sang,
+the band heroically strove to make itself heard, and the purple flags
+tossed and fluttered. The sun was almost behind the west corner of the
+stand, and overcoat collars and fur neck-pieces were being snuggled into
+place. From the west tiers of seats came the steady tramp-tramp of
+chilled feet, hinting their owners' impatience.
+
+The players took their places, silence fell, and the referee's whistle
+blew. Robinson kicked off, and the last half of the battle began.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+NEIL GOES IN
+
+But what a dismal beginning it was!
+
+Pearse, who had taken Gillam's place at right half-back, misjudged the
+long, low kick, just managed to tip the ball with one outstretched hand
+as it went over his head, and so had to turn and chase it back to the
+goal-line. But Mason had seen the danger and was before him. Seizing the
+bouncing pigskin, he was able to reach the ten-yard line ere the
+Robinson right end bore him to earth. A moment later the ball went to
+the other side as a penalty for holding, and it was Robinson's first
+down on Erskine's twelve yards. Neil, watching intently from the bench,
+groaned loudly. Stone, beside him, kicked angrily into the turf.
+
+"That settles it," he muttered glumly. "Idiots!"
+
+Pearse it was who met that first fierce onslaught of the Brown's tandem,
+and he was new to the play; but Mason was behind him, and he was sent
+crashing into the leader like a ball from the mouth of a cannon. The
+tandem stopped; a sudden bedlam of voices from the stands broke forth;
+there were cries of "Ball! Ball!" and Witter flung himself through,
+rolled over a few times, and on the twenty-yard line, with half the
+Erskine team striving to pull him on and all the Robinson team trying to
+pull him back, groaned a faint "Down!" Robinson's tackle had fumbled the
+pass, and for the moment Erskine's goal was out of danger.
+
+"Line up!" shouted Ted Foster. "Signal!"
+
+The men scurried to their places.
+
+"_49--35--23!_"
+
+Back went the ball and Pearse was circling out toward his own left end,
+Paul interfering. The north stand leaped to its feet, for it looked for
+a moment as though the runner was safely away. But Seider, the Brown's
+right half, got him about the knees, and though Pearse struggled and was
+dragged fully five yards farther, finally brought him down. Fifteen
+yards was netted, and the Erskine supporters found cause for
+loud acclaim.
+
+"Bully tackle, that," said Neil. Stone nodded.
+
+"Seems to me we can get around those ends," he muttered; "especially the
+left. I don't think Bloch is much of a wonder. There goes Pearse."
+
+The ends were again worked by the two half-backs and the distance thrice
+won. The purple banners waved ecstatically and the cheers for Erskine
+thundered out. Neil was slapping Stone wildly on the knee.
+
+"Hold on," protested the left end, "try the other. That one's a bit
+lame."
+
+"Isn't Pearse a peach?" said Neil. "Oh, but I wish I was out there!"
+
+"You may get a whack at it yet," answered Stone. "There goes a jab at
+the line."
+
+"I may," sighed Neil. He paused and watched Mason get a yard through the
+Brown's left tackle. "Only, if I don't, I suppose I won't get my E."
+
+"Oh, yes, you will. The Artmouth game counts, you know."
+
+"I wasn't in it."
+
+"That's so, you weren't; I'd forgotten. But I think you'll get it, just
+the--Good work, Gale!" Paul had made four yards outside of tackle, and
+it was again Erskine's first down on the fifty-five-yard line. The
+cheers from the north stand were continuous; Neil and Stone were obliged
+to put their heads together to hear what each other said.
+
+For five minutes longer Erskine's wonderful good fortune continued, and
+the ball was at length on Robinson's twenty-eight yards near the north
+side-line. Foster was waving his hand entreatingly toward the seats,
+begging for a chance to make his signals heard. From across the field,
+in the sudden comparative stillness of the north stand, thundered the
+confident slogan of Robinson. The brown-stockinged captain and
+quarter-back was shouting incessantly:
+
+"Steady now, fellows! Break through! Break through! Smash 'em up!" He
+ran from one end to the other, thumping each encouragingly on the back,
+whispering threats and entreaties into their ears. "Now, then, Robinson,
+let's stop 'em right here!"
+
+Foster, red-faced and hoarse, leaned forward, patted Stowell on the
+thigh, caught the ball, passed it quickly to Mason as that youth plunged
+for the line, and then threw himself into the breach, pushing, heaving,
+fighting for every inch that gave under his torn and scuffled shoes.
+
+"Second down; four to gain!"
+
+Robinson was awake now to her danger. Foster saw the futility of further
+attempts at the line for the present and called for a run around left
+end. The ball went to Pearse, but Bloch for once was ready for him, and,
+getting by Kendall, nailed the runner prettily four yards back of the
+line to the triumphant pæans of the south stand.
+
+When the teams had again lined up Foster dropped back as though to try a
+kick for goal, a somewhat difficult feat considering the angle. The
+Robinson captain was alarmed; he was ready to believe that a team who
+had already sprung one surprise on him was capable of securing goals
+from any angle whatever; his voice arose in hoarse entreaty:
+
+"Get through and block this kick, fellows! Get through! Get through!"
+
+"_Signal_!" cried Foster. "_44--18--23!_"
+
+The ball flew back from Stowell and Foster caught it breast-high. The
+Erskine line held for a moment, then the blue-clad warriors came
+plunging through desperately, and had Foster attempted a kick the ball
+would never have gone ten feet; but Foster, who knew his limitations in
+the kicking line as well as any one else, had entertained no such idea.
+The pigskin, fast clutched to Paul's breast, was already circling the
+Brown's left end. Devoe had put his opponent out of the play, thereby
+revenging himself for like treatment in the first half, and Pearse, a
+veritable whirlwind, had bowled over the Robinson left half. There is,
+perhaps, no prettier play than a fake kick, when it succeeds, and the
+friends of Erskine recognized the fact and showed their appreciation in
+a way that threatened to shake the stand from its foundations.
+
+Paul and Pearse were circling well out in the middle of the field toward
+the Robinson goal, now some thirty yards distant measured by white
+lines, but far more than that by the course they were taking. Behind
+them streamed a handful of desperate runners; before them, rapidly
+getting between them and the goal, sped White, the Robinson captain and
+quarter. To the spectators a touch-down looked certain, for it was one
+man against two; the pursuit was not dangerous. But to Paul it seemed at
+each plunge a more forlorn attempt. So far he had borne more than his
+share of the punishment sustained by the tackle-tandem defense; he had
+worked hard on offense since the present half began, and now, wearied
+and aching in every bone and muscle, he found himself scarce able to
+keep pace with his interference.
+
+He would have yielded the ball to Pearse had he been able to tell the
+other to take it; but his breath was too far gone for speech. So he
+plunged onward, each step slower than that before, his eyes fixed on the
+farthest white streak. From three sides of the great field poured forth
+the resonance of twelve thousand voices, triumphant, despairing,
+appealing, inciting, the very acme of sound.
+
+Yet Paul vows that he heard nothing save the beat of Pearse's footsteps
+and the awful pounding of his own heart.
+
+On the fifteen-yard line, just to the left of the goal, the critical
+moment came. White, with clutching, outstretched hands, strove to evade
+Pearse's shoulder, and did so. But the effort cost him what he gained,
+for, dodging Pearse and striving to make a sudden turn toward Paul, his
+foot slipped and he measured his length on the turf; and ere he had
+regained his feet the pursuit passed over him. Pearse met the first
+runner squarely and both went down. At the same instant Paul threw up
+one hand blindly and fell across the last line.
+
+On the north stand hats and flags sailed through the air. The south
+stand was silent.
+
+Paul lay unmoving where he had fallen. Simson was at his side in a
+moment. Neil, his heart thumping with joy, watched anxiously from the
+bench. Presently the group dissolved and Paul emerged between Simson and
+Browning, white of face and stumbling weakly on his legs, but grinning
+like a jovial satyr. Mills turned to the bench and Neil's heart jumped
+into his throat; but it was Smith and not he who struggled feverishly
+out of his sweater, donned a head-harness, and sped on to the field.
+Neil sighed and sank back.
+
+"Next time," said Stone sympathetically. But Neil shook his head.
+
+"I guess there isn't going to be any 'next time,'" he said dolefully.
+"Time's nearly up."
+
+"Not a bit of it; the last ten minutes is longer than all the rest of
+the game," answered Stone. "I wonder who'll try the goal."
+
+"We've got to have it," said Neil. "Surely Devoe can kick an easy one
+like that! Why, it's dead in the center!" Stone shook his head.
+
+"I know, but Bob's got a bad way of getting nervous times like this. He
+knows that if he misses we've lost the game, unless we can manage to
+score again, which isn't likely; and it's dollars to doughnuts he
+doesn't come anywhere near it!"
+
+Paul staggered up to the bench, Simson carefully wrapping a blanket
+about him, and the fellows made room for him a little way from where
+Neil sat. He stretched his long legs out gingerly because of the aches,
+sighed contentedly, and looked about him. His eyes fell on Neil.
+
+"Hello, chum!" he said weakly. "Haven't you gone in yet?"
+
+"Not yet," answered Neil cheerfully. "How are you feeling?"
+
+"Oh, I'm--ouch!--I'm all right; a bit sore here and there."
+
+"Devoe's going to kick," said Stone uneasily.
+
+The ball had been brought out, and now Foster was holding it directly in
+front of the center of the cross-bar. The south stand was cheering and
+singing wildly in a desperate attempt to rattle the Erskine captain. The
+latter looked around once, and the Robinson supporters, taking that as a
+sign of nervousness, redoubled their noise.
+
+"Muckers!" groaned Neil. Stone grinned.
+
+"Everything goes with them," he said.
+
+The referee's hand went down, Devoe stepped forward, the blue-clad line
+leaped into the field, and the ball sped upward. As it fell Neil turned
+to Stone and the two stared at each other in doubt. From both stands
+arose a confused roar. Then their eyes sought the score-board at the
+west end of the field and they groaned in unison.
+
+"NO GOAL."
+
+"What beastly luck!" muttered Stone.
+
+Neil was silent. Mills and Jones were standing near by and looking
+toward the bench and Neil imagined they were discussing him. He watched
+breathlessly, then his heart gave a suffocating leap and he was racing
+toward the two coaches.
+
+"Warm up, Fletcher."
+
+That was all, but it was all Neil asked for. In a twinkling he was
+trotting along the line, stretching his cramped legs and arms. As he
+passed the bench he tried to look unconcerned, but the row of kindly,
+grinning faces told him that his delight was common property. Paul
+silently applauded.
+
+Meanwhile the teams had again faced each other. Twelve minutes of play
+remained and the score-board said: Erskine 5, Opponents 6. Both elevens
+had made changes. For Erskine, Graham, immense of bulk but slow, had
+replaced Stowell at center, and Reardon was in Foster's position.
+Robinson had put in new men at left tackle, right end, and full-back.
+The game went on again.
+
+Devoe got the kick-off and brought the ball back to his thirty yards;
+but he was injured when thrown and Bell took his place. Smith and Mason
+each made two yards around the ends and Pearse got through left-guard
+for one. Then a plunge at right tackle resulted disastrously, Mason
+being forced back three yards, and Smith took the pigskin for a try
+outside of right tackle. He was stopped easily and Mason kicked.
+Robinson got the ball on her fifty yards and ran it back to Erskine's
+forty-three. Once more the tackle-tandem was brought into play. Smith
+failed to stop it, and the head of the defense was given to Pearse; but
+Robinson's new left tackle was a good man, and yard by yard Erskine was
+borne back toward her goal. The south stand blossomed anew with brown
+silk and bunting.
+
+On her thirty yards Erskine was penalized for off-side and the ball was
+almost under her goal. The first fierce plunge of the tandem broke the
+Purple line in twain and the backs went through for three yards. Mason
+was hurt and the whistle shrilled. A cheer arose from the north stand
+and a youth running into the field from the side-line heard it with
+fast-beating heart.
+
+"_Erskine! Erskine! Erskine! Rah-rah-rah, rah-rah-rah, rah-rah-rah!
+Fletcher! Fletcher! Fletcher!_"
+
+Mason was taken off, protesting feebly, and on the next plunge of the
+tackle-tandem Neil, with Pearse behind him, brought hope back to Erskine
+hearts, for the "antidote" worked to perfection again. All the pent-up
+strength and enthusiasm of Neil's body and heart were turned loose, and
+he played, as he had known he could if given the opportunity, as he had
+never played before, either at Erskine or Hillton. The spirit of battle
+held him; he was perfectly happy, and every knock and bruise brought him
+joy rather than pain. His chance had come to prove to both the coaches
+and the fellows that their first estimate of him was the correct one.
+
+Robinson made her distance and gained the twenty-yard line by a trick
+play outside of left tackle; but that was all she did on that occasion,
+for in the next three downs she failed to advance the ball a single
+inch, and it went to Erskine. Neil dropped back and the pigskin settled
+into his ready hands. When it next touched earth it was in Robinson's
+possession on her own fifty yards. That punt brought a burst of applause
+from the north seats. Robinson tried tackle-tandem again and Neil and
+Pearse stopped it short. Again, and again there was no advance; but when
+Neil picked himself out of the pile-up he made the discovery that
+something was radically wrong with his right arm and shoulder. He sat
+down on the trampled turf to think it over and closed his eyes. He heard
+the whistle and Reardon's voice above him:
+
+"Hurt?"
+
+Neil looked up and shook his head. His gaze fell on Simson headed toward
+him followed by the water-carrier. He staggered to his feet, Reardon's
+arm about him.
+
+"Keep 'Baldy' away," he muttered. "I'm all right; but don't let him get
+to me."
+
+Reardon looked at his white face for a second in doubt. Simson was
+almost up to them. He wanted to win, did Reardon, and--
+
+"All right here," he cried.
+
+Neil went to his place, Simson retreated, suspicion written all over his
+face, and the whistle sounded.
+
+Neil met the next attack with his left shoulder fore-most. And it was
+Erskine's ball on Robinson's fifty-yards.
+
+On the first try around the Brown's left end Smith took the leather
+twenty yards, catching Bloch napping. The north stand was on its feet in
+an instant. Cheer after cheer broke forth encouraging the Purple
+warriors to fight their way across those six remaining white lines and
+wrest victory from defeat. But there was no time to struggle over the
+thirty yards that intervened. A long run might bring a touch-down if
+Erskine could again get a back around an end, but two minutes was too
+short a time for line-bucking; and, besides, Reardon had his orders.
+
+On the side-line the timekeeper was keeping a careful eye upon his
+stop-watch.
+
+A try by Neil outside of right tackle netted but a yard and left him
+half fainting on the ground. Pearse set off for the left end of the line
+on the next play, but never reached it; the Robinson right tackle got
+through on to him and stopped him well back of his line.
+
+"Third down," called the referee, "five to gain!"
+
+The teams were lined up about half-way between the Robinson goal and the
+south side of the field, the ball just inside the thirty-yard line.
+Reardon had been directed to try for a field-goal as soon as he got
+inside the twenty-five yards. This was only the thirty yards, and the
+angle was severe. There was perhaps one chance in three of making a goal
+from placement; a drop-kick was out of the question. Moreover, to make
+matters more desperate, Neil was injured; just how badly Reardon didn't
+know, but the other's white, drawn face told its own story. If the
+attempt failed he would be held to blame by the coaches, if it succeeded
+he would be praised for good generalship; it was a way coaches had. His
+consideration of the problem lasted but a fraction of a minute. He
+glanced at Neil and their eyes met. The quarter-back's mind was made up
+on the instant.
+
+"_Signal_!" he cried. "_Steady, fellows; we want this; every one hold
+hard_!"
+
+He trotted back to the thirty-five-yard line and dropped to his knees,
+directly behind and almost facing center. Neil took up his position
+three yards from him and facing the goal. Pearse and Smith stood guard
+between him and the line. The Robinson right half turned and sped back
+to join the quarter, whose commands to "Get through and stop this kick!"
+were being shouted lustily from his position near the goal-line.
+
+"Signal!" Reardon repeated. Graham stooped over the ball. Neil, pale but
+with a little smile about his mouth, measured his distance. Victory
+depended upon him. From where Reardon knelt to the goal was nearly forty
+yards on a straight line and the angle was severe. If he made it, well
+and good; if he missed--He recalled what Mills had told him ere he
+sent him in:
+
+"I think you can win this for us, Fletcher. Once inside their
+twenty-five Reardon will give you the ball for a kick from drop or
+placement, as you think best. Whatever happens, don't let your nerves
+get the best of you. If you miss, why, you've missed, that's all. Don't
+think the world's coming to an end because we've been beaten. A hundred
+years from now, when you and I aren't even memories, Erskine will still
+be turning out football teams. But if we can, we want to win. Just keep
+cool and do your level best, that's all we ask. Now get in there."
+
+Neil took a deep breath. He'd do his best. If the line held, the ball
+ought to go over. He was cool enough now, and although his shoulder
+seemed on fire, the smile about his mouth deepened and grew confident.
+Reardon stretched forth his hands.
+
+"_Signal!_" he cried for the third time; but no signal was forthcoming.
+Instead Graham sped the ball back to him, steady and true, and the
+Robinson line, almost caught napping, failed to charge until the oval
+had settled into Reardon's hands and had been placed upon the ground
+well cocked at the goal. Then the Brown's warriors broke through and
+bore down, big and ugly, upon Pearse and Smith; but Neil was stepping
+toward the ball; a long stride, a short one, a long one, and toe and
+pigskin came together. Pearse was down and Smith was shouldering
+valiantly at a big guard. Two blue-clad arms swept upward almost into
+the path of the rising ball; there was a confused sound of crashing
+bodies and rasping canvas, and then a Robinson man bounded against Neil
+and sent him reeling to earth.
+
+For an instant the desire to lie still and close his eyes was strong.
+But there was the ball! He rolled half over, and raising himself on his
+left hand looked eagerly toward the posts. The pigskin, turning lazily
+over and over, was still in flight. Straight for the goal it was
+speeding, but now it had begun to drop. Neil's heart stood still. Would
+it clear the cross-bar? It seemed scarcely possible, but even as despair
+seized him, for an instant the bar came between his straining eyes and
+the dropping ball!
+
+A figure with tattered purple sleeves near at hand leaped into the air,
+waving his arms wildly. On the stand across the field pandemonium
+broke loose.
+
+Neil closed his eyes.
+
+A moment later Simson found him there, sitting on the thirty-five-yard
+line, one arm hanging limply over his knee, his eyes closed, and his
+white face wreathed in smiles.
+
+Erskine 10, Opponents 6, said the score-board.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+AFTER THE BATTLE
+
+"You'll not get off so easily this time," said the doctor.
+
+"No, sir," replied Neil, striving to look concerned.
+
+He was back on the couch again, just where he had been four weeks
+previous, with his shoulder swathed about in bandages just as it had
+been then.
+
+"I can't see what you were thinking about," went on the other irritably,
+"to go on playing after you'd bust things up again."
+
+"No, sir--that is, I'm sure I don't know." Neil's tone was very meek,
+but the doctor nevertheless looked at him suspiciously.
+
+"Humph! Much you care, I guess. But, just the same, my fine fellow,
+it'll be Christmas before you have the use of that arm again. That'll
+give you time to see what an idiot you were."
+
+"Thank you, sir."
+
+The doctor smiled in spite of himself and looked away.
+
+[Illustration: Erskine vs. Robinson--The Second Half.]
+
+"Doesn't seem to have interfered with your appetite, anyhow," he said,
+glancing at the well-nigh empty tray on the chair.
+
+"No, sir; I--I tried not to eat much, but I was terribly hungry, Doc."
+
+"Oh, I guess you'll do." He picked up his hat; then he faced the couch
+again and its occupant. "The trouble with you chaps," he said severely,
+"is that as long as you've managed to get a silly old leather wind-bag
+over a fool streak of lime you think it doesn't matter how much you've
+broke yourselves to pieces."
+
+"Yes, it's very thoughtless of us," murmured Neil with deep
+contriteness.
+
+"Humph!" growled the doctor. "See you in the morning."
+
+When the door had closed Neil reached toward the tray and with much
+difficulty buttered a piece of Graham bread, almost the only edible
+thing left. Then he settled back against the pillows, not without
+several grimaces as the injured shoulder was moved, and contentedly ate
+it. He was very well satisfied. To be sure, a month of invalidism was
+not a pleasing prospect, but things might have been worse. And the end
+paid for all. Robinson had departed with trailing banners; the coaches
+and the whole college were happy; Paul was happy; Sydney was happy; he
+was happy himself. Certainly the bally shoulder--ouch!--hurt at times;
+but, then one can't have everything one wants. His meditations were
+interrupted by voices and footsteps outside the front door. He bolted
+the last morsel of bread and awaited the callers.
+
+These proved to be Paul and Sydney and--Neil stared--Tom Cowan.
+
+"Rah-rah-rah!" shouted Paul, slamming the door. "How are they coming,
+chum? Here's Burr and Cowan to make polite injuries after your
+inquiries--I mean inquiries--well, you know what I mean. Tom's been
+saying all sorts of nice things about your playing, and I think he'd
+like to shake hands with the foot that kicked that goal."
+
+Neil laughed and put out his hand. Cowan, grinning, took it.
+
+"It was fine, Fletcher," he said with genuine enthusiasm. "And, some
+way, I knew when I saw you drop back that you were going to put it over.
+I'd have bet a hundred dollars on it!"
+
+"Thunder, you were more confident than I was!" Neil laughed. "I wouldn't
+have bet more than thirty cents. Well, Board of Strategy, how did you
+like the game?"
+
+Sydney shook his head gravely.
+
+"I wouldn't care to go through it again," he answered. "I had all kinds
+of heart disease before the first half was over, and after that I was
+in a sort of daze; didn't know really whether it was football or
+Friday-night lectures."
+
+"You ought to have been at table to-night, chum," said Paul. "We made
+Rome howl. Mills made a speech, and so did Jones and 'Baldy,' and--oh,
+every one. It was fine!"
+
+"And they cheered a fellow named Fletcher for nearly five minutes,"
+added Sydney. "And--"
+
+"Hear 'em!" Cowan interrupted. From the direction of the yard came a
+long volley of cheers for Erskine. Dinner was over and the fellows were
+ready for the celebration; they were warming up.
+
+"Great times to-night," said Paul happily. "I wish you were going out to
+the field with us, Neil."
+
+"Maybe I will."
+
+"If you try it I'll strap you down," replied Paul indignantly. "By the
+way, Mills told me to announce his coming. He's terribly tickled, is
+Mills, although he doesn't say very much."
+
+"He's still wondering how you went stale before the game and then played
+the way you did," said Sydney. "However, I didn't say anything." He
+caught himself up and glanced doubtfully toward Cowan. "I don't know
+whether it's a secret?" He appealed to Neil, who was frowning across
+at him.
+
+"What's a secret?" demanded Paul.
+
+"Don't mind me," said Cowan. "It may be a secret, but I guessed it long
+ago, didn't I, Paul?"
+
+"What in thunder are you all talking about?" asked that youth, staring
+inquiringly from one to another. Sydney saw that he had touched on
+forbidden ground and now looked elaborately ignorant.
+
+"Oh, nothing, Paul," answered Neil. "When are you all going out to the
+field?"
+
+"But there is something," his chum protested warmly. "Now out with it.
+What is it, Cowan? What did you guess?"
+
+"Why, about Fletcher going stale so that you could get into the game,"
+answered Cowan, apparently ignorant of Neil's wrathful grimaces. "I
+guessed right away. Why--"
+
+"Oh, shut up, won't you?" Neil entreated. "Don't mind them, Paul;
+they're crazy. Sydney, you're an ass, if you only knew it."
+
+"But I thought he knew--" began Sydney.
+
+"No, I didn't know," said Paul, quietly, his eyes on Neil's averted
+face. "I--I must have been blind. It's plain enough now, of course. If I
+had known I wouldn't have taken the place."
+
+"You're all a set of idiots," muttered Neil.
+
+"I'm sorry I said anything," said Sydney, genuinely distressed.
+
+"I'm glad," said Paul. "I'm such a selfish brute that I can't see half
+an inch before my nose. Chum, all I've got to say--"
+
+"Shut up," cried Neil. "Listen, fellows, they're marching across the
+common. Some one help me to the window. I want to see."
+
+Paul strode to his side, and putting an arm under his shoulders lifted
+him to his feet. Sydney lowered the gas and the four crowded to the
+window. Across the common, a long dark column in the starlight, tramped
+all Erskine, and at the head marched the band.
+
+"Gee, what a crowd!" muttered Cowan.
+
+The head of the procession passed through the gate and turned toward the
+house, and the band struck up 'Neath the Elms of Old Erskine. Hundreds
+of voices joined in and the slow and stately song thundered up toward
+the star-sprinkled sky.
+
+Paul's arm was still around his room-mate; its clasp tightened a little.
+
+"Say, chum."
+
+"Well?" muttered Neil.
+
+"Thanks."
+
+"Oh, don't bother me," Neil grumbled. "Let's get out of this; they're
+stopping."
+
+Sydney had stolen, as noiselessly as one may on crutches, to the
+chandelier, and suddenly the gas flared up, sending a path of light
+across the street and revealing the three at the window. Neil,
+exclaiming and protesting, strove to draw back, but Paul held him fast.
+From the crowd outside came the deep and long-drawn _A-a-ay!_ and grew
+and spread up the line.
+
+And then the cheering began.
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13556 ***
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+<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Behind the Line, by Ralph Henry Barbour</title>
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+<body>
+<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13556 ***</div>
+<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, Behind the Line, by Ralph Henry Barbour,
+Illustrated by C. M. Relyea</h1>
+<hr class="full" noshade>
+<br>
+<a name="illus-000.jpg"></a>
+<p class="ctr"><a href="images/illus-000.jpg">
+<img src="images/illus-000.jpg" width="50%" alt=""></a><br>
+<b>A critical moment.</b></p>
+<br>
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h1>BEHIND THE LINE</h1>
+
+<h2>A Story of College<br>
+Life and Football
+</h2><br>
+
+<h4>BY</h4>
+<h3>RALPH HENRY BARBOUR</h3>
+<h5>AUTHOR OF THE HALF-BACK, CAPTAIN OF THE CREW, AND<br>
+FOR THE HONOR OF THE SCHOOL</h5>
+
+<h4><i>Illustrated by C.M. Relyea</i></h4>
+
+<p class="ctr"><img src="images/illus-002.png" width="15%" alt=""><br></p>
+
+
+<h4>1902</h4>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h4>TO</h4>
+<h3>MY MOTHER</h3>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2>PREFATORY NOTE</h2>
+
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+
+<center>The Author takes pleasure in acknowledging his indebtedness to<br>
+Mr. Lorin F. Deland, of Boston, for the football play described in Chapter XV.</center>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2>CONTENTS</h2>
+
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+
+<center>
+<table summary="">
+<tr>
+<td>CHAPTER</td>
+<td>&nbsp;</td>
+<td>&nbsp;</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="right">I.--</td>
+<td><a href="#CHAPTER_I">HEROES IN MOLESKIN</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="right">II.--</td>
+<td><a href="#CHAPTER_II">PAUL CHANGES HIS MIND</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="right">III.--</td>
+<td><a href="#CHAPTER_III">IN NEW QUARTERS</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="right">IV.--</td>
+<td><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">NEIL MAKES ACQUAINTANCES</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="right">V.--</td>
+<td><a href="#CHAPTER_V">AND SHOWS HIS METTLE</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="right">VI.--</td>
+<td><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">MILLS, HEAD COACH</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="right">VII.--</td>
+<td><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">THE GENTLE ART OF HANDLING PUNTS</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="right">VIII.--</td>
+<td><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">THE KIDNAPING</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="right">IX.--</td>
+<td><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">THE BROKEN TRICYCLE</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="right">X.--</td>
+<td><a href="#CHAPTER_X">NEIL MAKES THE VARSITY</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="right">XI.--</td>
+<td><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">THE RESULT OF A FUMBLE</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="right">XII.--</td>
+<td><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">ON THE HOSPITAL LIST</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="right">XIII.--</td>
+<td><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">SYDNEY STUDIES STRATEGY</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="right">XIV.--</td>
+<td><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">MAKES A CALL</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="right">XV.--</td>
+<td><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">AND TELLS OF A DREAM</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="right">XVI.--</td>
+<td><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">ROBINSON SENDS A PROTEST</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="right">XVII.--</td>
+<td><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">A PLAN AND A CONFESSION</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="right">XVIII.--</td>
+<td><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">NEIL IS TAKEN OUT</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="right">XIX.--</td>
+<td><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">ON THE EVE OF BATTLE</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="right">XX.--</td>
+<td><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">COWAN BECOMES INDIGNANT</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="right">XXI.--</td>
+<td><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">THE &quot;ANTIDOTE&quot; IS ADMINISTERED</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="right">XXII.--</td>
+<td><a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">BETWEEN THE HALVES</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="right">XXIII.--</td>
+<td><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">NEIL GOES IN</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="right">XXIV.--</td>
+<td><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">AFTER THE BATTLE</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+</center>
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTKATIONS</h2>
+
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+
+<center>
+<table summary="">
+<tr>
+<td><a href="#illus-000.jpg">A critical moment</a></td>
+<td align="right"><i>frontispiece</i></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>Getting settled</td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><a href="#illus-052.jpg">The vine swayed at every strain</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><a href="#illus-081.jpg">Hiding his face, he cried for help</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>&quot;I guess you've broken down,&quot; said Neil</td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><a href="#illus-152.jpg">Mills studied the diagram in silence</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+</center>
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2>
+
+<h3>HEROES IN MOLESKIN</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>&quot;Third down, four yards to gain!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The referee trotted out of the scrimmage line and
+blew his whistle; the Hillton quarter-back crouched again
+behind the big center; the other backs scurried to their
+places as though for a kick.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>9--6--12!</i>&quot; called quarter huskily.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Get through!&quot; shrieked the St. Eustace captain.
+&quot;Block this kick!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>4--8!</i>&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The ball swept back to the full, the halves formed
+their interference, and the trio sped toward the right
+end of the line. For an instant the opposing ranks heaved
+and struggled; for an instant Hillton repelled the attack;
+then, like a shot, the St. Eustace left tackle hurtled
+through and, avoiding the interference, nailed the Hillton
+runner six yards back of the line. A square of the
+grand stand blossomed suddenly with blue, and St. Eustace's
+supporters, already hoarse with cheering and singing,
+once more broke into triumphant applause. The
+score-board announced fifteen minutes to play, and the
+ball went to the blue-clad warriors on Hillton's forty-yard
+line.</p>
+
+<p>Hillton and St. Eustace were once more battling for
+supremacy on the gridiron in their annual Thanksgiving
+Day contest. And, in spite of the fact that Hillton was
+on her own grounds, St. Eustace's star was in the ascendant,
+and defeat hovered dark and ominous over the Crimson.
+With the score 5 to 0 in favor of the visitors, with
+her players battered and wearied, with the second half
+of the game already half over, Hillton, outweighted and
+outplayed, fought on with the doggedness born of despair
+in an almost hopeless struggle to avert impending defeat.</p>
+
+<p>In the first few minutes of the first half St. Eustace
+had battered her way down the field, throwing her heavy
+backs through the crimson line again and again, until she
+had placed the pigskin on Hillton's three-yard line. There
+the Hillton players had held stubbornly against two attempts
+to advance, but on the third down had fallen victims
+to a delayed pass, and St. Eustace had scored her
+only touch-down. The punt-out had failed, however, and
+the cheering flaunters of blue banners had perforce to be
+content with five points.</p>
+
+<p>Then it was that Hillton had surprised her opponents,
+for when the Blue's warriors had again sought to hammer
+and beat their way through the opposing line they found
+that Hillton had awakened from her daze, and their gains
+were small and infrequent. Four times ere the half was
+at an end St. Eustace was forced to kick, and thrice, having
+by the hardest work and almost inch by inch fought
+her way to within scoring distance of her opponent's goal,
+she met a defense that was impregnable to her most desperate
+assaults. Then it was that the Crimson had waved
+madly over the heads of Hillton's shrieking supporters
+and hope had again returned to their hearts.</p>
+
+<p>In the second half Hillton had secured the ball on the
+kick-off, and, never losing possession of it, had struggled
+foot by foot to within fifteen yards of the Blue's goal.
+From there a kick from placement had been tried, but Gale,
+Hillton's captain and right half-back, had been thrown before
+his foot had touched the leather, and the St. Eustace
+right-guard had fallen on the ball. A few minutes later a
+fumble returned the pigskin to Hillton on the Blue's
+thirty-three yards, and once more the advance was taken
+up. Thrice the distance had been gained by plunges into
+the line and short runs about the ends, and once Fletcher,
+Hillton's left half, had got away safely for twenty yards.
+But on her eight-yard line, under the shadow of her goal,
+St. Eustace had held bravely, and, securing the ball on
+downs, punted it far down the field into her opponent's
+territory. Fletcher had run it back ten yards ere he was
+downed, and from there it had gone six yards further by
+one superb hurdle by the full-back. But St. Eustace had
+then held finely, and on the third down, as has been told,
+Hillton's fake-kick play had been demolished by the
+Blue's tackle, and the ball was once more in the hands
+of St. Eustace's big center rush.</p>
+
+<p>On the side-line, his hands in his pockets and his short
+brier pipe clenched firmly between his teeth, Gardiner,
+Hillton's head coach, watched grimly the tide of battle.
+Things had gone worse than he had anticipated. He had
+not hoped for too much--a tie would have satisfied him;
+a victory for Hillton had been beyond his expectations.
+St. Eustace far outweighed his team; her center was almost
+invulnerable and her back field was fast and heavy.
+But, despite the modesty of his expectations, Gardiner
+was disappointed. The plays that he had believed would
+prove to be ground-gainers had failed almost invariably.
+Neil Fletcher, the left half, on whom the head coach had
+placed the greatest reliance, had, with a single exception,
+failed to circle the ends for any distance. To be sure, the
+St. Eustace end rushes had proved more knowing than he
+had given them credit for being, and so the fault was,
+after all, not with Fletcher; but it was disappointing
+nevertheless.</p>
+
+<p>And, as is invariably the case, he saw where he had
+made mistakes in the handling of his team; realized, now
+that it was too late, that he had given too much attention
+to that thing, too little to this; that, as things had
+turned out, certain plays discarded a week before would
+have proved of more value than those substituted. He
+sighed, and moved down the line to keep abreast of the
+teams, now five yards nearer the Hillton goal.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Crozier must come out in a moment,&quot; said a voice
+beside him. He turned to find Professor Beck, the trainer
+and physical director. &quot;What a game he has put up, eh?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Gardiner nodded.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Best quarter in years,&quot; he answered. &quot;It'll weaken
+us considerably, but I suppose it's necessary.&quot; There
+was a note of interrogation in the last, and the professor
+heard it.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, yes, quite,&quot; he replied. &quot;The boy's on his last
+legs.&quot; Gardiner turned to the line of substitutes behind
+them.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Decker!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The call was taken up by those nearest at hand, and
+the next instant a short, stockily-built youth was peeling
+off his crimson sweater. The referee's whistle blew,
+and while the mound of squirming players found their
+feet again, Gardiner walked toward them, his hand on
+Decker's shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Play slow and steady your team, Decker,&quot; he counseled.
+&quot;Use Young and Fletcher for runs; try them
+outside of tackle, especially on the right. Give Gale a
+chance to hit the line now and then and diversify
+your plays well. And, my boy, if you get that ball
+again, and of course you will, <i>don't let it go</i>! Give up
+your twenty yards if necessary, only hang on to the
+leather!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then he thumped him encouragingly on the back and
+sped him forward. Crozier, the deposed quarter-back,
+was being led off by Professor Beck. The boy was pale
+of face and trembling with weariness, and one foot
+dragged itself after the other limply. But he was protesting
+with tears in his eyes against being laid off, and
+even the hearty cheers for him that thundered from the
+stand did not comfort him. Then the game went on, the
+tide of battle flowing slowly, steadily, toward the Crimson's
+goal.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If only they don't score again!&quot; said Gardiner.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's the best we can hope for,&quot; said Professor
+Beck.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes; it's turned out worse than I expected.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, you can comfort yourself with the knowledge
+that they've played as plucky a game against odds as I
+ever expect to see,&quot; answered the other. &quot;And we won't
+say die yet; there's still&quot;--he looked at his watch--
+there's still eight minutes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's good; I hope Decker will remember what I
+told him about runs outside right tackle,&quot; muttered Gardiner
+anxiously. Then he relighted his pipe and, with
+stolid face, watched events.</p>
+
+<p>St. Eustace was still hammering Hillton's line at the
+wings. Time and again the Blue's big full-back plunged
+through between guard and tackle, now on this side, now
+on that, and Hillton's line ever gave back and back, slowly,
+stubbornly, but surely.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;First down,&quot; cried the referee. &quot;Five yards to
+gain.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The pigskin now lay just midway between Hillton's
+ten-and fifteen-yard lines. Decker, the substitute quarter-back,
+danced about under the goal-posts.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now get through and break it up, fellows!&quot; he
+shouted. &quot;Get through! Get through!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But the crimson-clad line men were powerless to
+withstand the terrific plunges of the foe, and back
+once more they went, and yet again, and the ball was on
+the six-yard line, placed there by two plunges at right
+tackle.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;First down!&quot; cried the referee again.</p>
+
+<p>Then Hillton's cup of sorrow seemed overflowing.
+For on the next play the umpire's whistle shrilled, and
+half the distance to the goal-line was paced off. Hillton
+was penalized for holding, and the ball was on her three
+yards!</p>
+
+<p>From the section of the grand stand where the crimson
+flags waved came steady, entreating, the wailing slogan:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Hold, Hillton! Hold, Hillton! Hold, Hillton!</i>&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Near at hand, on the side-line, Gardiner ground his
+teeth on the stem of his pipe and watched with expressionless
+face. Professor Beck, at his side, frowned anxiously.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Put it over, now!&quot; cried the St. Eustace captain.
+&quot;Tear them up, fellows!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The quarter gave the signal, the two lines smashed together,
+and the whistle sounded. The ball had advanced
+less than a yard. The Hillton stand cheered hoarsely,
+madly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Line up! Line up!&quot; cried the Blue's quarter. &quot;Signal!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then it was that St. Eustace made her fatal mistake.
+With the memory of the delayed pass which had won St.
+Eustace her previous touch-down in mind, the Hillton
+quarter-back was on the watch.</p>
+
+<p>The ball went back, was lost to view, the lines heaved
+and strained. Decker shot to the left, and as he reached
+the end of the line the St. Eustace left half-back came
+plunging out of the throng, the ball snuggled against his
+stomach. Decker, just how he never knew, squirmed past
+the single interferer, and tackled the runner firmly about
+the hips. The two went down together on the seven
+yards, the blue-stockinged youth vainly striving to squirm
+nearer to the line, Decker holding for all he was worth.
+Then the Hillton left end sat down suddenly on the runner's
+head and the whistle blew.</p>
+
+<p>The grand stand was in an uproar, and cheers for
+Hillton filled the air. Gardiner turned away calmly and
+knocked the ashes from his pipe. Professor Beck beamed
+through his gold-rimmed glasses. Decker picked himself
+up and sped back to his position.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Signal</i>!&quot; he cried. But a St. Eustace player called
+for time and the whistle piped again.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If Decker tries a kick from there it'll be blocked, and
+they'll score again,&quot; said Gardiner. &quot;Our line can't hold.
+There's just one thing to do, but I fear Decker won't
+think of it.&quot; He caught Gale's eye and signaled the captain
+to the side-line.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What is it?&quot; panted that youth, taking the nose-guard
+from his mouth and tenderly nursing a swollen lip.
+Gardiner hesitated. Then--</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nothing. Only fight it out, Gale. You've got your
+chance now!&quot; Gale nodded and trotted back. Gardiner
+smiled ruefully. &quot;The rule against coaching from the
+side-lines may be a good one,&quot; he muttered, &quot;but I guess
+it's lost this game for us.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The whistle sounded and the lines formed again.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;First down,&quot; cried the referee, jumping nimbly out
+of the way. Decker had been in conference with the full-back,
+and now he sprang back to his place.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Signal!&quot; he cried. &quot;<i>14--7--31</i>!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The Hillton full stood just inside the goal-line and
+stretched his hands out.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>16--8</i>!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The center passed the pigskin straight and true to the
+full-back, but the latter, instead of kicking it, stood as
+though bewildered while the St. Eustace forwards plunged
+through the Hillton line as though it had been of paper.
+The next moment he was thrown behind his goal-line
+with the ball safe in his arms, and Gardiner, on the side-line,
+was smiling contentedly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Touch-back,&quot; cried Decker. &quot;Line up on the
+twenty yards, fellows!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Hillton's ruse had won her a free kick, and in another
+moment the ball was arching toward the St. Eustace goal.
+The Blue's left half secured it, but was downed on his
+forty yards. The first attack netted four yards through
+Hillton's left-guard, and the crimson flags drooped on
+their staffs. On the next play St. Eustace's full-back
+hurdled the line for two yards, but lost the pigskin, and
+amid frantic cries of &quot;Ball! Ball!&quot; Fletcher, Hillton's
+left half, dropped upon it. The crimson banners waved
+again, and Hillton voices once more took up the refrain of
+Hilltonians, while hope surged back into loyal hearts.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Five minutes to play,&quot; said Professor Beck. Gardiner
+nodded.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Time enough to win in,&quot; he answered.</p>
+
+<p>Decker crouched again, chanted his signal, and the
+Hillton full plunged at the blue-clad line. But only a
+yard resulted.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Signal</i>!&quot; cried the quarter. &quot;<i>8--51--16--5</i>!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The ball came back into his waiting hands, was thrown
+at a short pass to the left half, and, with right half showing
+the way and full-back charging along beside, Fletcher
+cleared the line through a wide gap outside of St. Eustace's
+right tackle and sped down the field while the Hillton
+supporters leaped to their feet and shrieked wildly.
+The full-back met the St. Eustace right half, and the two
+were left behind on the turf. Beside Fletcher, a little in
+advance, ran the Hillton captain and right half-back, Paul
+Gale. Between them and the goal, now forty yards away,
+only the St. Eustace quarter remained, but behind them
+came pounding footsteps that sounded dangerous.</p>
+
+<p>Gardiner, followed by the professor and a little army
+of privileged spectators, raced along the line.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He'll make it,&quot; muttered the head coach. &quot;They
+can't stop him!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>One line after another went under the feet of the two
+players. The pursuit was falling behind. Twenty yards
+remained to be covered. Then the waiting quarter-back,
+white-faced and desperate, was upon them. But Gale was
+equal to the emergency.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;To the left!&quot; he panted.</p>
+
+<p>Fletcher obeyed with weary limbs and leaden feet,
+and without looking knew that he was safe. Gale and
+the St. Eustace player went down together, and in another
+moment Fletcher was lying, faint but happy, over
+the line and back of the goal!</p>
+
+<p>The stands emptied themselves on the instant of their
+triumphant burden of shouting, cheering, singing Hilltonians,
+and the crimson banners waved and fluttered on to
+the field. Hillton had escaped defeat!</p>
+
+<p>But Fortune, now that she had turned her face toward
+the wearers of the Crimson, had further gifts to bestow.
+And presently, when the wearied and crestfallen
+opponents had lined themselves along the goal-line,
+Decker held the ball amid a breathless silence, and Hillton's
+right end sent it fair and true between the uprights:
+Hillton, 6; Opponents, 5.</p>
+
+<p>The game, so far as scoring went, ended there. Four
+minutes later the whistle shrilled for the last time, and
+the horde of frantic Hilltonians flooded the field and, led
+by the band, bore their heroes in triumph back to the
+school. And, side by side, at the head of the procession,
+perched on the shoulders of cheering friends, swayed the
+two half-backs, Neil Fletcher and Paul Gale.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2>
+
+<h3>PAUL CHANGES HIS MIND</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>Two boys were sitting in the first-floor corner study
+in Haewood's. Those who know the town of Hillton,
+New York, will remember Haewood's as the large residence
+at the corner of Center and Village Streets, from
+the big bow-window of which the occupant of the cushioned
+seat may look to the four points of the compass or
+watch for occasional signs of life about the court-house
+diagonally across. To-night--the bell in the tower of the
+town hall had just struck half after seven--the occupants
+of the corner study were interested in things other than
+the view.</p>
+
+<p>I have said that they were sitting. Lounging would
+be nearer the truth; for one, a boy of eighteen years, with
+merry blue eyes and cheeks flushed ruddily with health
+and the afterglow of the day's excitement, with hair just
+the color of raw silk that took on a glint of gold where
+the light fell upon it, was perched cross-legged amid the
+cushions at one end of the big couch, two strong, tanned,
+and much-scarred hands clasping his knees. His companion
+and his junior by but two months, a dark-complexioned
+youth with black hair and eyes and a careless,
+good-natured, but rather wilful face, on which at the
+present moment the most noticeable feature was a badly
+cut and much swollen lower lip, lay sprawled at the other
+end of the couch, his chin buried in one palm.</p>
+
+<p>Both lads were well built, broad of chest, and long of
+limb, with bright, clear eyes, and a warmth of color that
+betokened the best of physical condition. They had been
+friends and room-mates for two years. This was their last
+year at Hillton, and next fall they were to begin their
+college life together. The dark-complexioned youth
+rolled lazily on to his back and stared at the ceiling.
+Then--</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I suppose Crozier will get the captaincy, Neil.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The boy with light hair nodded without removing his
+gaze from the little flames that danced in the fireplace.
+They had discussed the day's happenings thoroughly, had
+relived the game with St. Eustace from start to finish, and
+now the big Thanksgiving dinner which they had eaten
+was beginning to work upon them a spell of dormancy. It
+was awfully jolly, thought Neil Fletcher, to just lie there
+and watch the flames and--and--He sighed comfortably
+and closed his eyes. At eight o'clock he, with the
+rest of the victorious team, was to be drawn about the
+town in a barge and cheered at, but meanwhile there was
+time to just close his eyes--and forget--everything--</p>
+
+<p>There was a knock at the study door.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Go 'way!&quot; grunted Neil.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, come in,&quot; called Paul Gale, without, however,
+removing his drowsy gaze from the ceiling or changing his
+position.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I beg your pardon. I am looking for Mr. Gale,
+and--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Paul dropped his legs over the side of the couch and
+sat up, blinking at the visitor. Neil followed his example.
+The caller was a carefully dressed man of
+about thirty-five, scarcely taller than Neil, but broader
+of shoulder. Paul recognized him, and, rising, shook
+hands.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How do you do, Mr. Brill? Glad to see you. Sit
+down, won't you? I guess we were both pretty nigh
+asleep when you knocked.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Small wonder,&quot; responded the visitor affably.
+&quot;After the work you did this afternoon you deserve
+sleep, and anything else you want.&quot; He laid aside his coat
+and hat and sank into the chair which Paul proffered.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;By the way,&quot; continued the latter, &quot;I don't think
+you've met my friend, Neil Fletcher. Neil, this is Mr.
+Brill, of Robinson; one of their coaches.&quot; The two shook
+hands.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm delighted to meet the hero--I should say one
+of the heroes--of the day,&quot; said Mr. Brill. &quot;That run
+was splendid; the way in which you two fellows got your
+speed up before you reached the line was worth coming
+over here to see, really it was.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, Paul set a pretty good pace,&quot; answered Neil.</p>
+
+<p>The visitor discussed the day's contest for a few minutes,
+during which Neil glanced uneasily from time to
+time at the clock, wondered what the visitor wanted there,
+and heartily wished he'd take himself off. But presently
+Mr. Brill got down to business.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You know we've had a little victory in football ourselves
+this fall,&quot; he was saying. &quot;We won from Erskine
+by 17 to 6 last week, and we're feeling rather stuck up
+over it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Wait till next year,&quot; said Neil to himself, &quot;and
+you'll get over it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And that,&quot; continued the coach, &quot;brings me to the
+object of my call tonight. Frankly, we want you two
+fellows at Robinson College, and I'm here to see if we
+can't have you.&quot; He paused and smiled engagingly at
+the boys. Neil glanced surprisedly at Paul, who was
+thoughtfully examining the scars on his knuckles.
+&quot;Don't decide until I've explained matters more clearly,&quot;
+went on the visitor. &quot;Perhaps neither of you have been
+to Collegetown, but at least you know about where Robinson
+stands in the athletic world, and you know that as
+an institution of learning it is in the front rank of the
+smaller colleges; in fact, in certain lines it might dispute
+the place of honor with some of the big ones.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;To the fellow who wants a college where he can
+learn and where, at the same time, he can give some
+attention to athletics, Robinson's bound to recommend
+itself. I mention this because you know as well as I do
+that there are colleges--I mention no names--where a
+born football player, such as either of you, would simply
+be lost; where he would be tied down by such stringent
+rules that he could never amount to anything on the gridiron.
+I don't mean to say that at Robinson the faculty is
+lax regarding standing or attendance at lectures, but I do
+say that it holds common-sense views on the subject of college
+athletics, and does not hound a man to death simply
+because he happens to belong to the football eleven or
+the crew.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Robinson is always on the lookout for first-class football,
+baseball, or rowing material, and she believes in
+offering encouragement to such material. She doesn't
+favor underhand methods, you understand; no hiring of
+players, no free scholarships--though there are plenty of
+them for those who will work for them--none of that sort
+of thing. But she is willing to meet you half-way. The
+proposition which I am authorized to make is briefly
+this&quot;--the speaker leaned forward, smiling frankly, and
+tapped a forefinger on the palm of his other hand--&quot;If
+you, Mr. Gale, and you, Mr. Fletcher, will enter Robinson
+next September, the--ah--the athletic authorities
+will guarantee you positions on the varsity eleven. Besides
+this, you will be given free tutoring for the entrance
+exams, and afterward, so long as you remain on the team,
+in any studies with which you may have difficulty. Now,
+there is a fair, honest proposition, and one which I sincerely
+trust you will accept. We want you both, and
+we're willing to do all that we can--in honesty, that is--to
+get you. Now, what do you say?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>During this recital Neil's dislike of the speaker had
+steadily increased, and now, under the other's smiling
+regard, he had difficulty in keeping from his face some
+show of his emotions. Paul looked up from his scarred
+knuckles and eyed Neil furtively before he turned to the
+coach.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Of course,&quot; he said, &quot;this is rather unexpected.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The coach's eyes flickered for an instant with amusement.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;For my part,&quot; Neil broke in almost angrily, &quot;I'm
+due in September at Erskine, and unless Paul's changed
+his mind since yesterday so's he.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The Robinson coach raised his eyebrows in simulated
+surprise.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah,&quot; he said slowly, &quot;Erskine?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, Erskine,&quot; answered Neil rather discourteously.
+A faint flush of displeasure crept into Mr. Brill's cheeks,
+but he smiled as pleasantly as ever.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And your friend has contemplated ruining his football
+career in the same manner, has he?&quot; he asked politely,
+turning his gaze as he spoke on Paul. The latter
+fidgeted in his chair and looked over a trifle defiantly at
+his room-mate.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I had thought of going to Erskine,&quot; he answered.
+&quot;In fact&quot;--observing Neil's wide-eyed surprise at his
+choice of words--&quot;in fact, I had arranged to do so. But--but,
+of course, nothing has been settled definitely.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But, Paul--&quot; exclaimed Neil.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, I'm glad to hear that,&quot; interrupted Mr. Brill.
+&quot;For in my opinion it would simply be a waste of your
+opportunities and--ah--abilities, Mr. Gale.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, of course, if a fellow doesn't have to bother
+too much about studies,&quot; said Paul haltingly, &quot;he can do
+better work on the team; there can't be any question
+about that, I guess.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;None at all,&quot; responded the coach.</p>
+
+<p>Neil stared at his chum indignantly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You're talking rot,&quot; he growled. Paul flushed and
+returned his look angrily.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I suppose I have the right to manage my own affairs?&quot;
+he demanded. Neil realized his mistake and, with
+an effort, held his peace. Mr. Brill turned to him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I fear there's no use in attempting to persuade you
+to come to us also?&quot; he said. Neil shook his head silently.
+Then, realizing that Paul was quite capable, in his present
+fit of stubbornness, of promising to enter Robinson if
+only to spite his room-mate, Neil used guile.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Anyhow, September's a long way off,&quot; he said, &quot;and
+I don't see that it's necessary to decide to-night. Perhaps
+we had both better take a day or two to think it over. I
+guess Mr. Brill won't insist on a final answer to-night.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The Robinson coach hesitated, but then answered
+readily enough:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Certainly not. Think it over; only, if possible, let
+me hear your decision to-morrow, as I am leaving town
+then.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, as far as I'm concerned,&quot; said Paul, &quot;I don't
+see any use in putting it off. I'm willing--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil jumped to his feet. A burst of martial music
+swept up to them as the school band, followed by a host
+of their fellows, turned the corner of the building.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come on, Paul,&quot; he cried; &quot;get your coat on. Mr.
+Brill will excuse us if we leave him; we mustn't keep the
+fellows waiting. And we can think the matter over, eh,
+Paul? And we'll let him know in the morning. Here's
+your coat. Good-night, sir, good-night.&quot; He was holding
+the door open and smiling politely. Paul, scowling, arose
+and shook hands with the Robinson emissary. Neil kept
+up a steady stream of talk, and his chum could only mutter
+vague words about his pleasure at Mr. Brill's call and
+about seeing him to-morrow. When the door had closed
+behind him the coach stood a moment in the hall and
+thoughtfully buttoned his coat.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think I've got Gale all right,&quot; he said to himself,
+&quot;but&quot;--with a slight smile--&quot;the other chap was too
+smart for me. And, confound him, he's just the sort we
+need!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>When he reached the entrance he was obliged to elbow
+his way through a solid throng of shouting youths
+who with excited faces and waving caps and flags informed
+the starlight winter sky over and over that they
+wanted Gale and Fletcher, to which demand the band
+lent hearty if rather discordant emphasis.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+
+<p>A good deal happened in the next two hours, but nothing
+that is pertinent to this narrative. Victorious Hillton
+elevens have been hauled through the village and out to
+the field many times in past years, and bonfires have flared
+and speeches have been made by players and faculty, and
+all very much as happened on this occasion. Neil and
+Paul returned to their room at ten o'clock, tired, happy,
+with the cheers and the songs still echoing in their ears.</p>
+
+<p>Paul had apparently forgotten his resentment toward
+Neil and the whole matter of Brill's proposition. But
+Neil hadn't, and presently, when they were preparing for
+bed, he returned doggedly to the charge.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;When did you meet that fellow Brill?&quot; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;In Gardiner's room this morning; he introduced us.&quot;
+Paul began to look sulky again. &quot;Seems a decent sort,
+I think,&quot; he added defiantly. Neil accepted the challenge.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I dare say,&quot; he answered carelessly. &quot;There's only
+one thing I've got against him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What's that?&quot; questioned Paul suspiciously.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;His errand.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What's wrong with his errand?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Everything, Paul. You know as well as I that his
+offer is--well, it's shady, to say the least. Who ever heard
+of a decent college offering free tutoring in order to get
+fellows for its football team?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Lots of them do,&quot; growled Paul.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, they don't; not decent ones. Some do, I know;
+but they're not colleges a fellow cares to go to. Every
+one knows what rotten shape Robinson athletics are in;
+the papers have been full of it for two years. Their
+center rush this fall, Harden, just went there to play on
+the team, and everybody says that he got his tuition
+free. You don't want to play on a team like that and
+have people say things like that about you. I'm sure I
+don't.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, you!&quot; sneered Paul. &quot;You're getting crankier
+and crankier every day. I'll bet you're just huffy because
+Brill didn't ask you first.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil flushed, but kept his temper.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You don't think anything of the sort, Paul. Besides--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It looks that way,&quot; muttered Paul.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Besides,&quot; continued Neil calmly, &quot;what's the advantage
+in going to Robinson? We've arranged everything;
+we've got our rooms picked out at Erskine; there
+are lots of fellows there we know; the college is the best
+of its class and its athletics are honest. If you play on
+the Erskine team you'll be somebody, and folks won't
+hint that you're receiving money or free scholarships or
+something for doing it. And as for Brill's guarantee of
+a place on the team, why, there's only one decent way
+to get on a football team, and that's by good, hard work;
+and there's no reason for doubting that you'll make the
+Erskine varsity eleven.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, there is, too,&quot; answered Paul angrily.
+&quot;They've got lots of good players at Erskine, and you
+and I won't stand any better show than a dozen others.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't want to.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Huh! Well, I do; that is, I want to make the team.
+Besides, as Brill said, if a fellow has the faculty after
+him all the time about studies he can't do decent work
+on the team. I don't see anything wrong in it, and--and
+I'm going. I'll tell Brill so to-morrow!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil drew his bath-robe about him, and looked
+thoughtfully into the flames. So far he had lost, but he
+had one more card to play. He turned and faced Paul's
+angry countenance.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, if I should go to Robinson and play on her
+team under the conditions offered by that--by Brill I'd
+feel disgraced.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You'd better stay away, then,&quot; answered Paul hotly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I wouldn't want to show my face around Hillton
+afterward, and if I met Gardiner or 'Wheels' I'd take
+the other side of the street.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, you would?&quot; cried his room-mate. &quot;You're
+trying to make yourself out a little fluffy angel, aren't
+you? And I suppose I'm not good enough to associate
+with you, am I? Well, if that's it, all I've got to
+say--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But,&quot; continued Neil equably, &quot;if you accept Brill's
+offer, so will I.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Paul paused open-mouthed and stared at his chum.
+Then his eyes dropped and he busied himself with a stubborn
+stocking. Finally, with a muttered &quot;Humph!&quot; he
+gathered up his clothing and disappeared into the bedroom.
+Neil turned and smiled at the flames and, finding
+his own apparel, followed. Nothing more was said. Paul
+splashed the water about even more than usual and tumbled
+silently into bed. Neil put out the study light and
+followed suit.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good-night,&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good-night,&quot; growled Paul.</p>
+
+<p>It had been a hard day and an exciting one, and Neil
+went to sleep almost as soon as his head touched the
+pillow. It seemed hours later, though in reality but some
+twenty minutes, that he was awakened by hearing his
+name called. He sat up quickly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hello! What?&quot; he shouted.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Shut up,&quot; answered Paul from across in the darkness.
+&quot;I didn't know you were asleep. I only wanted to
+say--to tell you--that--that I've decided not to go to
+Robinson!&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2>
+
+<h3>IN NEW QUARTERS</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>Almost every one has heard of Erskine College. For
+the benefit of the few who have not, and lest they confound
+it with Williams or Dartmouth or Bowdoin or some
+other of its New England neighbors, it may be well to
+tell something about it. Erskine College is still in its
+infancy, as New England universities go, with its centennial
+yet eight years distant. But it has its own share
+of historic associations, and although the big elm in the
+center of the campus was not planted until 1812 it has
+shaded many youths who in later years have by good
+deeds and great accomplishments endeared themselves to
+country and alma mater.</p>
+
+<p>In the middle of the last century, when Erskine was
+little more than an academy, it was often called &quot;the little
+green school at Centerport.&quot; It is not so little now,
+but it's greener than ever. Wide-spreading elms grow
+everywhere; in serried ranks within the college grounds,
+in smaller detachments throughout the village, in picket
+lines along the river and out into the country. The grass
+grows lush wherever it can gain hold, and, not content
+with having its own way on green and campus, is forever
+attempting the conquest of path and road. The
+warm red bricks of the college buildings are well-nigh
+hidden by ivy, which, too, is an ardent expansionist. And
+where neither grass nor ivy can subjugate, soft, velvety
+moss reigns humbly.</p>
+
+<p>In the year 1901, which is the period of this story, the
+enrolment in all departments at Erskine was close to
+six hundred students. The freshman class, as had been
+the case for many years past, was the largest in the history
+of the college. It numbered 180; but of this number
+we are at present chiefly interested in only two; and these
+two, at the moment when this chapter begins--which, to
+be exact, is eight o'clock of the evening of the twenty-fourth
+day of September in the year above mentioned--were
+busily at work in a first-floor study in the boarding-house
+of Mrs. Curtis on Elm Street.</p>
+
+<p>It were perhaps more truthful to say that one was
+busily at work and the other was busily advising and directing.
+Neil Fletcher stood on a small table, which
+swayed perilously from side to side at his every movement,
+and drove nails into an already much mutilated
+wall. Paul Gale sat in a hospitable armchair upholstered
+in a good imitation of green leather and nodded approval.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That'll do for 'Old Abe'; now hang The First Snow
+a bit to the left and underneath.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The First Snow hasn't any wire on it,&quot; complained
+Neil. &quot;See if you can't find some.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Wire's all gone,&quot; answered Paul. &quot;We'll have to
+get some more. Where's that list? Oh, here it is.
+'Item, picture wire.' I say, what in thunder's this you've
+got down--'Ring for waistband'?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Rug for wash-stand, you idiot! I guess we'll have to
+quit until we get some more wire, eh? Or we might hang
+a few of them with boot-laces and neckties?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, let's call it off. I'm tired,&quot; answered Paul with
+a grin. &quot;The room begins to look rather decent, doesn't
+it? We must change that couch, though; put it the other
+way so the ravelings won't show. And that picture
+of--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But just here Neil attempted to step from the table
+and landed in a heap on the floor, and Paul forgot criticism
+in joyful applause.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, noble work! Do it again, old man; I didn't see
+the take-off!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But Neil refused, and plumping himself into a wicker
+rocking-chair that creaked complainingly, rubbed the dust
+from his hands to his trousers and looked about the study
+approvingly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We're going to be jolly comfy here, Paul,&quot; he said.
+&quot;Mrs. Curtis is going to get a new globe for that fixture
+over there.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>[Illustration: Getting settled.]</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then we will be,&quot; said Paul. &quot;And if she would
+only find us a towel-rack that didn't fall into twelve separate
+pieces like a Chinese puzzle every time a chap put a
+towel on it we'd be simply reveling in luxury.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think I can fix that thing with string,&quot; answered
+Neil. &quot;Or we might buy one of those nickel-plated affairs
+that you screw into the wall.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The sort that always dump the towels on to the floor,
+you mean? Yes, we might. Of course, they're of no
+practical value judged as towel-racks, but they're terribly
+ornamental. You know we had one in the bath-room at
+the beach. Remember? When you got through your
+bath and groped round for the towel it was always lying
+on the floor just out of reach.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, I remember,&quot; answered Neil, smiling. &quot;We
+had rather a good time, didn't we, at Seabright? It was
+awfully nice of you to ask me down there, Paul; and
+your folks were mighty good to me. Next summer I
+want you to come up to New Hampshire and see us for
+a while. Of course, we can't give you sea bathing, and
+you won't look like a red Indian when you go home, but
+we could have a good time just the same.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Red Indian yourself!&quot; cried Paul. &quot;You're nearly
+twice as tanned as I am. I don't see how you did it. I
+was there pretty near all summer and you stayed just
+three weeks; and look at us! I'm as white as a sheet of
+paper--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, brown paper,&quot; interpolated Neil.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And you have a complexion like a--a football after
+a hard game.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil grinned, then--</p>
+
+<p>&quot;By the way,&quot; he said, &quot;did I tell you I'd heard from
+Crozier?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;About Billy and the ducks? And Gordon's not going
+back to Hillton? Yes, you got that at the beach; remember?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;So I did. 'Old Cro' will be up to his ears in trouble
+pretty soon, won't he? I'm glad they made him captain,
+awfully glad. I think he can turn out a team that'll rub
+it into St. Eustace again just as you did last year.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes; and Gardiner's going to coach again.&quot; Paul
+smiled reminiscently. Then, &quot;By Jove, it does seem
+funny not to be going back to old Hillton, doesn't it? I
+suppose after a while a fellow'll get to feeling at home
+here, but just at present--&quot; He sighed and shook his
+head.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Wait until college opens to-morrow and we get to
+work; we won't have much time to feel much of anything,
+I guess. Practise is called for four o'clock. I wonder--I
+wonder if we'll make the team?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why not?&quot; objected Paul. &quot;If I thought I wouldn't
+I think I'd pitch it all up and--and go to Robinson!&quot;
+He grinned across at his chum.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You stay here and you'll get a chance to go <i>at</i> Robinson;
+that's a heap more satisfactory.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, I'm going to make the varsity, Neil. I've
+set my heart on that, and what I make up my mind to
+do I sometimes most always generally do. I'm not
+troubling, my boy; I'll show them a few tricks about playing
+half-back that'll open their eyes. You wait and see!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil looked as though he was not quite certain as to
+that, but said nothing, and Paul went on:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I wonder what sort of a fellow this Devoe is?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, I've never seen him, but we know that he's
+about as good an end as there is in college to-day; and I
+guess he's bound to be the right sort or they wouldn't
+have made him captain.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He's a senior, isn't he?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes; he's played only two years, and they say he's
+going into the Yale Law School next year. If he does, of
+course he'll get on the team there. Well, I hope he'll
+take pity on two ambitious but unprotected freshmen
+and--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was a knock at the study door and Paul
+jumped forward and threw it open. A tall youth of
+twenty-one or twenty-two years of age stood in the doorway.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm looking for Mr. Gale and Mr. Fletcher. Have
+I hit it right?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm Gale,&quot; answered Paul, &quot;and that's Fletcher.
+Won't you come in?&quot; The visitor entered.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My name's Devoe,&quot; he explained smilingly. &quot;I'm
+captain of the football team this year, and as you two fellows
+are, of course, going to try for the team, I thought
+we'd better get acquainted.&quot; He accepted the squeaky
+rocking-chair and allowed Paul to take his straw hat.
+Neil thought he'd ought to shake hands, but as Devoe
+made no move in that direction he retired to another seat
+and grinned hospitably instead.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I've heard of the good work you chaps did for Hillton
+last year, and I was mighty glad when I learned from
+Gardiner that you were coming up here.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You know Gardiner?&quot; asked Neil.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, I've never met him, but of course every football
+man knows who he is. He wrote to me in the spring that
+you were coming, and rather intimated that if I knew
+my business I'd keep an eye on you and see that you
+didn't get lost in the shuffle. So here I am.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He didn't say anything about having written,&quot; pondered
+Neil.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, he wouldn't,&quot; answered Devoe. &quot;Well, how do
+you like us as far as you've seen us?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We only got here yesterday,&quot; replied Paul. &quot;I
+think it looks like rather a jolly sort of place; awfully
+pretty, you know, and--er--historic.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, it is pretty; historic too; and it's the finest
+young college in the country, bar none,&quot; answered Devoe.
+&quot;You'll like it when you get used to it. I like it
+so well I wish I wasn't going to leave it in the spring.
+Very cozy quarters you have here.&quot; He looked about
+the study.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They'll do,&quot; answered Neil modestly. &quot;Of course
+we couldn't get rooms in the Yard, and we liked this as
+well as anything we saw outside. The view's rather good
+from the windows.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, I know; you have the common and pretty much
+the whole college in sight; it is good.&quot; Devoe brought his
+gaze back and fixed it on Neil. &quot;You played left half,
+didn't you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What's your weight?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I haven't weighed this summer,&quot; answered Neil.
+&quot;In the spring I was a hundred and sixty-two.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good. We need some heavy backs. How about
+you, Gale?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;About a hundred and sixty.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Of course I haven't seen the new material yet,&quot; continued
+Devoe, &quot;but the last year's men we have are a
+bit light, take them all around. That's what beat us, you
+see; Robinson had an unusually heavy line and rather
+heavy backs. They plowed through us without trouble.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil studied the football captain with some interest.
+He saw a tall and fairly heavy youth, with well-set head
+and broad shoulders. He looked quite as fast on his feet
+as rumor credited him with being, and his dark eyes,
+sharp and steady in their regard, suggested both courage
+and ability to lead. His other features were strong, the
+nose a trifle heavy, the mouth usually unsmiling, the chin
+determined, and the forehead, set off by carefully brushed
+dark-brown hair, high and broad. After the first few
+moments of conversation Devoe devoted his attention
+principally to Neil, questioning him regarding Gardiner's
+coaching methods, about Neil's experience on the gridiron,
+as to what studies he was taking up. Occasionally
+he included Paul in the conversation, but that youth discovered,
+with surprise and chagrin, that he was apparently
+of much less interest to Devoe than was Neil. After
+a while he dropped out of the talk altogether, save when
+directly appealed to, and sat silent with an expression of
+elaborate unconcern. At the end of half an hour Devoe
+arose.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I must be getting on,&quot; he announced. &quot;I'm glad
+we've had this talk, and I hope you'll both come over
+some evening and call on me; I'm in Morris, No. 8.
+We've got our work cut out this fall, and I hope we'll
+all pull together.&quot; He smiled across at Paul, evidently
+unaware of having neglected that young gentleman in his
+conversation. &quot;Good-night. Four o'clock to-morrow is
+the hour.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I never met any one that could ask more questions
+than he can,&quot; exclaimed Neil when Devoe was safely out
+of hearing. &quot;But I suppose that's the way to learn, eh?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Paul yawned loudly and shrugged his shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Funny he should have come just when we were talking
+about him, wasn't it?&quot; Neil pursued. &quot;What do you
+think of him?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, if you ask me,&quot; Paul answered, &quot;I think he's
+a conceited, stuck-up prig!&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2>
+
+<h3>NEIL MAKES ACQUAINTANCES</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>Neil's and Paul's college life began early the next
+morning when, sitting side by side in the dim, hushed
+chapel, they heard white-haired Dr. Garrison ask for them
+divine aid and guidance. Splashes and flecks of purple
+and rose and golden light rested here and there on bowed
+head and shoulders or lay in shafts across the aisles.
+From where he sat Neil could look through an open window
+out into the morning world of greenery and sunlight.
+On the swaying branch of an elm that almost brushed the
+casement a thrush sang sweet and clear a matin of his
+own. Neil made several good resolutions that morning
+there in the chapel, some of which he profited by, all of
+which he sincerely meant. And even Paul, far less impressionable
+than his friend, looked uncommonly thoughtful
+all the way back to their room, a way that led through
+the elm-arched nave of College Place and across the common
+with its broad expanses of sun-flecked sward and its
+simple granite shaft commemorating the heroes of the
+civil war.</p>
+
+<p>At nine o'clock, with the sound of the pealing bell
+again in their ears, with their books under their arms and
+their hearts beating a little faster than usual with pleasurable
+excitement, they retraced their path and mounted
+the well-worn granite steps of College Hall for their first
+recitation. What with the novelty of it all the day passed
+quickly enough, and four o'clock found the two lads
+dressed in football togs and awaiting the beginning of
+practise.</p>
+
+<p>There were some sixty candidates in sight, boys--some
+of them men as far as years go--of all sizes and ages,
+several at the first glance revealing the hopelessness of
+their ambitions. The names were taken and fall practise
+at Erskine began.</p>
+
+<p>The candidates were placed on opposite sides of the
+gridiron, and half a dozen footballs were produced. Punting
+and catching punts was the order of the day, and Neil
+was soon busily at work. The afternoon was warm, but
+not uncomfortably so, the turf was springy underfoot, the
+sky was blue from edge to edge, the new men supplied
+plenty of amusement in their efforts, the pigskins bumped
+into his arms in the manner of old friends, and Neil was
+happy as a lark. After one catch for which he had to
+run back several yards, he let himself out and booted the
+leather with every ounce of strength. The ball sailed
+high in a long arching flight, and sent several men across
+the field scampering back into the grand stand for it.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I guess you've done that before,&quot; said a voice beside
+him. A short, stockily-built youth with a round, smiling
+face and blue eyes that twinkled with fun and good spirits
+was observing him shrewdly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; answered Neil, &quot;I have.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I thought so,&quot; was the reply. &quot;But you're a freshman,
+aren't you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; answered Neil, turning to let a low drive from
+across the gridiron settle into his arms. &quot;And I guess
+you're not.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, this is my third year. I've been on the team
+two.&quot; He paused to send a ball back, and then wiped the
+perspiration from his forehead. &quot;I was quarter last
+year.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh,&quot; said Neil, observing his neighbor with interest,
+&quot;then you're Foster?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's me. What are you trying for?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Half-back. I played three years at Hillton.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Of course; you're the fellow Bob Devoe was talking
+about--or one of them; I think he said there were two of
+you. Which one are you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm the other one,&quot; laughed Neil. &quot;I'm Fletcher.
+That's Gale over there, the fellow in the old red shirt;
+he was our captain at Hillton last year.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Foster looked across at Paul and then back at Neil.
+He was evidently comparing them. He shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It's a good thing he's got dark hair and you've got
+light,&quot; he said. &quot;Otherwise you wouldn't know yourselves
+apart; you're just of a height and build, and weight,
+too, I guess. Are you related?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No. But we are pretty much the same height and
+weight. He's half an inch taller, and I think I weigh two
+pounds more.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>In the intervals of catching and returning punts the
+acquaintance ripened. When, at the end of three-quarters
+of an hour, Devoe gave the order to quit and the
+trainer sent them twice about the gridiron on a trot, Neil
+found Foster ambling along beside him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Phew!&quot; exclaimed the latter. &quot;I guess I lived too
+high last summer and put on weight. This is taking it out
+of me finely; I can feel whole pounds melting off. It
+doesn't seem to bother you any,&quot; he added.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, I haven't much flesh about me,&quot; panted Neil;
+&quot;but I'm glad this is the last time around, just the same!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>After their baths in the little green-roofed locker-house
+the two walked back to the yard together, Paul,
+as Neil saw, being in close companionship with a big
+youth whose name, according to Foster, was Tom
+Cowan.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He played right-guard last year,&quot; said Foster.
+&quot;He's a soph; this is his third year.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Third year!&quot; exclaimed Neil. &quot;But how--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, Cowan was too busy to pass his exams last year,&quot;
+said Foster with a grin. &quot;So they let him stay a soph.
+He doesn't care; a little thing like that never bothers
+Cowan.&quot; His tone was rather contemptuous.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Is he liked?&quot; Neil asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, yes; he's very popular among a small and select
+circle of friends--a very small circle.&quot; Then he dismissed
+Cowan with an airy wave of one hand. &quot;By the
+way,&quot; he continued, &quot;have you any candidate for the
+presidency of your class?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No,&quot; Neil replied. &quot;I haven't heard anything about
+it yet.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good; then you can vote for 'Fan' Livingston.
+He's a <i>prot&eacute;g&eacute;</i> of mine, you see; used to know him at
+St. Mathias; you'll like him. He's an awfully good,
+manly, straightforward chap, just the fellow for the place.
+The election comes off next Thursday evening. How
+about your friend?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Gale? I don't think he has any one in view. I
+guess you can count on his vote, too.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thanks; just mention it to him, will you? I'm booming
+Livingston, and I want to see him win. Can't you
+come round some evening the first of the week? I'd like
+you to meet him. And meanwhile just talk him up a bit,
+will you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil promised and made an appointment to meet the
+candidate the following Saturday night at Foster's room
+in McLean Hall. The two parted at the gate, Foster
+going up to his room and Neil traversing the campus and
+the common to his own quarters. As he opened the study
+door he was surprised to hear voices within. Paul and his
+new acquaintance, Tom Cowan, were sitting side by side
+on the window-seat.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hello,&quot; greeted the former. &quot;How'd it go? Like
+old times, wasn't it? Neil, I want you to meet Mr. Cowan.
+Cowan has quarters up-stairs here. He's an old
+player, and we've been telling each other how good we
+are.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Cowan looked for an instant as though he didn't quite
+appreciate the latter remark, but summoned a smile as
+he shook hands with Neil and complimented him on his
+playing in Hillton's last game with St. Eustace. Neil replied
+with extraordinary politeness. He was always extraordinarily
+polite to persons he didn't fancy, and his
+dislike of Cowan was instant and hearty. Cowan looked
+to be fully twenty-three years old, and owned to being
+twenty-one. He was fully six feet two, and apparently
+weighed about two hundred pounds. His face was rather
+handsome in a coarse, heavy-featured style, and his hands,
+as Neil observed, were not quite clean. Later, Neil discovered
+that they never were.</p>
+
+<p>After listening politely for some moments to Cowan's
+tales of former football triumphs and defeats, in
+all of which the narrator played, according to his
+words, a prominent part, Neil broke into the stream
+of his eloquence and told Paul of his meeting with
+Foster, and of their talk regarding the freshman presidency.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well,&quot; answered Paul, smiling at Cowan, &quot;you'll
+have to get out of that promise to Foster or whatever his
+name is, because we've got a plan better than that. The
+fact is, Neil, I'm going to try for the presidency myself!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I suppose you're fooling?&quot; gasped Neil.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not a bit! Why shouldn't I have a fling at it?
+Cowan here has promised to help; in fact, it was he that
+suggested it. With his help and yours, and with the kind
+assistance of one or two fellows I know here, I dare say
+I can pull out on top. Anyhow, there's no harm in
+trying.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think you'll win,&quot; said Cowan. &quot;This chump Livingston
+that Foster is booming is a regular milksop; does
+nothing but grind, so they say; came out of St. Mathias
+with all kinds of silly prizes and such. What the fellows
+always want is a good, popular chap that goes in for athletics
+and that will make a name for himself.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Foster said Livingston was something of a dab at
+baseball,&quot; said Neil.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Baseball!&quot; cried Cowan. &quot;What's baseball? Why
+not puss-in-the-corner? A chap with a football reputation
+like Gale here can walk all round your baseball man.
+We'll carry it with a rush! You'll see! Freshmen are
+like a lot of sheep--show 'em the way and they'll fall
+over themselves to get there.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, we're freshmen ourselves, you know,&quot; said
+Neil sweetly. Cowan looked nonplussed for a moment.
+Then--</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, but you fellows are different; you've got sense.
+I was speaking of the general run of freshmen,&quot; he explained.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thanks,&quot; murmured Neil. Paul scented danger.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'll put the campaign in your hands and Cowan's,
+Neil,&quot; he said. &quot;You know several fellows here--there's
+Wallace and Knowles and Jones. They're not freshmen,
+but they can give you introductions. Knowles is a St.
+Agnes man and there are lots of St. Agnes fellows in our
+class.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think you're making a mistake,&quot; answered Neil
+soberly, &quot;and I wish you'd give it up. Livingston's got
+lots of supporters, and he's had his campaign under way
+for a week. If you're defeated I think it'll hurt you;
+fellows don't like defeated candidates when--when
+they're self-appointed candidates.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, of course, if you don't want to help,&quot; cried Paul,
+with a trace of anger in his voice, &quot;I guess we can get on
+without you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm sure you won't desert your chum, Fletcher,&quot; said
+Cowan. &quot;And I think you're all wrong about defeated
+candidates. If a fellow makes a good fight and is worsted
+no fellow that isn't a cad does other than honor him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, if you've made up your mind, Paul,&quot; answered
+Neil reluctantly, &quot;of course I'll do all I can if Foster will
+let me out of my promise to him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, hang Foster!&quot; cried Cowan. &quot;He's a little
+fool!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Is he?&quot; asked Neil innocently. &quot;I hadn't noticed
+it. Well, as I say, I'll do all I can. And I'll begin now
+by going over to see him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's the boy,&quot; said Paul. &quot;Tell Foster there's a
+dark horse in the field.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And tell him I say the dark horse will win,&quot; added
+Cowan.</p>
+
+<p>Neil smiled back politely from the doorway.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't think I'd better mention your name, Mr.
+Cowan.&quot; He closed the door behind him, leaving Cowan
+much puzzled as to the meaning of the last remark, and
+sought No. 12 McLean. He found the varsity quarter-back
+writing a letter by means of a small typewriter, his
+brow heavily creased with scowls and his feet kicking
+exasperatedly at the legs of his chair.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hello,&quot; was Foster's greeting. &quot;Come in. And, I
+say, just look around on the floor there, will you, and see
+if you can find an L.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Find what?&quot; asked Neil, searching the carpet with
+his gaze.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;An L. There was one on this pesky machine a while
+ago, but I--can't--find--Ah, here it is! 'L-O-V-I-N-G-L-Y,
+T-E-D'! There, that's done. I bought this
+idiotic thing because some one said you could write letters
+on it in half the time it takes with a pen. Well, I
+began this letter last night, and I guess I've spent fully
+two hours on it altogether. For two cents I'd pitch it
+out the window!&quot; He pushed back his chair and glared
+vindictively at the typewriter. &quot;And look at the result!&quot;
+He held up a sheet of paper half covered with strange
+characters and erasures. &quot;Look how I've spelled 'allowance'--alliwzee!
+Do you think dad will know what I
+mean?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil shook his head dubiously.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not unless he's looking for the word,&quot; he answered.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, he will be,&quot; grinned Foster. &quot;Don't suppose
+you want to buy a fine typewriter at half price, do you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil was sure he didn't and broached the subject of
+his call. Foster showed some amazement when he learned
+of Gale's candidacy, but at once absolved Neil from his
+promise.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Frankly, Fletcher, I don't think your friend has the
+ghost of a show, you know, but, of course, if he wants
+to try it it's all right. And I'm just as much obliged
+to you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>During the next week Neil worked early and late for
+Paul's success. He made some converts, but not enough
+to give him much hope. Livingston was easily the popular
+candidate for the presidency, and Neil failed to understand
+where Cowan found ground for the encouraging
+reports that he made to Paul. Paul himself was hopeful
+all the way through, and lent ill attention to Neil's predictions
+of failure.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You always were a raven, chum,&quot; he would exclaim.
+&quot;Wait until Thursday night.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And Neil, without much hope, waited.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2>
+
+<h3>AND SHOWS HIS METTLE</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>The freshman election took place in one of the lecture
+rooms of Grace Hall. There was a full attendance of the
+entering class, while the absence of sophomores was considered
+by those who had heard of former freshman elections
+at Erskine as something unnatural and of evil portent.</p>
+
+<p>Paul, robbed of the support of Tom Cowan's presence,
+was noticeably ill at ease, and for the first time appeared
+to be in doubt as to his election. Fanwell Livingston
+was put in nomination by one of his St. Mathias
+friends in a speech that secured wide applause, and the
+nomination was duly seconded by a red-headed and very
+eloquent youth who, so Neil learned, was King, the captain
+of the St. Mathias baseball team of the preceding
+spring.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Are there any more nominations?&quot; asked the chairman,
+a member of the junior class.</p>
+
+<p>South, a Hillton boy, arose and spoke at some length
+of the courage and ability for leadership of one of whom
+they had all heard; &quot;of one who on the white-grilled
+field of battle had successfully led the hosts of Hillton
+Academy against the St. Eustace hosts.&quot; (Two St. Eustace
+graduates howled derisively.) South ended in a wild
+burst of flowery eloquence and placed in nomination
+&quot;that triumphant football captain, that best of good fellows,
+Paul Dunlop Gale!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The applause which followed was flattering, though,
+had Paul but known it, it was rather for the speech than
+the nominee. And the effect was somewhat marred by
+several inquiries from different parts of the hall as to
+who in thunder Gale was. Neil secured recognition ere
+the applause had subsided, and seconded the nomination.
+He avoided rhetoric, and told his classmates in few words
+and simple phrases that Paul Gale possessed pluck, generalship,
+and executive ability; that he had proved this at
+Hillton, and, given the chance, would prove it again at
+Erskine.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Gale is a stranger to many of you fellows,&quot; he concluded,
+&quot;but, whether you make him class president or
+whether you give that honor to another, he won't be a
+stranger long. A fellow that can pilot a Hillton football
+team to victory against almost overwhelming odds and
+through the greatest of difficulties as Gale did last year
+is not the sort to sit around in corners and watch the
+procession go by. No, sir; keep your eye on him. I'll
+wager that before the year's out you'll be prouder of him
+than of any man in your class. And, meanwhile, if you're
+looking for the right man for the presidency, a man that'll
+lead 1905 to a renown beside which the other classes will
+look like so many battered golf-balls, why, I've told you
+where to look.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil sat down amid a veritable roar of applause, and
+Paul, totally unembarrassed by the praise and acclaim,
+smiled with satisfaction. &quot;That was all right, chum,&quot;
+he whispered. &quot;I guess we've got them on the run,
+eh?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But Neil shook his head doubtfully. Cries of &quot;Vote!
+Vote!&quot; arose, and in a moment or two the balloting began.
+While this was proceeding announcement was made
+that the annual Freshman Class Dinner would be held on
+the evening of the following Monday, October 7th.
+When the cheers occasioned by this information had subsided
+the chairman arose.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The result of the balloting, gentlemen,&quot; he announced,
+&quot;is as follows: Livingston, 97; Gale, 45. Mr.
+Livingston is elected by a majority of 52.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Shouts of &quot;Livingston! Livingston! Speech! Speech!&quot;
+filled the air, and were not stilled until some one arose
+and announced that the president-elect was not in the hall.
+Paul, after a glance of bewilderment at Neil, had sat
+silent in his chair with something between a sneer and
+a scowl on his face. Now he jumped up.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come on; let's get out of here,&quot; he muttered.
+&quot;They act like a lot of idiots.&quot; Neil followed, and they
+found themselves in a pushing throng at the door. The
+chairman was vainly clamoring for some one to put a
+motion to adjourn, but none heeded him. The crowd
+pushed and shoved, but made no progress.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Open that door,&quot; cried Paul.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Try it yourself,&quot; answered a voice up front. &quot;It's
+locked!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A murmur arose that quickly gave place to cries of
+wrath and indignation. &quot;The sophs did it!&quot; &quot;Where
+are they?&quot; &quot;Break the door down!&quot; Those at the rear
+heaved and pushed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Stop shoving, back there!&quot; yelled those in front.
+&quot;You're squashing us flat.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Everybody away from the door!&quot; shouted Neil.
+&quot;Let's see if we can't get it open.&quot; The fellows finally
+fell back to some extent, and Neil, Paul, and some of
+the others examined the lock. The key was still there,
+but, unfortunately, on the outside. Breaking the door
+down was utterly out of the question, since it was of solid
+oak and several inches thick. The self-appointed committee
+shook its several heads.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We'll have to yell for the janitor,&quot; said Neil.
+&quot;Where does he hang out?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But none knew. Neil went to one of the three windows
+and raised it. Instantly a chorus of derision floated
+up from below. Gathered almost under the windows was
+a throng of sophomores, their upturned faces just visible
+in the darkness.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;O Fresh! O Fresh!&quot; &quot;Want to come down?&quot;
+&quot;Why don't you jump?&quot; These gibes were followed by
+cheers for &quot;'04&quot; and loud groans. Neil turned and faced
+his angry classmates.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Look here, fellows,&quot; he said, &quot;we don't want to have
+to yell for the janitor with those sophs there; that's too
+babyish. The key's in the outside of the lock. I think
+I can get down all right by the ivy, and I'll unlock the
+door if those sophs will let me. If two or three of you
+will follow I guess we can do it all right.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Bully for you!&quot; &quot;Plucky boy!&quot; cried the audience.
+But for a moment none came forward to share
+the risk. Then Paul pushed his way to the window.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Here, I'll go with you, chum,&quot; he said, with a suggestion
+of swagger. &quot;We can manage those dubs down
+there alone. The rest of you can sit down and tell stories;
+we'll let you out in a minute,&quot; he added scathingly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's Gale,&quot; whispered some one. &quot;Fresh kid!&quot;,
+added another angrily. But the gibe had the desired
+effect. Four other freshmen signified their willingness to
+die for their class, and Neil climbed on to the broad window-sill.
+His reappearance was the signal for another
+outburst from the watching sophomores.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't jump, sonny; you may hurt yourself.&quot;
+&quot;He's going to fly, fellows! Good little Freshie's got
+wings!&quot; &quot;Say, we'll let you out in the morning! Good-night!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But when Neil, divesting himself of coat and shoes,
+swung out and laid hold of the largest of the big ivy
+branches that clung there to the wall, the jeers died away.
+The hall where the meeting had been held was on the
+third floor, and when Neil stepped from the window-sill
+he hung fully twenty-five feet from the ground. The ivy
+branch, ages old, was almost as large as his wrist, and
+quite strong enough to bear his weight just as long as it
+did not tear from its fastenings. Whether it would hold
+in place remained to be seen. Neil judged that if he
+could lower himself fifteen feet by its aid he could easily
+drop the rest of the distance without injury. The window
+above was black with watchers as he began his journey,
+and many voices cheered him on. Paul, his feet hanging
+over the black void, sat on the narrow ledge and waited
+his turn.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Go fast, chum,&quot; he counseled, &quot;but don't lose your
+grip. I'll wait until you're down.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;All right,&quot; answered Neil. Then, with a great rustling
+of the thick-growing leaves, he lowered himself by
+arm's lengths. The vine swayed and gave at every strain,
+but held. From below came the sound of clapping. Hand
+under hand he went. The oblong of faint light above receded
+fast. His stockinged feet gripped the vine tightly.
+In the group of sophomores the clapping grew into cheers.</p>
+
+<br>
+<a name="illus-052.jpg"></a>
+<p class="ctr"><a href="images/illus-052.jpg">
+<img src="images/illus-052.jpg" width="50%" alt=""></a><br>
+<b>The vine swayed at every strain.</b></p>
+<br>
+
+<p>&quot;Good work, Freshie!&quot; &quot;You're all right!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then, with the ground almost at his feet, Neil let go
+and dropped lightly into a bed of shrubbery. The fellows
+above applauded wildly. With a glance at the near-by
+group of sophomores, Neil ran. Several of the enemy
+started to intercept him, but were called back.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Let him go! He's all right! We've had our fun!&quot;
+And Neil sprang up the steps and into the building without
+molestation. Meanwhile Paul was making his descent
+and receiving his meed of applause from friend and foe.
+And as he dropped to earth there came a sound of cheering
+from the building, and the freshmen, released by the
+unlocking of the door, emerged on to the steps and path.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Five this way!&quot; was the cry. &quot;Rush the sophs!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But wiser counsels prevailed and, each cheering loudly,
+the representatives of the rival classes took themselves
+off.</p>
+
+<p>Neil and Paul were the last to leave the building,
+since they had been obliged to return to the room for
+their shoes and coats. Paul had forgotten some of his
+disappointment during the later proceedings, and appeared
+very well satisfied with himself.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We showed them what Hillton chaps can do, chum,&quot;
+he said. &quot;And I'll bet they'll regret electing that fellow
+Livingston before I'm through with them! Much I care
+about their old presidency! They're a pack of silly little
+kids, any way. Let's go to bed.&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2>
+
+<h3>MILLS, HEAD COACH</h3>
+
+<h3>&quot;TO THE IN-FANTS OF 1905:</h3>
+
+<h3>&quot;GREETING!</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>&quot;The class of 1904, an-i-mat-ed by the kind-li-est
+of sen-ti-ments, has, at an ex-pen-se of much time and
+thought, form-u-lat-ed the fol-low-ing RULES for the
+guid-ance of your todd-ling foot-steps at this the out-set
+of your col-lege car-eers. A strict ad-her-ence to these
+PRE-CEPTS will in-sure to you the ad-mi-ra-tion of your
+fond par-ents, the re-spect of your friends, and the love
+of the SOPH-O-MORE CLASS, which, in the ab-sence of
+rel-at-ives, will, with thought-ful, tender care, stand ever
+by to guard you from the world's hard knocks.</p>
+<br>
+
+<p>&quot;ATTEND, INFANTS!</p>
+
+<p>&quot;1. R-spect for eld-ers and those in auth-or-ity is
+one of child-hood's most charm-ing traits. There-for
+take off your hat to all SOPH-O-MORES, and when in
+their pres-ence al-ways main-tain a def-er-en-tial sil-ence.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;2. Tall hats and canes as art-i-cles of child-ren's attire
+are ex-treme-ly un-be-com-ing, and are there-for
+strict-ly pro-hib-it-ed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;3. Smok-ing, either of pipes, cig-ars, or cig-ar-ettes,
+stunts the growth and re-tards the dev-el-op-ment of in-tel-lect.
+Child-ren, be-ware!</p>
+
+<p>&quot;4. A suf-fic-ien-cy of sleep and plain, whole-some
+fare are strong-ly re-com-mend-ed.</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+&quot;Early to bed and early to rise<br>
+ Makes little Freshie healthy and wise.<br>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>&quot;Avoid late hours and rich food, es-pec-ial-ly fudge.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;5. That you may not be tempt-ed to trans-gress the
+pre-ceed-ing rule, it has been thought best to pro-hib-it the
+Freshman Din-ner, which in pre-vi-ous years has ruin-ed so
+many young lives. The hab-it of hold-ing these din-ners
+is a per-nic-ious one and must be stamp-ed out. To this
+end the CLASS OF 1904 will ex-ert its strong-est ef-forts,
+and you are here-by warn-ed that any at-tempt to re-vive
+this lam-ent-able cust-om will bring down up-on you severe
+chast-ise-ment.</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+&quot;We must be cruel only to be kind;<br>
+ Pause and reflect, who would be dined.<br>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>&quot;Heed and prof-it by these PRE-CEPTS, dear child-ren,
+that you may grow up to be great and noble men like
+those who sub-scribe them-selves,</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Pa-ter-nal-ly yours,</p>
+
+<p>&quot;THE CLASS OF 1904.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are ad-ver-tis-ed by your lov-ing friends.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>This startling information, printed in sophomore red
+on big white placards, flamed from every available space
+in and about the campus the next morning. The nocturnal
+bill-posters had shown themselves no respecters of
+places, for the placards adorned not fences and walls
+alone, but were pasted on the granite steps of each recitation
+hall. All the forenoon groups of staid seniors, grinning
+juniors and sophomores, or vexed freshmen stood in
+front of the placards and read the inscriptions with varied
+emotions. But in the afternoon a cheering mob of the
+&quot;infants&quot; marched through the college and town and
+tore down or effaced every poster they could find. But
+they didn't get as far from the campus as the athletic
+field, and so it was not until Neil and Paul and one or two
+other freshmen reported for practise at four o'clock that
+it was discovered that the high board fence surrounding
+the field was a mass of the objectionable signs from end
+to end.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, let them stay,&quot; said Neil. &quot;I think they're
+rather funny myself. And as for their stopping the freshman
+dinner, why we'll wait and see. If they try it we'll
+have our chance to get back at them.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;R-r-revenge!&quot; muttered South, who, with a lacrosse
+stick over his shoulder and an attire consisting wholly of a
+pair of flapping white trunks, a faded green shirt, and a
+pair of canvas shoes, had come out to join the lacrosse
+candidates.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;King suggested our getting some small posters
+printed in blue with just the figures ''05' on them, and
+pasting one on every soph's window,&quot; said Paul, &quot;but
+Livingston wouldn't hear of it. I think it would be a good
+game, eh?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Faculty'd kick up no end of a rumpus,&quot; said
+South.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I haven't heard that they are doing much about
+these things,&quot; answered Paul. &quot;If the sophs can stick
+things around why can't we?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You'd better ask the Dean,&quot; suggested Neil. &quot;Hello,
+who's that chap?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>They had entered the grounds and were standing on
+the steps of the locker-house. The person to whom Neil
+referred was just coming through the gate. He was a
+medium-sized man of about thirty years, with a good-looking,
+albeit very freckled face, and a good deal of
+sandy hair. The afternoon was quite warm, and he carried
+his straw hat in one very brown hand, while over his
+arm lay a sweater of Erskine purple, a pair of canvas
+trousers, and two worn shoes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Blessed if I know who he is!&quot; murmured South.
+They watched the newcomer as he traversed the path and
+reached the steps. As he passed them and entered the
+building he looked them over keenly with a pair of very
+sharp and very light blue eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Wow!&quot; muttered Paul. &quot;He looked as though he
+was trying to decide whether I would taste better fried
+or baked.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I wonder--&quot; began Neil. But at that moment
+Tom Cowan came up and Paul put the question to him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The fellow that just came in?&quot; repeated Cowan.
+&quot;That, my boy, is a gentleman who will have you standing
+on your head in just about twenty minutes. Some
+eight or ten years ago he was popularly known hereabouts
+as 'Whitey' Mills. To-day, if you know your business,
+you'll address him as <i>Mister</i> Mills.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh,&quot; said Neil, &quot;he's the head coach, is he?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He is, my young friend. And as he used to be one
+of the finest half-backs in the country, I guess you'll see
+something of him before you make the team. I dare say
+he can teach even you something about playing your position.&quot;
+Cowan grinned and passed on.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, go to thunder!&quot; muttered Neil, following him
+into the building.</p>
+
+<p>He found Mills being introduced by Devoe to such of
+the new candidates as were on hand.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You remember Cowan, I guess,&quot; Devoe was saying.
+&quot;He played right-guard last year.&quot; Mills and Cowan
+shook hands. &quot;And this is Fletcher, a new man,&quot; continued
+the captain, &quot;and Gale, too; they're both Hillton
+fellows and played at half. It was Fletcher that made
+that fine run in the St. Eustace game. Gale was the captain
+last year.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mills shook hands with each, but beyond a short nod
+of his head and a brief &quot;Glad to meet you,&quot; displayed no
+knowledge of their fame.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Grouchy chap,&quot; commented Paul when, the coach
+out of hearing, they were changing their clothes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, he doesn't hurt himself talking,&quot; answered
+Neil. &quot;But he looks as though he knew his business. His
+eyes are like little blue-steel gimlets.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Doesn't look much for strength, though,&quot; said Paul.</p>
+
+<p>But when, a few minutes later, Mills appeared on the
+gridiron in football togs, Paul was forced to alter his
+opinion. Chest, arms, and legs were a mass of muscle,
+and the head coach looked as though he could render a
+good account of himself against the stiffest line that could
+be put together.</p>
+
+<p>The practise began with ten minutes of falling on the
+ball. The candidates were lined out in two strings across
+the field, the old men in one, the new material in another.
+Neil and Paul were among the latter, and Mills held their
+ball. Standing at the right end of the line, he rolled the
+pigskin in front of and slightly away from the line, and
+one after another the men leaped forward and flung themselves
+upon it, missing it at first as often as not, and rolling
+about on the turf as though suddenly seized with fits.
+Neil rather prided himself on his ability to fall on the
+ball, and went at it like an old stager, or so he thought.
+But if he expected commendation he found none. When
+the last man had rolled around after the elusive pigskin,
+Mills went to the other end of the line and did it all over
+again.</p>
+
+<p>When it came Neil's turn he plunged out, found the
+ball nicely, and snuggled it against his breast. To his surprise
+when he arose Mills left his place and walked out
+to him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Let's try that again,&quot; he said. Neil tossed him the
+ball and went back to his place. Mills nodded to him and
+rolled the pigskin toward him. Neil dropped on his hip,
+securing the ball under his right arm. Like a flash Mills
+was over him, and with a quick blow of his hand had sent
+the leather bobbing across the turf yards away.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;When you get it, hold on to it,&quot; he said dryly. Neil
+arose with reddening cheeks and, amid the smiles of the
+others, went back to his place trying to decide whether,
+if he could have his way, the coach should perish by boiling
+oil or by merely being drawn and quartered. But
+after that it was a noticeable fact that the men clung to
+the ball when they got it as though it were a dearly loved
+friend.</p>
+
+<p>Later, passing down the line in front from end to end,
+the head coach threw the ball swiftly at the feet of one
+after another of the candidates, and each was obliged to
+drop where he stood and have the ball in his arms when
+he landed. When Mills came to Neil the latter was still
+nursing his resentment, and his cheeks still proclaimed
+that fact. After the boy had dropped on the ball and
+had tossed it back to the coach their eyes met. In the
+coach's was just the merest twinkle, a very ghost of a
+smile; but Neil saw it, and it said to him as plainly as
+words could have said, &quot;I know just how you feel, my
+boy, but you'll get over it after a while.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The coach passed on and the flush faded from Neil's
+cheeks; he even smiled a little. It was all right; Mills
+understood. It was almost as though they shared a secret
+between them. Alfred Mills, head football coach at
+Erskine College, had no more devoted admirer and partizan
+from that moment than Neil Fletcher, '05.</p>
+
+<p>Next the men were spread out until there was a little
+space between each, and the coach passed behind the line
+and shot the ball through, and they had an opportunity to
+see what they could do with a pigskin that sped away
+ahead of them. By careful management it is possible in
+falling on a football to bring almost every portion of the
+anatomy in violent contact with the ground, and this fact
+was forcibly brought home to Neil, Paul, and all the
+others by the time the work was at an end.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I've got bones I never knew the existence of before,&quot;
+mourned Neil.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Me too,&quot; growled Paul. &quot;And half a dozen of my
+front teeth are aching from trying to bite holes in the
+ground; I think they're all loose. If they come out I'll
+send the dentist's bill to the management.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A few minutes later Neil found himself at left half
+in one of the six squads of eleven men each that practised
+advancing the ball. They lined up in ordinary formation,
+and the ball was passed to one back after another for end
+runs. Mills went from squad to squad, criticizing briefly
+and succinctly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't wait for the quarter to pass,&quot; he told Paul,
+who was playing beside Neil. &quot;On your toes and run
+hard. Have confidence in your quarter. If the ball isn't
+ready for you it's not your fault. Try that again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And when Paul and Neil and the full-back had
+plowed round the left end once more--</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Quarter, don't hold that ball as though your hand
+was frozen; keep your hand limber and see that you get
+the belly of the ball in it, not one end; then it won't tilt
+itself out. When you get the ball from center rise quickly,
+put your back against guard, and throw your weight
+there. And it's just as necessary for you to have confidence
+in the runner as it is for him to have faith in you.
+Don't fear that you'll be too quick for him; don't doubt
+but that he'll be there at the right instant. Keep that in
+mind and you'll soon have things going like clock-work.
+Now once more; ball to left half for a run around right
+end.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>When practise was over that day the new candidates
+were unanimous in the opinion that they had learned
+more that afternoon under Mills than they had learned
+during the whole previous week. Neil, Paul, and Cowan
+walked back to college together.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, he's a great little coach,&quot; said Cowan, &quot;and a
+nice chap when you get to know him; no frills on him,
+you know. And he's plumb full of pluck. They say that
+once when he played here at half-back he got the ball on
+Robinson's forty yards and walked down the field and
+over the line for a touch-down with half the Robinson
+team hanging on to his legs, and said afterward that he
+thought he <i>had</i> felt some one tugging at him!&quot; Neil
+laughed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But he doesn't look so awfully strong,&quot; he objected.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, I guess he was in better trim then,&quot; answered
+Cowan. &quot;Besides, he's built well, you see--most of his
+weight below his waist; when a chap's that way it's hard
+to pull him over. I remember last year in the game with
+Erstham I got through their tackle on a guard-back play,
+and--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But Neil had already heard that story of heroic deeds,
+and so lent a deaf ear to Cowan's boasting. When they
+reached Main Street a window full of the first issue of the
+college weekly, The Erskine Purple, met their sight, and
+they went in and bought copies. On the steps of the laboratory
+building they opened the inky-smelling journals
+and glanced through them.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Here's an account of last night's election,&quot; said
+Cowan. &quot;That's quick work, isn't it? And you can read
+all about Livingston's brilliant career, Gale. By the way,
+have you met him yet?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Paul shook his head. &quot;No, and I'm bearing up under
+it as well as can be expected.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You're not missing much,&quot; said Cowan. &quot;Hello,
+here's the football schedule! Want to hear it?&quot; Paul
+said he did, Neil muttered something unintelligible, and
+Cowan read as follows:</p>
+
+<br>
+<center>
+&quot;E.C.F.B.A.<br>
+<br>
+&quot;SCHEDULE OF GAMES<br>
+<br>
+<table summary="">
+<tr>
+<td align="right">&quot;Oct.</td>
+<td align="right">12.</td>
+<td>Woodby at Centerport.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="center">&quot;</td>
+<td align="right">16.</td>
+<td>Dexter at Centerport.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="center">&quot;</td>
+<td align="right">23.</td>
+<td>Harvard at Cambridge.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="center">&quot;</td>
+<td align="right">26.</td>
+<td>Erstham at Centerport.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="right">Nov.</td>
+<td align="right">2.</td>
+<td>State University at Centerport.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="center">&quot;</td>
+<td align="right">6.</td>
+<td>Arrowden at Centerport.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="center">&quot;</td>
+<td align="right">9.</td>
+<td>Yale at New Haven.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="center">&quot;</td>
+<td align="right">16.</td>
+<td>Artmouth at Centerport.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="center">&quot;</td>
+<td align="right">23.</td>
+<td>Robinson at Centerport.&quot;</td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+</center>
+<br>
+
+<p>&quot;By Jove!&quot; said Cowan. &quot;We've got seven home
+games this year! That's fine, isn't it? But I'll bet
+we'll find Woodby a tough proposition on the 12th.
+Last year we played her about the 1st of November,
+and she didn't do a thing to us. And look at the
+game they've got scheduled for a week before the
+Robinson game! That'll wear us out; Artmouth will
+put just about half of our men on the sick-list.
+And--Hello!&quot; he said, dropping his voice; &quot;talk of an
+angel!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A youth of apparently nineteen years was approaching
+them. He was of moderate height, rather slimly built,
+with dark eyes and hair, and clean-cut features. He
+swung a note-book in one hand, and was evidently in deep
+thought, for he failed to see the group on the steps, and
+would have passed without speaking had not Cowan called
+to him. Housed from his reverie, Fanwell Livingston
+glanced up, and, after nodding to Cowan and Neil, turned
+in at the gate.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I suppose you want congratulations,&quot; said Cowan.
+&quot;Well, you can have mine.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And mine,&quot; added Neil. &quot;And Gale here will extend
+his as soon as he's properly introduced. Mr. Gale--Mr.
+Livingston.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Victory--Defeat,&quot; added Cowan with a grin. The
+two candidates for the freshman presidency shook hands,
+Paul without enthusiasm, Livingston heartily.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Congratulations, of course,&quot; murmured the former.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thank you,&quot; answered the president. &quot;You're very
+generous. After all, I dare say you've got the best of it,
+for you'll have the satisfaction of knowing that if the
+fellows had chosen you you would have done much better
+than I shall. However, I hope we'll be friends, Mr.
+Gale.&quot; Livingston's smile was undeniably winning, and
+Paul was forced to return it.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You're very good,&quot; he answered quite affably. &quot;I
+hope we will.&quot; Livingston nodded, smiled again, and
+turned to Cowan.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, they tell me you fellows are in for desperate
+deeds this year,&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How's that?&quot; asked Cowan.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Aren't you in on the sophomore councils? Why, I'm
+told that if the freshmen don't give up the dinner plan
+I'm to be kidnaped.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How'd you hear--&quot; began Cowan. Then he paused
+with some confusion. &quot;Who told you that rot?&quot; he asked
+with a laugh.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, it came in a roundabout way,&quot; answered Livingston.
+&quot;I dare say it's just talk.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Some freshman nonsense,&quot; said Cowan. &quot;I guess
+we'll do our best to keep you fellows from eating too
+much, but--&quot; He shrugged his big shoulders. Livingston,
+observing him shrewdly, began for the first time
+since intelligence of the supposed project had reached him
+to give credence to it. But he laughed carelessly as he
+turned away.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, well, we have to keep you fellows amused, of
+course, and if you like to try kidnaping you may.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I wish the sophs would try it,&quot; said Neil warmly.
+Cowan turned to him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, if they did--<i>if</i> they did--I guess they'd
+succeed,&quot; he drawled.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, if they do--<i>if</i> they do,&quot; answered Neil, &quot;I'll
+bet they won't succeed.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You'd stop us, perhaps?&quot; sneered Cowan.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Easily,&quot; answered Neil, smiling sweetly; &quot;there are
+only a hundred or so of you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There's no one like a week-old freshman for self-importance,&quot;
+Cowan said, laughing in order to hide his vexation.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Unless it's a third-year sophomore,&quot; Neil retorted.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, well,&quot; Paul interposed, &quot;it's all poppycock, anyhow.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's all,&quot; said Livingston.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Of course,&quot; agreed Cowan.</p>
+
+<p>Neil was silent.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2>
+
+<h3>THE GENTLE ART OF HANDLING PUNTS</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>Life now was filled with hard work for both Neil and
+Paul. Much of the novelty that had at first invested
+study with an exhilarating interest had worn off, and they
+had settled down to the daily routine of lectures and recitations
+just as though they had been Erskine undergrads
+for years instead of a week. The study and the adjoining
+bed-room were at last furnished to suit; The First Snow
+was hung, the &quot;rug for the wash-stand&quot; was in place, and
+the objectionable towel-rack had given way to a smaller
+but less erratic affair.</p>
+
+<p>Every afternoon saw the two boys on Erskine Field.
+Mills was a hard taskmaster, but one that inspired the
+utmost confidence, and as a result of some ten days' teaching
+the half hundred candidates who had survived the first
+weeding-out process were well along in the art of football.
+The new men were coached daily in the rudiments; were
+taught to punt and catch, to fall on the ball, to pass without
+fumbling, to start quickly, and to run hard. Exercise
+in the gymnasium still went on, but the original twenty-minute
+period had gradually diminished to ten. Neil and
+Paul, with certain other candidates for the back-field, were
+daily instructed in catching punts and forming interference.
+Every afternoon the practise was watched by a
+throng of students who were quick to applaud good work,
+and whose presence was a constant incentive to the players.
+There was a strong sentiment throughout the college
+in favor of leaving nothing undone that might secure a
+victory over Robinson. The defeat of the previous year
+rankled, and Erskine was grimly determined to square
+accounts with her lifelong rival. As one important means
+to this end the college was searched through and through
+for heavy material, for Robinson always turned out teams
+that, whatever might be their playing power, were beef
+and brawn from left end to right. And so at Erskine men
+who didn't know a football from a goal-post were hauled
+from studious retirement simply because they had weight
+and promised strength, and were duly tried and, usually,
+found wanting. One lucky find, however, rewarded
+the search, a two-hundred-pound sophomore named
+Browning, who, handicapped at the start with a colossal
+ignorance regarding all things pertaining to the gridiron,
+learned with wonderful rapidity, and gave every promise
+of turning himself into a phenomenal guard or tackle.</p>
+
+<p>On the 5th of October a varsity and a second squad
+were formed, and Neil and Paul found themselves at
+left and right half respectively on the latter. Cowan
+was back at right-guard on the varsity, a position which
+he had played satisfactorily the year before. Neil had
+already made the discovery that he had, despite his Hillton
+experience, not a little to learn, and he set about
+learning it eagerly. Paul made the same discovery, but,
+unfortunately for himself, the discovery wounded his
+pride, and he accepted the criticisms of coach and captain
+with rather ill grace.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That dub Devoe makes me very weary,&quot; he confided
+to Neil one afternoon. &quot;He thinks he knows it all and
+no one else has any sense.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He doesn't strike me that way,&quot; answered his chum.
+&quot;And I think he does know a good deal of football.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You always stick up for him,&quot; growled Paul. &quot;And
+for Mills, too--white-haired, freckle-faced chump!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't be an idiot,&quot; said Neil. &quot;One's captain and
+t'other is coach, and they're going to rub it into us whenever
+they please, and the best thing for us to do is to take
+it and look cheerful.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's it; we <i>have</i> to take it,&quot; Paul objected. &quot;They
+can put us on the bench if they want to and keep us there
+all the season; I know that. But, just the same, I don't
+intend to lick Devoe's boots or rub my head in the dirt
+whenever Mills looks at me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, it looks to me as though you'd been rubbing
+your head in the dirt already,&quot; laughed Neil.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Connor stepped on me there,&quot; muttered Paul, wiping
+a clump of mud from his forehead. &quot;Come on; Mills
+is yelling for us. More catching punts, I suppose.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And his supposition was correct. Across the width of
+the sunlit field Graham, the two-hundred-and-thirty-pound
+center rush, stooped over the pigskin. Beside him were
+two pairs of end rushes, and behind him, with outstretched
+hands, stood Ted Foster. Foster gave a signal, the ball
+went back to him on a long pass, and he sent it over the
+gridiron toward where Neil, Paul, and two other backs
+were waiting. The ends came down under the kick, the
+ball thumped into Paul's hands, Neil and another formed
+speedy interference, and the three were well off before
+the ends, like miniature cyclones, were upon them and had
+dragged Paul to earth.</p>
+
+<p>The head coach, a short but sturdy figure in worn-out
+trousers and faded purple shirt, stood on the edge of the
+cinder track and viewed the work with critical eye.
+When the ends had trotted back over the field with the
+ball to repeat the proceeding, he made himself heard:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Spread out more, fellows, and don't all stand in a
+line across the field. You've got to learn now to judge
+kicks; you can't expect to always find yourself just under
+them. Fletcher, as soon as you've decided who is to take
+the ball yell out. Then play to the runner; every other
+man form into interference and get him up the field.
+Now then! Play quick!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The ball was in flight again, and once more the ends
+were speeding across under it. &quot;Mine!&quot; cried Neil.
+Then the leather was against his breast and he was dodging
+forward, Paul ahead of him to bowl over opposing
+players, and Pearse, a full-back candidate, plunging along
+beside. One--two--three of the ends were passed, and
+the ball had been run back ten yards. Then Stone, last
+year's varsity left end, fooled Paul, and getting inside
+him, nailed Neil by the hips.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well tackled, Stone,&quot; called Mills. &quot;Gale, you were
+asleep, man; Stone ought never to have got through there.
+Fletcher, you're going to lose the ball some time when
+you need it badly if you don't catch better than that.
+Never reach up for it; remember that your opponent
+can't tackle you until you've touched it; wait until it
+hits against your stomach, and then grip it hard. If you
+take it in the air it's an easy stunt for an opponent to
+knock it out of your hands; but if you've got it hugged
+against your body it won't matter how hard you're
+thrown, the ball's yours for keeps. Bear that in
+mind.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>On the next kick Neil called to Gale to take the pigskin.
+Paul misjudged it, and was forced to turn and run
+back. He missed the catch, a difficult one under the
+circumstances, and also missed the rebound. By this time
+the opposing ends were down on him. The ball trickled
+across the running track, and Paul stooped to pick it up.
+But Stone was ahead of him, and seizing the pigskin, was
+off for what would have been a touch-down had it been
+in a game.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What's the matter, Gale?&quot; cried Mills angrily.
+&quot;Why didn't you fall on that ball?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It was on the cinders,&quot; answered Paul, in evident
+surprise. Mills made a motion of disgust, of tragic impatience.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't care,&quot; he cried, &quot;if it was on broken glass!
+You've got orders to fall on the ball. Now bring it over
+here, put it down and--<i>fall</i>--<i>on</i>--<i>it</i>!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil watched his chum apprehensively. Knowing
+well Paul's impatience under discipline, he feared that the
+latter would give way to anger and mutiny on the spot.
+But Paul did as directed, though with bad grace, and contented
+himself with muttered words as he threw the pigskin
+to a waiting end and went back to his place.</p>
+
+<p>Soon afterward they were called away for a ten-minute
+line-up. Paul, still smarting under what in his
+own mind he termed a cruel indignity, played poorly, and
+ere the ten minutes was half up was relegated to the
+benches, his place at right half being taken by Kirk. The
+second managed to hold the varsity down to one score
+that day, and might have taken the ball over itself had
+not Pearse fumbled on the varsity's three yards. As it
+was, they were given a hearty cheer by the watchers when
+time was called, and they trotted to the bucket to be
+sponged off. Then those who had not already been in
+the line-up were given the gridiron, and the varsity and
+second were sent for a trot four times around the field, the
+watchful eye of &quot;Baldy&quot; Simson, Erskine's veteran
+trainer, keeping them under surveillance until they had
+completed their task and had trailed out the gate toward
+the locker-house, baths, and rub-downs.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2>
+
+<h3>THE KIDNAPING</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>Fanwell Livingston was curled in the window-seat in
+his front room, his book close to the bleared pane, striving
+to find light enough by which to study. Outside it was
+raining in a weary, desultory way, and the heavens were
+leaden-hued. Livingston's quarters were on the front of
+that big lemon-yellow house at the corner of Oak and
+King Streets, about equidistant from campus and field.
+The outlook to-day was far from inspiriting. When he
+raised his eyes from the pages before him he saw an empty
+road running with water; beyond that a bare, weed-grown,
+sodden field that stretched westward to the unattractive
+backs of the one-and two-storied shops on Main
+Street. Livingston's room wasn't in any sense central, but
+he liked it because it was quiet, because aside from the
+family he had the house to himself, and because Mrs.
+Saunders, his landlady, was goodness itself and administered
+to his comfort almost as his own mother would
+have done.</p>
+
+<p>The freshman president laid aside his book, grimaced
+at the dreary prospect, and took out his watch. &quot;Ten
+minutes after five,&quot; he murmured. &quot;Heavens, what a
+beastly dark day! I'll have to start to get dressed before
+long. Too bad we've got such weather for the affair.&quot;
+He glanced irresolutely toward the gas-fixture, and from
+thence to where his evening clothes lay spread out on the
+couch. For it was the evening of the Freshman Class Dinner.
+While he was striving to find energy wherewith to
+tear himself from the soft cushions and make a light, footsteps
+sounded outside his door, and some one demanded
+admission.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come in!&quot; he called.</p>
+
+<p>The door swung open, was closed swiftly and softly
+again, and Neil Fletcher crossed the room. He looked
+rather like a tramp; his hat was a misshapen thing of felt
+from which the water dripped steadily as he tossed it
+aside; his sweater--he wore no coat--was soaking wet;
+and his trousers and much-darned golf stockings were in
+scarcely better condition. His hair looked as though he
+had just taken his head from a water-bucket, and his face
+bespoke excitement.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They're coming after you, Livingston,&quot; he cried in
+an intense whisper. &quot;I heard Cowan telling Carey in the
+locker-room a minute ago; they didn't know I was there;
+it was dark as dark. They've got a carriage, and there are
+going to be nearly a dozen of them. I ran all the way as
+soon as I got on to Oak Street. There wasn't time to get
+any of the fellows together, so I just sneaked right over
+here. You can get out now and go--somewhere--to our
+room or the library. They won't look for you there, eh?
+There's a fellow at the corner watching, but I don't think
+he saw me, and I can settle with him; or maybe you could
+get out the back way and double round by the railroad?
+You can't stay here, because they're coming right away;
+Cowan said--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;For heaven's sake, Fletcher, what do you mean?&quot;
+asked Livingston. &quot;You don't want me to believe that
+they're really going to run off with me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil, gasping for breath, subsided on to the window-seat
+and nodded his head vigorously. &quot;That's just what
+I do mean. There's no doubt about it, my friend. Didn't
+I tell you I heard Cowan--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, Cowan!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I know, but it was all in earnest. Carey and he are
+on their way to Pike's stable for the carriage, and the
+others are to meet there. They've had fellows watching
+you all day. There's one at the corner now--a tall, long-nosed
+chap that I've seen in class. So get your things and
+get out as soon as you can move.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Livingston, with his hands in his pockets, stared
+thoughtfully out of the window, Neil watching him impatiently
+and listening apprehensively for the sound of
+carriage wheels down the street.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It doesn't seem to me that they could be idiots
+enough to attempt such a silly trick,&quot; said Livingston at
+last. &quot;You--you're quite sure you weren't mistaken--that
+they weren't stringing you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They didn't know I was there!&quot; cried Neil in exasperation.
+&quot;I went in late--Mills had us blocking kicks--and
+was changing my things over in a dark corner when
+they hurried in and went over into the next alley and
+began to talk. At first they were whispering, but after
+a bit they talked loud enough for me to hear every
+word.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, anyhow--and I'm awfully much obliged,
+Fletcher--I don't intend to run from a few sophs. I'll
+lock the front door and this one and let them hammer.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nonsense; when they find they can't get in they'll
+get tired and go away.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And you'll go out and get nabbed at the corner!
+That's a clever program, I don't think!&quot; cried Neil in intense
+scorn. &quot;Now you listen to me, Livingston. What
+you want to do is to put your glad rags in a bag and--What's
+that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He leaped to his feet and peered out of the window.
+Just within his range of vision a carriage, drawn by two
+dripping, sorry-looking nags, drew up under the slight
+shelter of an elm-tree about fifty yards away from the
+house. From it emerged eight fellows in rain-coats, while
+the tall, long-nosed watcher whom Neil had seen at the
+corner joined them and made his report. The group
+looked toward Livingston's window and Neil dodged back.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It's too late now,&quot; he whispered. &quot;There they are.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Look a bit damp, don't they,&quot; laughed Livingston
+softly as he peered out over the other's shoulder. &quot;I'll go
+down and lock the door.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, stay here,&quot; said Neil. &quot;I'll look after that; they
+might get you. I wish it wasn't so dark! How about the
+back way? Can't you get out there and sneak around by
+the field?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I told you I wasn't going to run away from them,&quot;
+replied his host, &quot;and I haven't changed my mind.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You're an obstinate ass!&quot; answered Neil. He
+scowled at the calm and smiling countenance of the freshman
+president a moment, and then turned quickly and
+pulled the shades at the windows. &quot;I've got it!&quot; he
+cried. &quot;Look here, will you do as I tell you? If you do
+I promise you we'll fool them finely.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm not going out of this room,&quot; objected Livingston.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, you are--into the next one. And you're going
+to lock the door behind you; and I'm going to look after
+our sophomore callers. Now go ahead. Do as I tell
+you, or I'll go off and leave you to be eaten alive!&quot; Neil,
+grinning delightedly, thrust the unwilling Livingston before
+him. &quot;Now lock the door and keep quiet. No matter
+what you hear, keep quiet and stay in there.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You be hanged!&quot; Neil pulled to the bed-room door,
+and listened until he heard the key turn on the other side.
+Then he stole to the window and, lifting a corner of the
+shade, peeped out. The group of sophomores were no
+longer in sight, but at that moment he heard the front
+door close softly. There was no time to lose. He found
+a match and hurriedly lighted one burner over the study
+table. Then, turning it down to a mere blue point of
+light, he flung himself back among the cushions on the
+window-seat, and with a heart that hammered violently
+at his ribs waited.</p>
+
+<p>Almost in the next moment there were sounds of
+shuffling feet outside the study door, a low voice, and then
+a knock. Neil took a long breath.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come in,&quot; he called drowsily.</p>
+
+<p>The door opened. Neil arose and walked to the gas-fixture,
+knocking over a chair on his way.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come in, whoever you are,&quot; he muttered. &quot;Guess
+I was almost asleep.&quot; He reached up a hand and turned
+out the gas. The room, almost dark before, was now
+blackness from wall to wall. &quot;Pshaw,&quot; said Neil, &quot;I've
+turned the pesky thing out! Just stand still until I find
+a match or you'll break your shins.&quot; He groped his way
+toward the mantel. Now was the sophomores' opportunity,
+and they seized it. Neil had done his best to imitate
+Livingston's careful and rather precise manner of
+speaking, and the invaders, few of whom even knew the
+president of the freshman class by sight, never for an instant
+doubted that they had captured him.</p>
+
+<br>
+<a name="illus-081.jpg"></a>
+<p class="ctr"><a href="images/illus-081.jpg">
+<img src="images/illus-081.jpg" width="50%" alt=""></a><br>
+<b>Hiding his face, he cried for help.</b></p>
+<br>
+
+<p>Neil found himself suddenly seized by strong arms.
+With a cry of simulated surprise, he struggled feebly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Here, what's up, fellows?&quot; he remonstrated. &quot;Look
+out, I tell you! <i>Don't do that</i>!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then he was borne, protesting and kicking, feet foremost,
+through the door, out into the hall and down the
+stairs. When the front door was thrown open Neil was
+alarmed to find that although almost dark it was still light
+enough for his captors to discover their mistake. Hiding
+his face as best he could, he lifted his voice in loud cries
+for help. It worked like a charm. Instantly a carriage
+robe was thrown over his head and he was hurried down
+the steps, across the muddy sidewalk, and into the waiting
+vehicle which had been driven up before the house. Once
+inside, Neil was safe from detection, for the hack, the
+shades drawn up before the windows, was as dark as
+Egypt. Neil sighed his relief, muttered a few perfunctory
+threats from behind the uncomfortable folds of
+the ill-smelling robe, and, with one fellow sitting on his
+chest and three others holding his legs, felt the carriage
+start.</p>
+
+<p>Despite the enveloping folds about his head he could
+hear quite well; hear the horses' feet go <i>squish-squash</i> in
+the mud; hear the carriage creak on its aged hinges; hear
+the shriek of a distant locomotive as they approached the
+railroad. His captors were congratulating themselves on
+the success of their venture.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Easier than I thought it'd be,&quot; said one, and at the
+reply Neil figuratively pricked up his ears.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Pshaw, I knew we'd have no trouble; Livingston was
+so cock-sure that we wouldn't try it that he'd probably
+forgotten all about it. I guess that conceited little fool
+Fletcher will talk out of the other side of his mouth for
+a while now. What do you think? He had the nerve to
+tell me last week that he guessed <i>he</i> could prevent a
+kidnaping, as there were only about a hundred of us sophs!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The others laughed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, he is a chesty young kid, isn't he?&quot; asked a
+third speaker. &quot;I guess it's just as well we didn't have
+to kidnap <i>him</i>, eh? By the way, our friend here seems ill
+at ease. Maybe we'd better get off of him now and give
+him a breath of air. We don't want a corpse on our
+hands.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The sophomores found seats and the robe was unwound
+from about Neil's head, much to that youth's delight.
+He took a good long breath and, grinning enjoyably
+in the darkness, settled himself to make the best of
+his predicament. Now that he had discovered Tom Cowan
+to be one of his abductors, he was filled with such glee
+that he found it hard work to keep silent. But he did, and
+all the gibes of his captors, uttered in quite the most polite
+language imaginable, failed to elicit a reply.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Beautiful evening for a drive, is it not?&quot; asked one.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I trust you had not planned to attend the freshman
+dinner to-night?&quot; asked another. &quot;For I fear we shall
+be late in reaching home.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are quite comfortable? Is there any particular
+road you would like to drive? any part of our lovely
+suburbs you care to visit?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Surly brute!&quot; growled a fourth, who was Cowan.
+&quot;Let's make him speak, eh? Let's twist his arm a bit.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You sit still or I'll punch your thick head,&quot; said the
+first speaker coldly. &quot;What I dislike about you, Cowan,
+is that you are never able to forget that you're a mucker.
+I wish you'd try,&quot; he continued wearily, &quot;it's so monotonous.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Cowan was silent an instant; then laughed uncertainly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I suppose you fancy you're a wit, Baker,&quot; he said,
+&quot;but I think you're mighty tiresome.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't let it trouble you,&quot; was the calm reply. Some
+one laughed drowsily. Then there was silence save for
+the sound of the horses' feet, the complaining of the well-worn
+hack and the occasional voice of the driver outside
+on the box. Neil began to feel rather drowsy himself;
+the motion was lulling, and now that they had crossed the
+railroad-track and reached the turnpike along the river,
+the carriage traveled smoothly. It was black night outside
+now, and through the nearest window at which the
+curtain had been lowered Neil could see nothing save an
+occasional light in some house. He didn't know where he
+was being taken, and didn't much care. They rolled
+steadily on for half an hour longer, during which time
+two at least of his captors proclaimed their contentment
+by loud snoring. Then the carriage slowed down, the
+sleeping ones were awakened, and a moment later a flood
+of light entering the window told Neil that the journey
+was at an end.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Far as we go,&quot; said some one. &quot;All out here and
+take the car ahead!&quot; A door was opened, two of his
+captors got out, and Neil was politely invited to follow.
+He did so. Before him was the open door of a farm-house
+from which the light streamed hospitably. It was
+still drizzling, and Neil took shelter on the porch unchallenged;
+now that the abductors had got him some five
+miles from Centerport, they were not so attentive. The
+others came up the steps and the carriage was led away
+toward the barn.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If your Excellency will have the kindness to enter
+the house,&quot; said Baker, with low obeisance, &quot;he will find
+accommodations which, while far from befitting your Excellency's
+dignity, are, unfortunately, the best at our command.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil accepted the invitation silently, and entering the
+doorway, found himself in a well-lighted room wherein a
+table was set for supper. The others followed, Cowan
+grinning from ear to ear in anticipation of the victim's
+discomfiture. In his eagerness he was the first to catch
+sight of Neil's face. With a howl of surprise he sprang
+back, almost upsetting Baker.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What's the matter with you?&quot; cried the latter.
+Cowan made no answer, but stared stupidly at Neil.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Eh? What?&quot; Baker sprang forward and wheeled
+their victim into the light. Neil turned and faced them
+smilingly. The four stared in bewilderment. It was
+Baker who first found words.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Well, I'll--be--hanged</i>!&quot; he murmured.</p>
+
+<p>Neil turned placidly to the discomfited Cowan.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You see, Cowan,&quot; he said sweetly, &quot;one against a
+hundred isn't such big odds, after all, is it?&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2>
+
+<h3>THE BROKEN TRICYCLE</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>As soon as Livingston heard the kidnapers staggering
+down-stairs with their burden he unlocked the bed-room
+door and stole to the window. He saw Neil, his head
+hidden by the carriage robe, thrust into the hack and
+driven away, and saw the conspirators for whom the vehicle
+afforded no room separate and disappear in the gathering
+darkness. Livingston's emotions were varied: admiration
+for Neil's harebrained but successful ruse, distaste
+for the sorry part taken by himself in the affair, and
+amusement over the coming amazement and discomfiture
+of the enemy were mingled. In the end delight in the
+frustration of the sophomores' plan gained the ascendency,
+and he resolved that although Neil would miss the freshman
+dinner he should have it made up to him.</p>
+
+<p>And so in his speech an hour or so later Fanwell Livingston
+told the astonished company of the attempted kidnaping
+and of its failure, and never before had Odd Fellows'
+Hall rang with such laughter and cheering. And a
+little knot of sophomores, already bewildered by the
+appearance of the freshman president on the scene, were
+more than ever at a loss. They stood under an awning
+across the street, some twenty or thirty of them, and asked
+each other what it meant. Content with the supposed success
+of the abduction, they had made no attempt to prevent
+the dinner. And now Livingston, who by every law
+of nature should be five miles out in the country, was presiding
+at the feast and moving his audience to the wildest
+applause.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But I helped put him in the hack!&quot; Carey cried over
+and over.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And I saw it drive off with him!&quot; marveled another.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And if that's Livingston, where's Baker, and Morton,
+and Cowan, and Dyer?&quot; asked the rest. And all
+shook their heads and gazed bewildered through the
+rain to where a raised window-shade gave them occasional
+glimpses of &quot;Fan&quot; Livingston, a fine figure
+in dinner jacket and white shirt bosom, leading the
+cheering.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Rah-rah-rah, Rah-rah-rah, Rah-rah-rah, Fletcher</i>!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The group under the awning turned puzzled looks
+upon each other.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Who's Fletcher? What are they cheering Fletcher
+for?&quot; was asked. But none could answer.</p>
+
+<p>But over in the hall it was different. Not a lad there,
+perhaps, but would have been glad to have exchanged
+places with the gallant confounder of sophomore plots,
+who was pictured in most minds as starving to death somewhere
+out in the rain, a captive in the ungentle hands of
+the enemy.</p>
+
+<p>However, starving Neil certainly was not. For at that
+very moment, seated at the hospitable board of Farmer
+Hutchins, he was helping himself to his fifth hot biscuit,
+and allowing Miss Hutchins, a red-cheeked and admiring
+young lady of fourteen years, to fill his teacup for the
+second time. From the role of prisoner Neil had advanced
+himself to the position of honored guest. For
+after the first consternation, bewilderment, and mortification
+had passed, his captors philosophically accepted the
+situation, and under the benign influence of cold chicken
+and hot soda biscuits found themselves not only able to
+display equanimity, but to join in the laugh against themselves
+and to admire the cleverness displayed in their out-witting.
+Of the four sophomores Cowan's laughter and
+praise alone rang false. But Neil was supremely indifferent
+to that youth's sentiments. The others he soon discovered
+to be thoroughly good fellows, and there is no
+doubt but that he enjoyed the hospitality of Farmer
+Hutchins more than he would have enjoyed the freshman
+class dinner.</p>
+
+<p>At nine o'clock the drive back to Centerport began,
+and as the horses soon found that they were headed toward
+home the journey occupied surprisingly little time,
+and at ten Neil was back in his room awaiting the return
+of Paul. To Neil's surprise that gentleman was at first
+decidedly grumpy.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You might have let me into it,&quot; he grumbled.</p>
+
+<p>But Neil explained and apologized until at length
+peace was restored. Then he had to tell Paul all about
+it from first to last, and Paul laughed until he choked;
+&quot;I--I just wish--wish I had--seen Cowan's--face when--he--found
+it--out!&quot; he shrieked.</p>
+
+<p>One result of that night's adventure was that the Class
+of 1905 was never thereafter bothered in the slightest
+degree by the sophomores; it appeared to be the generally
+accepted verdict that the freshmen had established their
+right to immunity from all molestation. Another result
+was that Neil became a class hero and a college notable.
+Younger freshmen pointed him out to each other in admiring
+awe; older and more influential ones went out of
+their way to claim recognition from him; sophomores
+viewed him with more than passing interest, and upper-class
+men predicted for him a brilliant college career.
+Even the Dean, when he passed Neil the following afternoon
+and returned his bow, allowing himself something
+almost approaching a grin. Neil, however, bore his
+honors modestly even while acknowledging to himself the
+benefit of them. He learned that his chances of making a
+certain society, membership in which was one of his highest
+ambitions, had been more than doubled, and was glad
+accordingly. (He was duly elected and underwent rigorous
+initiation proudly and joyfully.)</p>
+
+<p>The kidnaping affair even affected his football standing,
+for Mills and Devoe and Simson, the trainer, spoke
+or looked applause, while the head coach thereafter displayed
+quite a personal interest in him. Several days subsequent
+to the affair Neil was taking dummy practise
+with the rest of the second eleven. Mills had appropriated
+the invention of a Harvard trainer, rigging the
+dummy with hook and eye-bolt, so that when properly
+tackled the stuffed canvas effigy of a Robinson player
+became detached from its cable and fell on to the soft loam
+much after the manner of a human being. But to bring
+the dummy from the hook necessitated the fiercest of
+tackling, and many fellows failed at this. To-day Neil
+was one of this number. Twice the dummy, bearing upon
+its breast the brown R of Robinson, had sped away on its
+twenty-foot flight, and twice Neil had thrown himself
+upon it without bringing it down. As he arose after the
+second attempt and brushed the soil from his trousers
+Mills &quot;went for him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You're very ladylike, Fletcher, but as this isn't
+crewel-work or crochet you'll oblige me by being so rude
+as to bring that dummy off. Now, once more; put some
+snap into it! Get your hold, find your purchase, and then
+throw! Just imagine it's a sophomore, please.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The roar of laughter that followed restored some of
+Neil's confidence, and, whether he deceived himself into
+momentarily thinking the dummy a sophomore, he tackled
+finely, brought the canvas figure from the hook, and triumphantly
+sat on the letter R.</p>
+
+<p>Signal practise followed work at the dummy that
+afternoon, and last of all the varsity and second teams
+had their daily line-up. Neil, however, did not get into
+this. Greatly to his surprise and disappointment McCullough
+took his place at left half, and Neil sat on the bench
+and aggrievedly watched the lucky ones peeling off their
+sweaters in preparation for the fray. But idleness was
+not to be his portion, for a moment later Mills called to
+him:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Here, take this ball, go down there to the fifteen-yard
+line, and try drop-kicking. Keep a strict count, and
+let me know how many tries you had and how many
+times you put it over the goal.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil took the ball and trotted off to the scene of his
+labors, greatly comforted. Kicking goals from the fifteen-yard
+line didn't sound very difficult, and he set to work
+resolved to distinguish himself. But drop-kicks were not
+among Neil's accomplishments, and he soon found that the
+cross-bar had a way of being in the wrong place at the
+critical moment. At first it was hard to keep from turning
+his head to watch the progress of the game, but presently
+he became absorbed in his work. As a punter he
+had been somewhat of a success at Hillton, but drop-kicking
+had been left to the full-back, and consequently it was
+unaccustomed work. The first five tries went low, and
+the next four went high enough but wide of the goal.
+The next one barely cleared the cross-bar, and Neil was
+hugely tickled. The count was then ten tries and one
+goal. He got out of the way in order to keep from being
+ground to pieces by the struggling teams, and while he
+stood by and watched the varsity make its first touch-down,
+ruminated sadly upon the report he would have to
+render to Mills.</p>
+
+<p>But a long acquaintance with footballs had thoroughly
+dispelled Neil's awe of them, and he returned to his labor
+determined to better his score. And he did, for when the
+teams trotted by him on their way off the field and Mills
+came up, he was able to report 38 tries, of which 12 were
+goals.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not bad,&quot; said the coach. &quot;That'll do for to-day.
+But whenever you find a football, and don't know what to
+do with it, try drop-kicking. Your punting is very good,
+and there's no reason why you shouldn't learn to kick
+from drop or placement as well. Take my advice and put
+your heart and brain and muscle into it, for, while we've
+got backs that can buck and hurdle and run, we haven't
+many that can be depended on to kick a goal, and we'll
+need them before long.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil trotted out to the locker-house with throbbing
+heart. Mills had as good as promised him his place. That
+is, if he could learn to kick goals. The condition didn't
+trouble Neil, however; he <i>could</i> learn to drop-kick and
+he <i>would</i> learn, he told himself exultantly as he panted
+under the effects of a cold shower-bath. For a moment
+the wild idea of rising at unchristian hours and practising
+before chapel occurred to him, but upon maturer thought
+was given up. No, the only thing to do was to follow
+Mills's advice: &quot;Put your heart and brain and muscle into
+it,&quot; the coach had said. Neil nodded vigorously and
+rubbed himself so hard with the towel as to almost take
+the skin off. He was late in leaving the house that evening,
+and as all the fellows he knew personally had already
+taken their departure, he started back toward the campus
+alone. Near the corner of King Street he glanced up and
+saw something a short distance ahead that puzzled him.
+It looked at first like a cluster of bicycles with a single
+rider. But as the rider was motionless Neil soon came up
+to him.</p>
+
+<p>On nearer view he saw that the object was in reality a
+tricycle, and that it held beside the rider a pair of crutches
+which lay in supports lengthwise along one side. The machine
+was made to work with the hands instead of the
+feet, and a bow-shaped piece of steel which fitted around
+the operator's knee served as steering apparatus. The
+youth who sat motionless on the seat was a rather pale-faced,
+frail-looking lad of eighteen years, and it needed
+no second glance to tell Neil that he was crippled from
+his waist down. As Neil approached he was pulling the
+handles to and fro and looking perplexedly at the gear.
+The tricycle refused to budge.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I guess you've broken down,&quot; said Neil, approaching.
+&quot;Stay where you are and I'll have a look.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thanks, but you needn't bother,&quot; said the lad.</p>
+
+<p>But Neil was already on his knees. The trouble was
+soon found; the chain had broken and for the present was
+beyond repair.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But the wheels will go round, just the same,&quot; said
+Neil cheerfully. &quot;Keep your seat and I'll push you back.
+Where do you room?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Walton,&quot; was the answer. &quot;But I don't like to
+bother you, Mr. Fletcher. You see I have my crutches
+here, and I can get around very well on them.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nonsense, there's no use in your walking all the way
+to Walton. Here, I'll take the chain off and play horse.
+By the way, how'd you know my name?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, every one knows you since that kidnaping business,&quot;
+laughed the other, beginning to forget some of his
+shyness. &quot;And besides I've heard the coach speak to you
+at practise.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh,&quot; said Neil, who was now walking behind the
+tricycle and pushing it before him, &quot;then you've been out
+to the field, eh?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, I like to watch practise. I go out very nearly
+every day.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>[Illustration: &quot;I guess you've broken down,&quot; said Neil.]</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come to think of it, I believe I've seen you there,&quot;
+said Neil. &quot;It's wonderful how you can get around on
+this machine as you do. Isn't it hard work at times?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Rather, on grades, you know. But on smooth roads
+it goes very easily; besides, I've worked it every day
+almost for so long that I've got a pretty good muscle now.
+My father had this one made for me only two months ago
+to use here at Erskine. The last machine I had was very
+much heavier and harder to manage.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I guess being so light has made it weak,&quot; said Neil,
+&quot;or it wouldn't have broken down like this.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, I fancy that was more my fault than the tricycle's,&quot;
+answered the boy. As Neil was behind him he
+did not see the smile that accompanied the words.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, I'll take you home and then wheel the thing
+down to the bicycle repair-shop near the depot, eh?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, no, indeed,&quot; protested the other. &quot;I'll--I'll
+have them send up for it. I wouldn't have you go way
+down there with it for anything.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Pshaw! that's no walk; besides, if you have them
+send, it will be some time to-morrow afternoon before you
+get it back.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I sha'n't really need it before then,&quot; answered the
+lad earnestly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You might,&quot; said Neil. There was such a tone of
+finality in the reply that the boy on the seat yielded, but
+for an instant drew his face into a pucker of perplexity.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thank you,&quot; he said; &quot;it's awfully nice of you to take
+so much trouble.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I can't see that,&quot; Neil replied. &quot;I don't see how I
+could do any less. By the way, what's your name, if you
+don't mind?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sydney Burr.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Burr? That's why you were stuck there up the
+road,&quot; laughed Neil. &quot;We're in the same class, aren't
+we?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>At the middle entrance of Walton Hall Neil helped
+Burr on to his crutches, and would have assisted him up
+the steps had he not objected.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Please don't,&quot; he said, flushing slightly. &quot;I can get
+up all right; I do it every day. My room's on this floor,
+too. I'm awfully much obliged to you for what you've
+done. I wish you'd come and see me some time--No. 3.
+Do you--do you think you could?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Of course,&quot; Neil answered heartily, &quot;I'll be glad to.
+Three, you said? All right. I'll take this nag down to the
+blacksmith's now and get him reshod. If they can fix
+him right off I'll bring him back with me. Where do you
+stable him?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The janitor takes it down-stairs somewhere. If I'm
+not here just give it to him, please. I wish, though,
+you wouldn't bother about bringing it back.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'll ride him back,&quot; laughed Neil. &quot;Good-night.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good-night. Don't forget you're coming to see me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Sydney Burr smiled and, turning, climbed the steps
+with astonishing ease, using his crutches with a dexterity
+born of many years' dependence upon them. His lower
+limbs, slender and frail, swung from side to side, mere
+useless appendages. Neil sighed as he saw his new acquaintance
+out of sight, and then started on his errand
+with the tricycle.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Poor duffer!&quot; he muttered. &quot;And yet he seems
+cheerful enough, and looks happy. But to think of having
+to creep round on stilts or pull himself about on this
+contrivance! I mustn't forget to call on him; I dare say
+he hasn't many friends. He seems a nice chap, too;
+and he'd be frightfully good-looking if he wasn't so
+white.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It was almost dark when he reached the repair-shop
+near the railroad, and the proprietor, a wizened little bald-headed
+man, was preparing to go home.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Can't fix anything to-night,&quot; he protested shrilly.
+&quot;It's too late; come in the morning.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, if you think I'm going to wheel this thing
+back here to-morrow you've missed your guess,&quot; said Neil.
+&quot;All it needs is to have a chain link welded or glued or
+something; it won't take five minutes. And the fellow
+that owns it is a cripple and can't go out until this machine's
+fixed. Now go ahead, like a good chap; I'll hold
+your bonnet.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Eh? What bonnet?&quot; The little man stared perplexedly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I meant I'd help,&quot; answered Neil unabashed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Help! Huh! Lot's of help, you'd be to any one!
+Well, let's see it.&quot; He knelt and inspected the tricycle,
+grumbling all the while and shaking his head angrily.
+&quot;Who said it was broke?&quot; he demanded presently.
+&quot;Queer kind of break; looks like you'd pried the link
+apart with a cold-chisel.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, I didn't; nor with a hot chisel. Besides, I've
+just told you it didn't belong to me. Do I look like a
+cripple?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;More like a fool,&quot; answered the other with a
+chuckle.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You're a naughty old man,&quot; said Neil sorrowfully,
+&quot;and if you were my father I'd spank you.&quot; The other
+was too angry to find words, and contented himself with
+bending back the damaged link and emitting a series of
+choking sounds which Neil rightly judged to be expressions
+of displeasure. When the repair was finished he
+pushed the machine angrily toward the boy.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Take it and get out,&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thanks. How much?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Fifty cents,&quot; was the reply, given with a toothless
+grin and a chuckle. &quot;Twenty-five cents for the job and
+twenty-five cents for working after hours.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Cheap enough,&quot; answered Neil, laying a quarter
+on the bench. &quot;That's for the job; I'll owe you the
+rest.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>When he reached the first corner the proprietor of the
+repair-shop was still calling him names and shaking his
+fist in the air.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Looked just like a he-witch or something,&quot; chuckled
+Neil, as he propelled his steed toward the campus. &quot;Maybe
+he will put a curse upon me and my right foot will
+wither up and I won't be able to kick goals!&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2>
+
+<h3>NEIL MAKES THE VARSITY</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>On the 12th of October, Woodby College sent a team
+of light but very fast football players to Erskine with full
+determination to bring back the pigskin. And it very
+nearly succeeded. It was the first game of the season for
+Erskine, but Woodby had already played two, and was
+consequently rather more hardened. The first half ended
+with the score 6 to 6, and the spectators, fully three hundred
+supporters of the Purple, looked glum. Neil and
+Paul were given their chance in the second half, taking
+the places of Gillam and Smith. Many other changes
+were made, among them one which installed the newly
+discovered Browning at left guard vice Carey, removed
+to the bench.</p>
+
+<p>There was no use in attempting to disguise the fact
+that Woodby literally played all around the home team.
+Her backs gained almost at will on end runs, and her punting
+was immeasurably superior. Foster, the Erskine
+quarter-back, sent kick after kick high into the air, and
+twenty yards was his best performance. On defense
+Woodby was almost equally strong, and had Erskine not
+outweighted her in the line some five pounds per man,
+would have forced her to kick every time. As it was, the
+purple-clad backs made but small and infrequent gains
+through the line, and very shortly found that runs outside
+of tackle or end were her best cards, even though, as was
+several times the case, her runners were nailed back of her
+line for losses.</p>
+
+<p>Team play was as yet utterly lacking in the Erskine
+eleven, and though the men were as a rule individually
+brilliant or decidedly promising, Woodby had far the best
+of it there. Fumbles were many on both sides, but Erskine's
+were the most costly. Stone's fumble of a free
+kick soon after the second half began gave Woodby her
+second touch-down, from which, luckily, she failed to kick
+goal. The veterans on the team, Tucker at left tackle,
+Graham at center, Cowan at right-guard, Foster at
+quarter, and Devoe at right end, played well with the
+glaring exception of Cowan, whose work in the second
+half especially was so slipshod that Mills, with wrath in
+his eye, took him out and put in Bell, a second eleven man.</p>
+
+<p>With the score 11 to 6 against her, Erskine braced
+up and fought doggedly to score. Neil proved the best
+ground-gainer, and made several five-and ten-yard runs
+around right end. Once, with the ball on Woodby's
+twelve yards and the audience shouting vehemently for a
+touch-down, Foster called on Paul for a plunge through
+right tackle. Paul made two yards, but in some manner
+lost the ball, a fumble that put Erskine back on her fifty-yard
+line and that sent her hopes of tying the score down
+to zero.</p>
+
+<p>The second half was to be but fifteen minutes long,
+and fully ten of the fifteen had gone by when Erskine
+took up her journey toward Woodby's goal again. Mason,
+the full-back, and Neil were sent plunging, bucking, hurdling
+at the enemy's breastworks, and time after time just
+managed to gain their distance in the three downs. Fortune
+was favoring Erskine, and Woodby's lighter men
+were slower and slower in finding their positions after
+each pile-up. Then, with the pigskin on Woodby's twenty-eight
+yards, Neil was given the ball for a try outside of
+right tackle, and by brilliantly leaving his interference,
+which had become badly tangled up, got safely away and
+staggered over the line just at the corner. The punt-out
+was a success and Devoe kicked goal, making the score
+12 to 11 in Erskine's favor. For the rest of the half the
+home team was satisfied to keep Woodby away from its
+goal, and made no effort to score. Woodby left the field
+after the fashion of victors, which, practically, they were,
+while the Erskine players trotted subduedly back to the
+locker-house with unpleasant anticipations of what was
+before them--anticipations fully justified by subsequent
+events. For Mills tore them up very eloquently, and
+promised them that if they were scored on by the second
+eleven before the game with Harvard he'd send every
+man of them to the benches and take the second to Cambridge.</p>
+
+<p>Neil walked back to college beside Sydney Burr, insisting
+that that youth should take his hands from the levers
+and be pushed. Paul had got into the habit of always
+accompanying Cowan on his return from the field, and
+as Neil liked the big sophomore less and less the more
+he saw of him, he usually fell back on either Ted Foster
+or Sydney Burr for company. To-day it was Sydney.
+On the way that youth surprised Neil by his intelligent
+discussion and criticism of the game he had just
+watched.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How on earth did you get to know so much about
+football?&quot; asked Neil. &quot;You talk like a varsity coach.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do I?&quot; said Sydney, flushing with pleasure. &quot;I--I
+always liked the game, and I've studied it quite a bit
+and watched it all I could. Of course, I can never
+play, but I get a good deal of enjoyment out of it. Sometimes&quot;--his
+shyness returned momentarily and he hesitated--&quot;sometimes
+I make believe that I'm playing,
+you know; put myself, in imagination, in the place of one
+of the team. To-day I--to-day I was you,&quot; he added with
+a deprecatory laugh.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You don't say?&quot; cried Neil. Then the pathos of it
+struck him and he was silent a moment. The cripple's
+love and longing for sport in which he could never hope
+to join seemed terribly sad and gave him a choking sensation
+in his throat.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If I had been--like other fellows,&quot; continued Sydney,
+quite cheerfully, &quot;I should have played everything--football,
+baseball, hockey, tennis--everything! I'd
+give--anything I've got--if I could just run from here to
+the corner.&quot; He was silent a minute, looking before him
+with eyes from which the usual brightness was gone.
+Then, &quot;My, it must be good to run and walk and jump
+around just as you want to,&quot; he sighed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; muttered Neil, &quot;but--but that was a good
+little run you made to-day.&quot; Sydney looked puzzled,
+then laughed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;In the game, you mean? Yes, wasn't it? And I
+made a touch-down and won the game. I was awfully
+afraid at one time that that Woodby quarter-back was
+going to nab me; that's why I made for the corner of the
+field like that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I fancied that was the reason,&quot; answered Neil
+gravely. Then their eyes met and they laughed together.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Your friend Gale didn't play so well to-day,&quot; said
+Sydney presently. Neil shook his head with a troubled
+air.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, he played rotten ball, and that's a fact. I don't
+know what's got into him of late. He doesn't seem to care
+whether he pleases Mills or not. I think it's that chap
+Cowan. He tells Paul that Mills and Devoe are imposing
+on him and that he isn't getting a fair show and all that
+sort of stuff. Know Cowan?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Only by sight. I don't think I'd care to know him;
+he looks a good deal like--like--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Just so,&quot; laughed Neil. &quot;That's the way he strikes
+me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>After dinner that evening Paul bewailed what he
+called his ill luck. Neil listened patiently for a while;
+then--</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Look here, Paul,&quot; he said, &quot;don't talk such rot.
+Luck had nothing to do with it, and you know it. The
+trouble was that you weren't in shape; you've been shilly-shallying
+around of late and just doing good enough work
+to keep Mills from dropping you to the scrub. It's that
+miserable idiot Tom Cowan that's to blame; he's been filling
+your head with nonsense; telling you that you are so
+good that you don't have to practise, and that Mills
+doesn't dare drop you, and lots of poppycock of that kind.
+Now, I'll tell you, chum, that the best thing to do is to
+go honestly to work and do your best.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Paul was deeply insulted by this plain speaking, and
+very promptly took himself off up-stairs to Cowan's room.
+Of late he spent a good deal of his time there and Neil
+was getting worried. For Cowan was notably an idler,
+and the wonder was how he managed to keep himself in
+college even though he was taking but a partial course.
+To be sure, Cowan's fate didn't bother Neil a bit, but he
+was greatly afraid that his example would be followed by
+his roommate, who, at the best, was none too fond of
+study. Neil sat long that evening over an unopened book,
+striving to think of some method of weakening Cowan's
+hold on Paul--a hold that was daily growing stronger
+and which threatened to work ill to the latter. In the
+end Neil sighed, tossed down the volume, and made ready
+for bed without having found a solution of the problem.</p>
+
+<p>The following Monday Neil was rewarded for his good
+showing in the Woodby game by being taken on to the
+varsity. Paul remained on the second team, and Cowan,
+greatly to that gentleman's bewilderment and wrath,
+joined him there. The two teams, with their substitutes,
+went to training-table that day in Pearson's boarding-house
+on Elm Street, and preparation for the game with
+Harvard, now but nine days distant, began in earnest.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2>
+
+<h3>THE RESULT OF A FUMBLE</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>Sydney Burr had trundled himself out to the field
+and had drawn his tricycle close up to the low wooden
+fence that divides the gridiron from the grand stand and
+against which the players on the benches lean their
+blanketed backs. From there he had an uninterrupted
+view. It was a perfect afternoon. Overhead a few white
+clouds drifted lazily about against a warm blue sky. The
+sun shone brightly and mocked at light overcoats. But
+for all that there was an October sparkle in the air, and
+once in a while a tiny breeze from the north came across
+the yellowing field and whispered that winter was not far
+behind.</p>
+
+<p>Sydney had a rug thrown over his lower limbs and
+wore a warm white woolen sweater. There was quite a
+dash of color in his usually pale cheeks, and his blue eyes
+flashed with interest as he watched the men at practise.
+Near at hand a panting group of fellows were going
+through the signals, the quarter crying his numbers with
+gasps for breath, then passing the ball to half-or full-back
+and quickly throwing himself into the interference. Sydney
+recognized him as Bailey, the varsity substitute.
+Sydney knew almost all the players by sight now and the
+names of many.</p>
+
+<p>Near the east goal two lines of heaving, charging men
+were being coached by Mills in breaking through. Stowell,
+the big, good-natured substitute center, was bending
+over the ball. Sydney could hear Mills's sharp voice:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now draw back, defense, and lunge into them! Get
+the start on them!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then the ball was snapped and the two ranks heaved
+and pitched a moment before the offense broke through
+and scattered the turf with little clumps of writhing
+players.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That was good, Tucker, good!&quot; cried Mills. &quot;You
+did just as I told you. Now give the ball to the other side.
+Weight forward, defense, every one of you on his toes.
+<i>Browning, watch that ball!</i> Now get into them, every
+one! Block them!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>At the other end of the field six fellows were kicking
+goal and six others, stretched upon the turf, were holding
+the balls for them. Devoe was coaching. Sydney could
+see Neil, the farthest away of any, lifting the leather
+toward the posts from a difficult angle on the twenty-yard
+line. Even as he watched, the ball sailed away from Neil's
+toe and went fair over the cross-bar, and Sydney silently
+applauded. He set himself to recognizing the other kickers.
+There was Gale, the tall and rather heavy fellow in
+the crimson sleeves; and Mason, equally tall but all corners
+and angles; and Smith, and Gillam, and Foster.
+Devoe seemed to be laying down the law forcibly to Gale;
+he was gesticulating with his hands and nodding his head
+like a Chinese mandarin. Sydney could not hear what he
+was saying, nor could he see Gale's face; but in the attitude
+of the captain there was exasperation, and in that of
+Gale sullen impatience.</p>
+
+<p>Another group at signal practise drew nigh, and
+Sydney gave his attention to it. Reardon, the second
+eleven quarter, sang his signals in a queer, shrill voice
+that was irresistibly funny. In front of Sydney he raised
+himself, wiped his palms on his stained trousers, grimaced
+at one of the halves, and took a deep breath.
+Then--</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Signal</i>!&quot; he cried. &quot;<i>7--8--4--6!</i>&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Eight half bounded by him, full-back fell in behind
+and took the ball, left half dashed after, and the group
+trotted away to line up again ten yards down the field.
+But presently the lines at the east goal broke up and
+trotted toward the benches, and Mills called the players
+in from all parts of the field. The water-pail was surrounded
+and the thirsty players rinsed out their mouths,
+well knowing the reprimand that awaited should they be
+rash enough to take even one swallow. Sweaters were
+hurriedly donned, Simson dealing them out from the pile
+on the ground, and the fellows sank on to the benches.
+Neil saw Sydney, and talked to him over the fence until
+he heard his name called from the line-up.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think I shall make a touch-down to-day,&quot; said Sydney.
+Neil shook his head, smiling:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't know about that; you're not feeling so fit
+to-day, you know.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, that doesn't matter,&quot; answered the cripple.
+&quot;You just watch me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil laughed, and hurrying off, was fitted with his
+head harness and trotted out to his place. Sydney was
+mistaken, as events proved, for he--in the person of
+Neil Fletcher--failed to get over the second's goal-line in
+either of the short halves; which was also true of all the
+other varsity players. But if she didn't score, the varsity
+kept the second at bay, and that was a good deal. The
+second played desperately, being convinced that Mills
+would keep his promise and, if they succeeded in scoring
+on their opponents, give them the honor of facing Harvard
+the following Wednesday. But the varsity, being
+equally convinced of the fact, played quite as desperately,
+and the two teams trotted off with honors even.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sponge off, everybody!&quot; was the stentorian command
+from the trainer, and one by one the players leaned
+over while the big, dripping sponge was applied to face
+and head. Then sweaters were again donned and the
+four laps around the field began, the men trotting by twos
+and threes, or, in the case of the injured ones, trailing
+along behind.</p>
+
+<p>The next day, Wednesday, October 16th, Erskine
+played Dexter. Dexter is a preparatory school that has
+a way of turning out strong elevens, many of which in
+previous years had put up excellent fights against Erskine.
+On the present occasion Erskine went into the game with
+a line largely composed of substitutes and a back-field by
+no means as strong as possible. During the first half
+Dexter was forced to give all her attention to defending
+her goal, and had no time for incursions into Erskine territory.
+The home college ran up 17 points, Devoe missing
+one goal. In the second half Erskine made further
+changes in her team. Cowan took Witter's place at right-guard,
+Reardon went in at quarter in place of Bailey, and
+Neil, who had watched the first half greedily from the
+side-line, went in at left half.</p>
+
+<p>It was Dexter's kick-off, and she sent the ball fully
+forty yards. Reardon called to Neil to take it. That
+youth got it on his ten yards, and by fine dodging ran it
+back to the eighteen-yard line. From there it was advanced
+by straight line-plunging to Erskine's forty yards,
+and it seemed that a procession down the field to another
+touch-down had begun. But at this point Fate and Tom
+Cowan took a hand. Cowan was taken back of the line
+for a plunge through tackle. With right half and full
+lined up in tandem behind him he was given the ball and
+shot through easily for several yards. Then, his support
+gone, he staggered on for five yards more by sheer force
+of weight with two Dexter backs dragging at him, and
+there, for no apparent cause, dropped the pigskin. The
+Dexter quarter-back, running in to stop Cowan, was on
+it in a twinkling, had skirted the right end of the <i>m&ecirc;l&eacute;e</i>
+and was racing toward Erskine's goal. It had happened
+so quickly and unexpectedly that the runner was fifteen
+yards to the good before pursuit began. Devoe and Neil
+took up the chase, but it was a hopeless task, and in
+another minute the little band of crimson-adorned Dexter
+supporters and substitutes on the side-line were yelling
+like mad. The Dexter quarter placed the ball nicely
+behind the very center of the west goal, and when it was
+taken out none but a cripple could have failed to kick it
+over the cross-bar. As Dexter's left-end was not a cripple
+her score changed from a 5 to a 6.</p>
+
+<p>But that was the end of her offensive work for that
+afternoon. Erskine promptly took the ball from her after
+the kick-off, and kept it until Neil had punctured Dexter's
+line between left-guard and tackle and waded through a
+sea of clutching foes twelve yards for a touch-down.
+Devoe once more failed at goal, and five minutes later
+the game came to an end with the final score 22 to 6.
+Dexter was happy and Erskine disgruntled.</p>
+
+<p>In the locker-house after the game Mills had some
+sharp things to say, and didn't hesitate to say them in his
+best manner. There was absolutely no favoritism shown;
+he began at one end of the line and went to the other,
+then dropped back to left half, took in quarter on the
+way, and ended up with full. Some got off easy; Neil
+was among them; and so was Devoe, for it is not a good
+policy for a coach to endanger a captain's authority
+by public criticism; but when it was all over no one
+felt slighted. And when all were beginning to breathe
+easier, thinking the storm had passed, it burst forth
+anew.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Cowan, I don't see how you came to drop that ball,&quot;
+said Mills, in fresh exasperation. &quot;Why, great Scott,
+man, there was no one touching you except a couple of
+schoolboys tugging at your legs! What was the matter?
+Paralysis? Vertigo? Or haven't you learned yet, after
+two years of football playing, to hang on to the ball?
+There's a cozy nook waiting on the second scrub for fellows
+like you!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Cowan, his pride already sorely wounded, found the
+last too much for his temper.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No one can help an occasional accident,&quot; he blurted.
+&quot;If I did fumble, there's no reason why you should insult
+me. Lots of fellows have fumbled before and got off
+without being walked on. I've played my position for two
+years, and I guess I know how to do it. But when a
+fellow is singled out as a--a scapegoat--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That will do, Cowan,&quot; interrupted Mills quietly.
+&quot;You've lost your temper. We don't want men on this
+team who can't stand criticism--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Criticism!&quot; sneered Cowan, looking very red and
+ugly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, criticism!&quot; answered Mills sharply, &quot;and scolding,
+too, my friend. I'm here to turn out a team that will
+win from Robinson and not to cater to any one's vanity;
+when it's necessary, I'm going to scold and say some hard
+things. But I've never insulted any fellow and I never
+will. I've had my eye on you ever since practise began,
+Cowan, and let me tell you that you haven't at any time
+passed muster; your playing's been slovenly, careless, and
+generally mean. You've soldiered half the time. And
+I think we can get along without you for the rest of the
+season.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mills, his blue eyes sparkling, turned away, and Stowell
+and White, who for a minute past had been striving
+to check Cowan's utterances, now managed to drag him
+away.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Shut up!&quot; whispered White hoarsely. &quot;Don't be
+a fool! Come out of here!&quot; And they hauled him outside,
+where, on the porch, he gave vent anew to his wrath
+until they left him finally in disgust.</p>
+
+<p>He slouched in to see Paul after dinner that evening,
+much to Neil's impatience, and taking up a commanding
+position on a corner of the study-table, recited his tale of
+injustice with great eloquence. Paul, who had spent the
+afternoon with other unfortunates on the benches, was
+full of sympathy.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It's a dirty shame, Tom,&quot; he said. &quot;And I'm glad
+you waded into Mills the way you did. It was fine!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Little white-haired snake!&quot; exclaimed Cowan.
+&quot;Drops me from training just because I make a fumble!
+Why, you've fumbled, Paul, and so's Fletcher here; lots
+of times. But he doesn't lay <i>you</i> off! Oh, dear, no;
+you're swells whose names will look well in the line-up
+for the Robinson game! But here I've played on the
+team for two years, and now off I go just because I
+dropped a ball. It's rank injustice!</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I suppose he thinks I've got to play football here.
+If he does he's away off, that's all. I could have gone to
+Robinson this fall and had everything I wanted. They
+guaranteed me a position at guard or tackle, and I
+wouldn't have needed to bother with studies as I do here,
+either.&quot; The last remark called a smile to Neil's face,
+and Cowan unfortunately glanced his way and saw it.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I dare say if I was willing to toady to Mills and
+Devoe, and tell everybody they're the finest football leaders
+that ever came down the pike, it would be different,&quot;
+he sneered angrily. &quot;Maybe then Mills would give me
+private instruction in goal-kicking and let me black his
+boots for him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil closed his book and leaned back in his chair, a
+little disk of red in each cheek.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now, look here, Tom Cowan, let's have this out,&quot;
+he said quietly. &quot;You're hitting at me, of course--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, keep out, chum,&quot; protested Paul. &quot;Cowan
+hasn't mentioned you once.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He doesn't need to,&quot; answered Neil. &quot;I understand
+without it. But let me tell you, Cowan, that I do not
+toady to either Mills or Devoe. I do treat them, however,
+as I would any one who was in authority over me.
+I don't think merely because I've played the game before
+that I know all the football there is to know.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Meaning that I do?&quot; growled Cowan.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I mean that you've got a swelled head, Cowan, and
+that when Mills said you hadn't been doing your best he
+only told the truth, and what every fellow knows.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Shut up, Neil!&quot; cried Paul angrily. &quot;It isn't necessary
+for you to pitch into Cowan just because he's down
+on his luck.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't mind him,&quot; said Cowan, eying Neil with
+hatred. &quot;He's sore about what I said. I dare say I
+shouldn't have said it. If he's Mills's darling--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil pushed back his chair, and rose to his feet with
+blazing eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Kindly get out of here,&quot; he said. &quot;I've had enough
+of your insults. This is my room; please leave it!&quot;
+Cowan stared a moment in surprise, hesitated, threw a
+glance of inquiry at Paul's troubled and averted face, and
+slid from the table.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Of course you can put me out of your room,&quot; he
+sneered. &quot;For that matter, I'm glad to leave it. I did
+think, though, that part of the shop was Paul's, but I
+dare say he has to humor you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The room's as much mine as his,&quot; said Paul, &quot;and I
+want you to stay in it.&quot; He looked defiantly over at his
+friend. Neil had not bargained for a quarrel with Paul,
+but was too incensed to back down.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And I say you sha'n't stay,&quot; he declared. &quot;Paul and
+I will settle the proprietorship of the room after you're
+out of it. Now you get!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Maybe you'll put me out?&quot; asked Cowan with a show
+of bravado. But he glanced toward the door as he spoke.
+Neil nodded.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Maybe I will,&quot; he answered grimly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Cowan's my guest, Neil!&quot; cried Paul. &quot;And
+you've no right to put him out, and I sha'n't let you!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He'll go out of here, if I have to fight him and you
+too, Paul!&quot; Paul stared in wonderment. He was so
+used to being humored by his roommate that this declaration
+of war took his breath away. Cowan laughed with
+attempted nonchalance.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Your friend's a bit chesty, Paul,&quot; he said. &quot;Perhaps
+we'd better humor him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, stay where you are,&quot; said Paul. &quot;If he thinks
+he's boss of me he's mistaken.&quot; He glared wrathfully at
+Neil, and yet with a trifle of uneasiness. Paul was no
+coward, but physical conflict with Neil was something so
+contrary to the natural order that it appalled him. Neil
+removed the gorgeous bottle-green velvet jacket that he
+wore in the evenings, and threw open the study door.
+Then he faced Cowan. That gentleman returned his gaze
+for a moment defiantly. But something in Neil's expression
+caused his eyes to drop and seek the portal. He
+laughed uneasily, and with simulated indifference laid his
+hand on Paul's shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come on, old chap,&quot; he said, &quot;let's get out before
+we're torn to bits. There's no pleasure in staying with
+such a disagreeable fire-eater, anyhow. Come up to my
+room, and let him cool off.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Paul hesitated, and then turned to follow Cowan, who
+was strolling toward the door. Angry as he was, deep in
+his heart he was glad to avoid conflict with his chum.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;All right,&quot; he answered in a voice that trembled,
+&quot;we'll go; but&quot;--turning to Neil--&quot;if you think I'm
+going to put up with this sort of thing, you're mistaken.
+You can have this room, and I'll get another.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'd suggest your rooming with Cowan,&quot; answered
+Neil, &quot;since you're so fond of him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Your friend's jealous,&quot; laughed Cowan from the
+hall. Paul joined him, slamming the door loudly as he
+went.</p>
+
+<p>Neil heard Cowan's laughter and the sound of their
+steps as they climbed the stairs. For several moments he
+stood motionless, staring at the door. Then he shook his
+head, donned his jacket, and sat down again. Now that
+it was done, he was intensely sorry. As for the quarrel
+with Cowan, that troubled not at all; but an open breach
+with Paul was something new and something which, just
+at this time especially, might work for ill. Paul was
+already so far under Cowan's domination that anything
+tending to foster their friendship was unfortunate. Neil
+was ashamed, too, of his burst of temper, and the remainder
+of the evening passed miserably enough.</p>
+
+<p>When Paul returned he was cold and repellent, and
+answered Neil's attempts at conversation in monosyllables.
+Neil, however, was glad to find that Paul said nothing
+further about a change of quarters, and in that fact found
+encouragement. After all, Paul would soon get over his
+anger, he told himself; the two had been firm friends for
+three years, and it would take something more than the
+present affair to estrange them.</p>
+
+<p>But as the days passed and Paul showed no disposition
+to make friends again, Neil began to despair. He knew
+that Cowan was doing all in his power to widen the breach
+and felt certain that left to himself Paul would have forgotten
+his grievance long ago. Paul spent most of his
+time in Cowan's room when at home, and Neil passed many
+dull hours. One thing there was, however, which pleased
+him. Cowan's absence from the field worked a difference
+from the first in Paul's playing, and the latter was now
+evidently putting his heart into his work. He made such
+a good showing between the day of Cowan's dismissal and
+the following Wednesday that he was scheduled to play
+right half against Harvard, and was consequently among
+the little army of players and supporters that journeyed
+to Cambridge on that day.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2>
+
+<h3>ON THE HOSPITAL LIST</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>Harvard's good showing thus far during the season
+convinced Erskine that could she hold the crimson warriors
+down to five scores she would be doing remarkably
+well, and that could she, by any miracle, cross Harvard's
+goal-line she would be practically victorious. The team
+that journeyed to Cambridge on October 23d was made
+up as follows:</p>
+
+<p>Stone, l.e.; Tucker, l.t.; Carey, l.g.; Stowell, c.;
+Witter, r.g.; White, r.t.; Devoe, r.e.; Foster, q.b.;
+Fletcher, l.h.b.; Gale, r.h.b.; Mason, f.b.</p>
+
+<p>Besides these, eight substitutes went along and some
+thirty patriotic students followed. Among the latter was
+Sydney Burr and &quot;Fan&quot; Livingston. Neil had brought
+the two together, and Livingston had readily taken to the
+crippled youth. In Livingston's care Sydney had no difficulty
+in making the trip to Soldiers Field and back comfortably
+and safely.</p>
+
+<p>There is no need to tell in detail here of the Harvard-Erskine
+contest. Those who saw it will give Erskine credit
+for a plucky struggle against a heavier, more advanced,
+and much superior team. In the first half Harvard scored
+three times, and the figures were 17-0. In the second
+half both teams put in several substitutes. For Erskine,
+Browning went in for Carey, Graham for Stowell, Hurst
+for Witter, Pearse for Mason, and Bailey for Foster. In
+this half Harvard crossed Erskine's goal-line three more
+times without much difficulty, while Erskine made the
+most of a stroke of rare good luck, and changed her goose-egg
+for the figure 5.</p>
+
+<p>On the Purple's forty yards Harvard fumbled, not for
+the first time that day, and Neil, more by accident than
+design, got the pigskin on the bounce, and, skirting the
+opposing right end, went up the field for a touch down
+without ever being in danger. The Erskine supporters
+went mad with delight, and the Harvard stand was ruefully
+silent. Devoe missed a difficult goal and a few minutes
+later the game ended with a final score of 34-5.
+Mills, however, would gladly have yielded that five points,
+if by so doing he could have taken ten from the larger
+score. He was disappointed in the team's defense, and
+realized that a wonderful improvement was necessary if
+Robinson was to be defeated.</p>
+
+<p>And so the Erskine players were plainly given to
+understand the next day that they had not acquired all the
+glory they thought they had. The advance guard of the
+assistant coaches put in an appearance in the shape of
+Jones and Preston, both old Erskine football men, and
+took hold with a vim. Jones, a former guard, a big man
+with bristling black hair, took the line men under his
+wing and made them jump. Neil, Paul, and several others
+were taken in hand by Preston, and were daily put
+through a vigorous course of punting and kicking. Neil
+was fast acquiring speed and certainty in the art of kicking
+goals from drop and placement, while Paul promised to
+turn out a fair second choice.</p>
+
+<p>Jones, as every one soon learned, was far from satisfied
+with the line of material at his disposal. He wanted
+more weight, especially in the center trio, and was soon
+pleading with Mills to have Cowan reinstated. The head
+coach ultimately relented, and Devoe was given to understand
+that if Cowan expressed himself decently regretful
+and determined to do good work he could go back into the
+second. The big sophomore, who, by his frequent avowals,
+was in college for no other purpose than to play football,
+had simply been lost since his dismissal, and, upon hearing
+Devoe's message, eagerly came off his high horse and made
+a visit to Mills. What he said and what Mills said is not
+known; but Cowan went back into the second team at
+right-guard, and on Saturday was given a try at that position
+in the game with Erstham. He did so well that Jones
+was highly pleased, and Mills found it in his heart to forgive.
+The results of the Erstham game were both unexpected
+and important.</p>
+
+<p>Instead of the comparatively easy victory anticipated,
+Erskine barely managed to save herself from being played
+to a standstill, and the final figures were 6-0 in her
+favor. The score was made in the last eight minutes
+of the second half by fierce line-bucking, but not before
+half of the purple line had given place to substitutes, and
+one of the back-field had been carried bodily off the
+gridiron.</p>
+
+<p>With the ball on Erstham's twenty-six yards, where it
+had been desperately carried by the relentless plunging and
+hurdling of Neil, Smith, and Mason, Erstham twice successfully
+repelled the onslaught, and it was Erskine's third
+down with two yards to gain. To lose the ball by kicking
+was the last thing to be thought of, and so, despite the
+fact that hitherto well-nigh every attempt at end running
+had met with failure, Foster gave the ball to Neil for a try
+around the Erstham left end. It was a forlorn hope, and
+unfortunately Erstham was looking for it. Neil found his
+outlet blocked by his own interference, and was forced
+to run far out into the field. The play was a failure from
+the first. Erstham's big right half and an equally big
+line man tackled Neil simultaneously for a loss and threw
+him heavily.</p>
+
+<p>When they got off him Neil tried to arise, but, with a
+groan, subsided again on the turf. The whistle blew and
+Simson ran on. Neil was evidently suffering a good deal
+of pain, for his face was ashen and he rolled his head from
+side to side with eyes half closed. His right arm lay outstretched
+and without movement, and in an instant the
+trouble was found. Simson examined the injury quickly
+and called for the doctor, who probed Neil's shoulder with
+knowing fingers, while the latter's white face was being
+sopped with the dripping sponge.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Right shoulder's dislocated, Jim,&quot; said Dr. Prentiss
+quietly to the trainer. &quot;Take hold here; put your hands
+here, and pull toward you steadily. Now!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then Neil fainted.</p>
+
+<p>When he regained consciousness he was being borne
+from the field between four of his fellows. At the locker-house
+the injured shoulder was laid bare, and the doctor
+went to work.</p>
+
+<p>The pain had subsided, and only a queer soreness remained.
+Neil watched operations with interest, his face
+fast regaining its color.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nothing much, is it?&quot; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not a great deal. You've smashed your shoulder-blade
+a bit, and maybe torn a ligament. I'll fix you up in
+a minute.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Will it keep me from playing?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, for a while, my boy.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Bandage after bandage was swathed about the
+shoulder, and the arm was fixed in what Neil conceived
+to be the most unnatural and awkward position
+possible.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How long is this going to lay me up?&quot; he asked
+anxiously. But the doctor shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Can't tell yet. We'll see how you get along.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, a week?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Maybe.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Two?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Possibly.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But--but it can't! It mustn't!&quot; he cried. The
+door opened and Simson entered. &quot;Simson,&quot; he called,
+&quot;he says this may keep me laid up for two weeks. It
+won't, will it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I hope not, Fletcher. But you must get it well
+healed, or else it may go back on you again. Don't worry
+about--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't worry! But, great Scott, the Robinson game's
+only a month off!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The trainer patted his arm soothingly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I know, but we must make the best of it. It's hard
+lines, but the only thing to do is to take care of yourself
+and get well as soon as possible. The doc will get you out
+again as soon as it can be done, but you'll have to be doing
+your part, Fletcher, and keeping quiet and cheerful--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Cheerful!&quot; groaned Neil.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And getting strong. Now you're fixed and I'll go
+over to your room with you. How do you feel?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;All right, I suppose,&quot; replied Neil hopelessly.</p>
+
+<p>Simson walked beside him back to college and across
+the campus and the common to his room, and saw him
+installed in an easy-chair with a pillow behind the injured
+shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There you are,&quot; said the trainer. &quot;Prentiss will look
+in this evening and I'll see you in the morning. You'd
+better keep indoors for a few days, you know. I'll have
+your meals sent over. Don't worry about this, but keep
+yourself cheerful and--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil leaned his head against the pillow and closed his
+eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, go 'way,&quot; he muttered miserably.</p>
+
+<p>When Paul came in half an hour later he found Neil
+staring motionless out of the window, settled melancholy
+on his face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How bad is it, chum?&quot; asked Paul. He hadn't
+called Neil &quot;chum&quot; for over a week--not since their
+quarrel.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Bad enough to spoil my chances for the Robinson
+game,&quot; answered Neil bitterly. Paul gave vent to a low
+whistle.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;By Jove! I am sorry, old chap. That's beastly, isn't
+it? What does Prentiss say?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil told him and gained some degree of animation
+in fervid protestation against his fate. For want of another,
+he held the doctor to account for everything, only
+admitting Simson to an occasional share in the blame.
+Paul looked genuinely distressed, joining him in denunciation
+of Prentiss and uttering such bits of consolation as
+occurred to him. These generally consisted of such original
+remarks as &quot;Perhaps it won't be as bad as they
+think.&quot; &quot;I don't believe doctors know everything, after
+all.&quot; &quot;Mills will make them get you around before two
+weeks, I'll bet.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>After dinner Paul returned to report a state of general
+gloom at training-table.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Every one's awfully sorry and cut up about it, chum.
+Mills says he'll come and look you up in the morning, and
+told me to tell you to keep your courage up.&quot; After his
+information had given out, Paul walked restlessly about
+the study, taking up book after book only to lay it down
+again, and behaving generally like a fish out of water.
+Neil, grateful for the other's sympathy, and secretly delighted
+at the healing of the breach, could afford to be
+generous.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I say, Paul, I'll be all right. Just give me the
+immortal Livy, will you? Thanks. And you might put
+that tray out of the way somewhere and shove the drop-light
+a bit nearer. That's better. I'll be all right now;
+you run along.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Run along where?&quot; asked Paul.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, I thought maybe you were going out or--somewhere.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Paul's face expressed astonishment. He took up a
+book and settled himself firmly in the wicker rocking-chair.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No,&quot; he said, &quot;I'm not going anywhere.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil studied in silence a while, and Paul turned several
+pages of his book. Then footsteps sounded on the
+stairs and Cowan's voice hailed Paul from beyond the
+closed door.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;O Paul, are you coming along?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Paul glanced irresolutely from the door to Neil's face,
+which was bent calmly over his book. Then--&quot;No,&quot;
+he called gruffly, &quot;not to-night!&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2>
+
+<h3>SYDNEY STUDIES STRATEGY</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>Neil was holding a levee. Livingston shared the
+couch with him. Foster reclined in Paul's armchair.
+Sydney Burr sat in the protesting wicker rocker, his
+crutches beside him, and South, his countenance much disfigured
+by strips of surgeon's plaster, grinned steadily
+from the table, where he sat and swung his feet. Paul
+was up-stairs in Cowan's room, for while he and Neil had
+quite made up their difference, and while Paul spent much
+of his leisure time with his chum, yet he still cultivated
+the society of the big sophomore at intervals. Neil, however,
+believed he could discern a gradual lessening of
+Paul's regard for Cowan, and was encouraged. He had
+grown to look upon his injury and the idleness it enforced
+with some degree of cheerfulness since it had brought
+about reconciliation between him and his roommate, and,
+as he believed, rescued the latter to some extent from the
+influence of Cowan.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Doc says the shoulder is 'doing nicely,' whatever
+that may mean,&quot; Neil was saying, &quot;and that I will likely
+be able to get back to light work next week.&quot; The
+announcement didn't sound very joyful, for it was now only
+the evening of the fourth day since the accident, and
+&quot;next week&quot; seemed a long way off to him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It was hard luck, old man,&quot; said South.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Your sympathy's very dear to me,&quot; answered Neil,
+&quot;but it would seem more genuine if you'd stop grinning
+from ear to ear.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Can't,&quot; replied South. &quot;It's the plaster.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He's been looking like the Cheshire cat for two
+days,&quot; said Livingston. &quot;You see, when they patched
+him up they asked if he was suffering much agony, and he
+grinned that way just to show that he was a hero, and before
+he could get his face straight they had the plaster
+on. He gets credit for being much better natured than he
+really is.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Credit!&quot; said South. &quot;I get worse than that.
+'Sandy' saw me grinning at him in class yesterday and
+got as mad as a March hare; said I was 'deesrespectful.'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But how did it happen?&quot; asked Neil, struggling with
+his laughter.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Lacrosse,&quot; replied South. &quot;Murdoch was tending
+goal and I was trying to get the ball by him. I tripped
+over his stick and banged my face against a goal-iron.
+That's all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Seems to me it's enough,&quot; said Foster. &quot;What did
+you do to Murdoch?&quot; South opened his eyes in innocent
+surprise.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nothing.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nothing be blowed, my boy. Murdoch's limping to
+beat the band.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh!&quot; grinned South. &quot;That was afterward; he got
+mixed up with my stick, and, I fear, hurt his shins.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well,&quot; said Neil, when the laughter was over,
+&quot;football seems deadly enough, but I begin to think
+it's a parlor game for rainy evenings alongside of lacrosse.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There won't be many fellows left for the Robinson
+game,&quot; said Sydney, &quot;if they keep on getting hurt.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's so,&quot; Livingston concurred. &quot;Fletcher,
+White, Jewell, Brown, Stowell--who else?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, I'm not feeling well myself,&quot; said Foster.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We were referring to <i>players</i>, Teddy, my love,&quot;
+replied South sweetly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Insulted!&quot; cried Foster, leaping wildly to his feet.
+&quot;It serves me right for associating with a lot of freshmen.
+Good-night, Fletcher, my wounded gladiator. Get
+well and come back to us; all will be forgiven.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'd like the chance of forgiving the fellow that
+jumped on my shoulder,&quot; said Neil. &quot;I'd send him to
+join Murdoch.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's not nice,&quot; answered Foster gravely. &quot;Forgive
+your enemies. Good-night, you cubs.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hold on,&quot; said Livingston, &quot;I'm going your way.
+Good-night, Fletcher. Cheer up and get well. We need
+you and so does the team. Remember the class is looking
+forward to seeing you win a few touch-downs in the Robinson
+game.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, I'll be all right,&quot; answered Neil, &quot;and if they'll
+let me into the game I'll do my best. Only--I'm afraid
+I'll be a bit stale when I get out again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not you,&quot; declared Livingston heartily. &quot;'Age
+can not wither nor custom stale your infinite variety.'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's a quotation from--somebody,&quot; said South
+accusingly. &quot;'Fan' wants us to think he made it up.
+Besides, I don't think it's correct; it should be, 'Custom
+can not age nor wither stale your various interests.' Hold
+on, I'm not particular; I'll walk along with you two. But
+fortune send we don't meet the Dean,&quot; he continued, as
+he slid to the floor. &quot;I called on him Monday; a little
+affair of too many cuts; 'Mr. South,' said he sorrowfully,
+'avoid two things while in college--idleness and evil
+associations.' I promised, fellows, and here I am breaking
+that promise. Farewell, Fletcher; bear up under your
+great load of affliction. Good-night, Burr. Kindly see
+that he gets his medicine regularly every seven minutes,
+and don't let him sleep in a draft; pajamas are much
+warmer.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come on, you grinning idiot,&quot; said Foster.</p>
+
+<p>When the door had closed upon the three, Sydney
+placed his crutches under his arms and moved over to the
+chair beside the couch.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Look here, Neil, you don't really think, do you, that
+you'll have any trouble getting back into your place?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I hardly know. Of course two weeks of idleness
+makes a big difference. And besides, I'm losing a lot of
+practise. This new close-formation that Mills is teaching
+will be Greek to me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It's simple enough,&quot; said Sydney. &quot;The backs are
+bunched right up to the line, the halfs on each side of
+quarter, and the full just behind him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, but I don't see--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Wait,&quot; interrupted Sydney, &quot;I'll show you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He drew a folded sheet of paper from his pocket and
+passed it to the other. Neil scowled over it a moment,
+and then looked up helplessly.</p>
+
+<br><p class="ctr"><img src="images/illus-153.png" width="80%" alt=""></p><br>
+
+<p>&quot;What is it?&quot; he asked. &quot;Something weird in geometry?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No,&quot; laughed Sydney, &quot;it's a play from close-formation.
+I drew it this morning.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh,&quot; said Neil. &quot;Let's see; what--Here, explain
+it; where do I come in?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, your position is at the left of quarter, behind
+the center-guard, and a little farther back. Full stands
+directly behind quarter. See?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Pshaw! if we get into a crowd like that,&quot; said Neil,
+&quot;we'll get all tied up.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No you won't; not the way Mills and Devoe are
+teaching it. You see, the idea is to knife the backs
+through; there isn't any plunging to speak of and not
+much hurdling. The forwards open up a hole, and almost
+before the ball's well in play one of the backs is
+squirming through. Quarter gives you the ball at a hand-pass,
+always; there's no long passing done; except, of
+course, for a kick. Being right up to the line when
+play begins it only takes you a fraction of a second to
+hit it; and then, if the hole's there you're through
+before the other side has opened their eyes. Of
+course, it all depends on speed and the ability of the
+line-men to make holes. You've got to be on your
+toes, and you've got to get off them like a streak of
+lightning.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, maybe it's all right,&quot; said Neil doubtfully,
+&quot;but it looks like a mix-up. Who gets the ball in this play
+here?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Right half. Left half plunges through between left-guard
+and center to make a diversion. Full-back goes
+through between left tackle and end ahead of right half,
+who carries the ball. Quarter follows. Of course the play
+can be made around end instead. What do you think
+of it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;All right; but--I think I'd ought to have the
+ball.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You would when the play went to the right,&quot;
+laughed Sydney. &quot;The fact is, I--this particular play
+hasn't been used. I sort of got it up myself. I don't
+know whether it would be any good. I sometimes try my
+hand at inventing plays, just for fun, you know.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Really?&quot; exclaimed Neil. &quot;Well, you are smart.
+I could no more draw all those nice little cakes and pies
+and things than I could fly. And it--it looks plausible,
+I think. But I'm no authority on this sort of thing. Are
+you going to show it to Devoe?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, no; I dare say it's no use. It may be as old as
+the hills; I suppose it is. It's hard to find anything new
+nowadays in football plays.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But you don't know,&quot; said Neil. &quot;Maybe it's a
+good thing. I'll tell you, Syd, you let me have this, and
+I'll show it to Mills.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, I'd rather not,&quot; protested Sydney, reddening.
+&quot;Of course it doesn't amount to anything; I dare say
+he's thought of it long ago.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But maybe he hasn't,&quot; Neil persuaded. &quot;Come, let
+me show it to him, like a good chap.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well--But couldn't you let him think you did
+it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No; I'd be up a tree if he asked me to explain it.
+But don't you be afraid of Mills; he's a fine chap. Come
+and see me to-morrow night, will you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Sydney agreed, and, arising, swung himself across the
+study to where his coat and cap lay.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;By the way,&quot; he asked, &quot;where's Paul to-night?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He's calling on Cowan,&quot; answered Neil.</p>
+
+<p>Sydney looked as though he wanted to say something
+and didn't dare. Finally he found courage.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I should think he'd stay in his room now that you're
+laid up,&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, he does,&quot; answered Neil. &quot;Paul's all right,
+only he's a bit--careless. I guess I've humored him too
+much. Good-night. Don't forget to-morrow night.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mills called the following forenoon. Ever since
+Neil's accident he had made it his duty to inquire daily
+after him, and the two were getting very well acquainted.
+Neil likened Mills to a crab--rather crusty on the outside,
+he told himself, but all right when you got under the
+shell. Neil was getting under the shell.</p>
+
+<p>To-day, after Neil had reported on his state of health
+and spirits, he brought out Sydney's diagram. Mills examined
+it carefully, silently, for some time. Then he
+nodded his head.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not bad; rather clever. Who did it; you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, I couldn't if I was to be killed. Sydney Burr
+did it. Maybe you've seen him. A cripple; goes around
+on a tricycle.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, I've seen the boy. But does he--has he
+played?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Never; he's been a crip all his life.&quot; Mills opened
+his eyes in astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, if that's so this is rather wonderful. It's a
+good play, Fletcher, but it's not original; that is, not altogether.
+But as far as Burr's concerned it is, of course.
+Look here, the fellow ought to be encouraged. I'll see
+him and tell him to try his hand again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He's coming here this evening,&quot; said Neil. &quot;Perhaps
+you could look in for a moment?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will. Let me take this; I want Jones to see it.
+He thinks he's a wonder at diagrams,&quot; laughed Mills,
+&quot;and I want to tell him this was got up by a crippled
+freshman who has never kicked a ball!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And so that evening Mills and Neil and Sydney
+gathered about the big study-table and talked long about
+gridiron tactics and strategy and the art of inventing
+plays. Mills praised Sydney's production and encouraged
+him to try again.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But let me tell you first how we're situated,&quot; said
+the head coach, &quot;so that you will see just what we're
+after. Our material is good but light. Robinson will
+come into the field on the twenty-third weighing about
+eight pounds more to a man in the line and ten pounds
+more behind it. That's bad enough, but she's going to play
+tackle-back about the way we've taught the second eleven
+to play it. Her tackles will weigh about one hundred and
+eighty-five pounds each. She will take one of those men,
+range him up in front of our center-guard hole, and put
+two backs with him, tandem fashion. When that trio,
+joined by the other half and the quarter, hits our line
+it's going right through it--that is, unless we can find
+some means of stopping it. So far we haven't found that
+means. We've tried several things; we're still trying;
+but we haven't found the play we want.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If we're to win that game we've got to play on the
+defensive; we've got to stop tackle-back and rely on an
+end run now and then and lots of punting to get us within
+goal distance. Then our play is to score by a quick run or
+a field-goal. The offense we're working up--we'll call it
+close-formation for want of a better name--is, we think,
+the best we can find. The idea is to open holes quickly
+and jab a runner through before our heavier and necessarily
+slower opponents can concentrate their weight at
+the point of attack. For the close-formation we have, I
+think, plays covering every phase. And so, while a good
+offensive strategy will be welcome, yet what we stand in
+greatest need of is a play to stop Robinson's tackle-tandem.
+Now you apparently have ability in this line, Mr.
+Burr; and, what's more, you have the time to study the
+thing up. Supposing you try your hand and see what
+you can do. If you can find what we want--something
+that the rest of us can't find, by the way--you'll be doing
+as much, if not more, than any of us toward securing a
+victory over Robinson. And don't hesitate to come and
+see me if you find yourself in a quandary or whenever
+you've got anything to show.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And Sydney trundled himself back to his room and
+sat up until after midnight puzzling his brains over the
+tackle-tandem play, finally deciding that a better understanding
+of the play was necessary before he could hope
+to discover its remedy. When he crawled into bed and
+closed his tired eyes it was to see a confused jumble of
+orange-hued lines and circles running riot in the darkness.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2>
+
+<h3>MAKES A CALL</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>Despite Neil's absence from Erskine Field, preparation
+for the crowning conflict of the year went on with
+vigor and enthusiasm. The ranks of the coaches were
+swelled from day to day by patriotic alumni, some of
+whom were of real help, others of whom merely stood
+around in what Devoe called their &quot;store clothes&quot; and
+looked wonderfully wise. Some came to stay and took
+up quarters in the village, but the most merely tarried
+overnight, and, having unburdened themselves to Mills
+and Devoe of much advice, went away again, well pleased
+with their devotion to alma mater.</p>
+
+<p>The signals in use during the preliminary season had
+now been discarded in favor of the more complicated
+system prepared for the &quot;big game.&quot; Each day there
+was half an hour of secret practise behind closed gates,
+after which the assistant coaches emerged looking very
+wise and very solemn. The make-up of the varsity
+eleven had changed not a little since the game with
+Woodby, and was still being changed. Some positions
+were, however, permanently filled. For instance, Browning
+had firmly established his right to play left-guard,
+while the deposed Carey found a r&ocirc;le eminently suited
+to him at right tackle. Stowell became first choice for
+center, and the veteran Graham went over to the second
+team. Stone at left end, Tucker at left tackle, Devoe
+at right end, and Foster at quarter, were fixtures.</p>
+
+<p>The problem of finding a man for the position of
+left half in place of Neil had finally been solved by moving
+Paul over there from the other side and giving his
+place to Gillam, a last year substitute. Paul's style of
+play was very similar to Neil's. He was sure on his feet,
+a hard, fast runner, and his line-plunging was often brilliant
+and effective. The chief fault with him was that
+he was erratic. One day he played finely, the next so
+listlessly as to cause the coaches to shake their heads.
+His goal-kicking left something to be desired, but as yet
+he was as good in that line as any save Neil. Gillam,
+although light, was a hard line-bucker and a hurdler
+that was afraid of nothing. In fact he gave every indication
+of excelling Paul by the time the Robinson game
+arrived.</p>
+
+<p>One cause of Paul's uneven playing was the fact that
+he was worried about his studies. He was taking only the
+required courses, seven in all, making necessary an attendance
+of sixteen hours each week; but Greek and mathematics
+were stumbling-blocks, and he was in daily fear
+lest he find himself forbidden to play football. He knew
+well enough where the trouble lay; he simply didn't give
+enough time to study. But, somehow, what with the all-absorbing
+subject of making the varsity and the hundred
+and one things that took up his time, the hours remaining
+for &quot;grinding&quot; were all too few. He wondered how
+Neil, who seemed quite as busy as himself, managed to
+give so much time to books.</p>
+
+<p>In one of his weekly evening talks to the football
+men Mills had strongly counseled attention to study.
+There was no excuse, he had asserted, for any of the candidates
+shirking lessons.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;On the contrary, the fact that you are in training,
+that you are living with proper regard for sleep, good
+food, fresh air, and plenty of hard physical work, should
+and does make you able to study better. In my experience,
+I am glad to say, I have known not one football
+captain who did not stand among the first few in his class;
+and that same experience has proved to me that, almost
+without exception, students who go in for athletics are
+the best scholars. Healthful exercise and sensible living
+go hand in hand with scholarly attainment. I don't mean
+to say that every successful student has been an athlete,
+but I do say that almost every athlete has been a successful
+student. And now that we understand each other in
+this matter, none of you need feel any surprise if, should
+you get into difficulties with the faculty over your studies,
+I refuse, as I shall, to intercede in your behalf. I want
+men to deal with who are honest, hard-working athletes,
+and honest, hard-working students. My own experience
+and that of other coachers with whom I have talked,
+proves that the brilliant football player or crew man who
+sacrifices class standing for his athletic work may do for
+a while, but in the end is a losing investment.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And on top of that warning Paul had received one
+afternoon a printed postal card, filled in here and there
+with the pen, which was as follows:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Erskine College, <i>November 4, 1901</i>.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mr. Paul Gale.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Dear Sir: You are requested to call on the Dean,
+Tuesday, November 5th, during the regular office hours.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yours respectfully,</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ephraim Levett, <i>Dean</i>.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Paul obeyed the mandate with sinking heart. When
+he left the office it was with a sensation of intense relief
+and with a resolve to apply himself so well to his studies
+as to keep himself and the Dean thereafter on the merest
+bowing acquaintance. And he was, thus far, living up to
+his resolution; but as less than a week had gone by, perhaps
+his self-gratulation was a trifle early. It may be
+that Cowan also was forced to confer with the Dean at
+about that time, for he too showed an unusual application
+to text-books, and as a result he and Paul saw each other
+less frequently.</p>
+
+<p>On November 6th, one week after Neil's accident and
+just two weeks prior to the Robinson game, Erskine
+played Arrowden, and defeated her 11-0. Neil, however,
+did not witness that contest, for, at the invitation
+of and in company with Devoe, he journeyed to Collegetown
+and watched Robinson play Artmouth. Devoe had
+rather a bad knee, and was nursing it against the game
+with Yale at New Haven the following Saturday. Two
+of the coaches were also of the party, and all were eager to
+get an inkling of the plays that Robinson was going to
+spring on Erskine. But Robinson was reticent. Perhaps
+her coaches discovered the presence of the Erskine emissaries.
+However that may have been, her team used ordinary
+formations instead of tackle-back, and displayed
+none of the tricks which rumor credited her with having
+up her sleeve. But the Erskine party saw enough, nevertheless,
+to persuade them one and all that the Purple
+need only expect defeat, unless some way of breaking up
+the tackle-back play was speedily discovered. Robinson's
+line was heavy, and composed almost altogether of last
+year material. Artmouth found it well-nigh impregnable,
+and Artmouth's backs were reckoned good men.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If we had three more men in our line as heavy and
+steady as Browning, Cowan, and Carey,&quot; said Devoe,
+&quot;we might hope to get our backs through; but, as it is,
+they'll get the jump on us, I fear, and tear up our offense
+before it gets agoing.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The only course,&quot; answered one of the coaches, &quot;is
+to get to work and put starch into the line as well as we
+can, and to perfect the backs at kicking and running.
+Luckily that close-formation has the merit of concealing
+the point of attack until it's under way, and it's just possible
+that we'll manage to fool them.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And so Jones and Mills went to work with renewed
+vigor the next day. But the second team, playing tackle-back
+after the style of Robinson's warriors, was too much
+for any defense that the varsity could put up, and got
+its distance time after time. The coaches evolved and
+tried several plays designed to stop it, but none proved
+really successful.</p>
+
+<p>Neil returned to practise that afternoon, his right
+shoulder protected by a wonderful leather contrivance
+which was the cause of much good-natured fun. He
+didn't get near the line-up, however, but was allowed to
+take part in signal practise, and was then set to kicking
+goals from placement. If the reader will button his right
+arm inside his coat and try to kick a ball with accuracy
+he will gain some slight idea of the difficulty which embarrassed
+Neil. When work was over he felt as though he
+had been trying, he declared, to kick left-handed. But he
+met with enough success to demonstrate that, given opportunity
+for practise, one may eventually learn to kick goals
+minus anything except feet.</p>
+
+<p>That happened to be one of Paul's &quot;off days,&quot; and
+the way he played exasperated the coaches and alarmed
+him. He could not hide from himself the evident fact
+that Gillam was outplaying him five days a week. With
+the return of Neil, Paul expected to be ousted from the
+position of left half, and the question that worried him
+was whether he would in turn displace Gillam or be sent
+back to the second eleven. He was safe, however, for
+several days more, for Simson still laughed at Neil's demand
+to be put into the line-up, and he was determined
+that before the Yale game he would prove himself superior
+to Gillam.</p>
+
+<p>The following morning, Friday, Mills was seated at
+the desk in his room making out a list of players who
+were to participate in the Robinson game. According
+to the agreement between the rival colleges such lists
+were required to be exchanged not later than two weeks
+prior to the contest. The players had been decided upon
+the evening before by all the coaches in assembly, and
+his task this morning was merely to recopy the list before
+him. He had almost completed the work when he heard
+strange sounds outside his door. Then followed a knock,
+and, in obedience to his request, Sydney Burr pushed
+open the door and swung himself in on his crutches.</p>
+
+<p>The boy's face was alight with eagerness, and his eyes
+sparkled with excitement; there was even a dash of color
+in his usually pale cheeks. Mills jumped up and wheeled
+forward an easy-chair. But Sydney paid no heed to it.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mr. Mills,&quot; he cried exultantly, &quot;I think I've got
+it!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Got what?&quot; asked the coach.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The play we want,&quot; answered Sydney, &quot;the play
+that'll stop Robinson!&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2>
+
+<h3>AND TELLS OF A DREAM</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>Mills's face lighted up, and he stretched forth an
+eager hand.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good for you, Burr! Let's see it. Hold on,
+though; sit down here first and give me those sticks.
+There we are. Now fire ahead.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If you don't mind, I'd like to tell you all about it
+first, before I show you the diagram,&quot; said Sydney, his
+eyes dancing.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;All right; let's hear it,&quot; replied the head coach
+smiling.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well,&quot; began Sydney, &quot;it's been a puzzler. After
+I'd seen the second playing tackle-back I about gave up
+hopes of ever finding a--an antidote.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Antidote's' good,&quot; commented Mills laughingly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I tried all sorts of notions,&quot; continued Sydney, &quot;and
+spoiled whole reams of paper drawing diagrams. But it
+was all nonsense. I had the right idea, though, all the
+time; I realized that if that tandem was going to be
+stopped it would have to be stopped before it hit our line.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mills nodded.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I had the idea, as I say, but I couldn't apply it.
+And that's the way things stood last night when I went
+to bed. I had sat up until after eleven and had used up
+all the paper I had, and so when I got into bed I saw
+diagrams all over the place and had an awful time to get
+to sleep. But at last I did. And then I dreamed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And in the dream I was playing football. That's
+the first time I ever played it, and I guess it'll be the last.
+I was all done up in sweaters and things until I couldn't
+do much more than move my arms and head. It seemed
+that we were in 9 Grace Hall, only there was grass
+instead of floor, and it was all marked out like a gridiron.
+And everybody was there, I guess; the President and the
+Dean, and you and Mr. Jones, and Mr. Preston and--and
+my mother. It was awfully funny about my mother.
+She kept sewing more sweaters on to me all the time,
+because, as she said, the more I had on the less likely I
+was to get hurt. And Devoe was there, and he was saying
+that it wasn't fair; that the football rules distinctly
+said that players should wear only one sweater. But
+nobody paid any attention to him. And after a bit, when
+I was so covered with sweaters that I was round, like a
+big ball, the Dean whistled and we got into line--that
+is,&quot; said Sydney doubtfully, &quot;it was sort of like a line.
+There was the President and Neil Fletcher and I on one
+side, and all the others, at least thirty of them, on the
+other. It didn't seem quite fair, but I didn't like to
+object for fear they'd say I was afraid.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, you <i>did</i> have the nightmare,&quot; said Mills.
+&quot;Then what?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The other side got into a bunch, and I knew they
+were playing tackle-back, although of course they weren't
+really; they just all stood together. And I didn't see any
+ball, either. Then some one yelled 'Smash 'em up!' and
+they started for us. At that Neil--at least I think it was
+Neil--and Prexy--I mean the President--took hold of
+me, lifted me up like a bag of potatoes, and hurled me
+right at the other crowd. I went flying through the air,
+turning round and round and round, till I thought I'd
+never stop. Then there was an awful bump, I yelled
+'Down!' at the top of my lungs--and woke up. I was
+on the floor.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mills laughed, and Sydney took breath.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;At first I didn't know what had happened. Then I
+remembered the dream, and all on a sudden, like a flash
+of lightning, it occurred to me that <i>that</i> was the way to
+stop tackle-back!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That? What?&quot; asked Mills, looking puzzled.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, the bag of potatoes act,&quot; laughed Sydney.
+&quot;I jumped up, lighted the gas, got pencil and paper
+and went back to bed and worked it out. And here
+it is.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He drew a carefully folded slip of paper from his
+pocket and handed it across to Mills. The diagram, just
+as the head coach received it, is reproduced here.</p>
+
+<br><p class="ctr"><img src="images/illus-171.png" width="80%" alt=""></p><br>
+
+<p>Mills studied it for a minute in silence; once he
+grunted; once he looked wonderingly up at Sydney. In
+the end he laid it beside him on the desk.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think you've got it, Burr,&quot; he said quietly, &quot;I
+think you've got it, my boy. If this works out the way it
+should, your nightmare will be the luckiest thing that's
+happened at Erskine for several years. Draw your chair
+up here--I beg your pardon; I forgot. I'll do the moving
+myself.&quot; He placed his own chair beside Sydney's
+and handed the diagram to him. &quot;Now just go over this,
+will you; tell me just what your idea is.&quot;</p>
+
+<br>
+<a name="illus-152.jpg"></a>
+<p class="ctr"><a href="images/illus-152.jpg">
+<img src="images/illus-152.jpg" width="50%" alt=""></a><br>
+<b>Mills studied the diagram in silence.</b></p>
+<br>
+
+<p>Sydney, still excited over the night's happenings, drew
+a ready pencil from his pocket, and began rather breathlessly:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I've placed the Robinson players in the positions
+that our second team occupies for the tackle-tandem.
+Full-back, left tackle, and right half, one behind the
+other, back of their guard-tackle hole. Now, as the ball
+goes into play their tandem starts. Quarter passes the
+ball to tackle, or maybe right half, and they plunge
+through our line. That's what they would do if we
+couldn't stop them, isn't it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They would, indeed,&quot; answered Mills grimly.
+&quot;About ten yards through our line!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, now we place our left half in our line between
+our guard and tackle, and put our full-back
+behind him, making a tandem of our own. Quarter
+stands almost back of guard, and the other half over
+here. When the ball is put in play our tandem starts
+at a jump and hits the opposing tandem just at the
+moment their quarter passes the ball to their runner.
+In other words, we get through on to them before they
+can get under way. Our quarter and right half follow
+up, and, unless I'm away off on my calculations, that
+tackle-tandem is going to stop on its own side of the
+line.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Sydney paused and awaited Mills's opinion. The
+latter was silent a moment. Then--</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Of course,&quot; he said, &quot;you've thought of what's
+going to happen to that left half?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; answered Sydney, &quot;I have. He's going to get
+most horribly banged up. But he's going to stop the
+play.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, I think he is--if he lives,&quot; said Mills with a
+grim smile. &quot;The only objection that occurs to me this
+moment is this: Have we the right to place any player
+in a position like this where the punishment is certain to
+be terrific, if not absolutely dangerous?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I've thought of that, too,&quot; answered Sydney readily.
+&quot;And I don't believe we--er--you have.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, then I think our play's dished at the start.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, not a bit, sir. Call the players up, explain
+the thing to them, and tell them you want a man for that
+position.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah, ask for volunteers, eh?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, sir. And you'll have just as many, I'll bet, as
+there are men!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mills smiled.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, it's a desperate remedy, but I believe it's the
+only one, and we'll see what can be done. By the way,
+I observe that you've taken left half for the victim?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, sir; that's Neil Fletcher. He's the fellow for
+it, I think.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But I thought he was a friend of yours,&quot; laughed
+Mills.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;So he is; that's why I want him to get it; he won't
+ask anything better. And he's got the weight and the
+speed. The fellow that undertakes it has got to be mighty
+quick, and he's got to have weight and plenty of grit.
+And that's Neil.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, I think so too. But I don't want him to get
+used up and not be able to kick, for we'll need a field-goal
+before the game is over, if I'm not greatly mistaken.
+However, we can find a man for that place, I've no doubt.
+For that matter, we must find two at least, for one will
+never last the game through.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I suppose not. I--I wish I had a chance at it,&quot; said
+Sydney longingly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I wish you had,&quot; said Mills. &quot;I think you'd stand
+all the punishment Robinson would give you. But don't
+feel badly that you can't play; as long as you can teach
+the rest of us the game you've got honor enough.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Sydney flushed with pleasure, and Mills took up the
+diagram again.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Guard and tackle will have their work cut out for
+them,&quot; he said. &quot;And I'm not sure that left end can't
+be brought into it, too. There's one good feature about
+Robinson's formation, and that is we can imagine where
+it's coming as long as it's a tandem. If we stop them
+they'll have to try the ends, and I don't think they'll make
+much there. Well, we'll give this a try to-morrow, and
+see how it works. By the way, Burr,&quot; he went on, &quot;you
+can get about pretty well on your crutches, can't you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; Sydney answered.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good. Then what's to prevent you from coming out
+to the field in the afternoons and giving us a hand with
+this? Do you think you could afford the time?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Sydney's eyes dropped; he didn't want Mills to see
+how near the tears were to his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I can afford the time all right,&quot; he answered in a
+voice that, despite his efforts, was not quite steady, &quot;if
+you really think I can be of any use.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps Mills guessed the other's pleasure, for he
+smiled gently as he answered:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't think; I'm certain. You know this play
+better than I do; it's yours; you know how you want it
+to go. You come out and look after the play; we'll
+attend to the players. And then, if we find a weak place
+in it, we can all get together and remedy it. But you
+oughtn't to try and wheel yourself out there and back
+every day. You tell me what time you can be ready
+each afternoon and I'll see that there's a buggy waiting
+for you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, no, really!&quot; Sydney protested. &quot;I'd rather
+not! I can get to the field and back easily, without getting
+at all tired; in fact, I need the exercise.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, if you're certain of that,&quot; answered the coach.
+&quot;But any time you change your mind, or the weather's
+bad, let me know. If you can, I'd like you to come
+around here again this evening. I'll have Devoe and the
+coaches here, and we'll talk this--this 'antidote' over
+again. Well, good-by.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Sydney swung himself to the door, followed by Mills,
+and got into his tricycle.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;About eight this evening, if you can make it, Burr,&quot;
+said Mills. &quot;Good-by.&quot; He stood at the door and
+watched the other as he trundled slowly down the street.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Poor chap!&quot; he muttered. And then: &quot;Still, I'm
+not so sure that he's an object of pity. If he hasn't any
+legs worth mentioning, the Almighty made it up to him
+by giving him a whole lot of brains. If he can't get about
+like the rest of us he's a great deal more contented, I
+believe, and if he can't play football he can show others
+how to. And,&quot; he added, as he returned to his desk, &quot;unless
+I'm mistaken, he's done it to-day. Now to mail this
+list and then for the 'antidote'!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>That night in Mills's room the assembled coaches and
+captain talked over Sydney's play, discussed it from start
+to finish, objected, explained, argued, tore it to pieces
+and put it together again, and in the end indorsed it.
+And Sydney, silent save when called on for an explanation
+of some feature of his discovery, sat with his crutches
+beside his chair and listened to many complimentary remarks;
+and at ten o'clock went back to Walton and bed,
+only to lie awake until long after the town-clock had
+struck midnight, excited and happy.</p>
+
+<p>Had you been at Erskine at any time during the
+following two weeks and had managed to get behind the
+fence, you would have witnessed a very busy scene. Day
+after day the varsity and the second fought like the bitterest
+enemies; day after day the little army of coaches
+shouted and fumed, pleaded and scolded; and day after
+day a youth on crutches followed the struggling, panting
+lines, instructing and criticizing, and happier than he had
+been at any time in his memory.</p>
+
+<p>For the &quot;antidote,&quot; as they had come to call it, had
+been tried and had vindicated its inventor's faith in it.
+Every afternoon the second team hammered the varsity
+line with the tackle-tandem, and almost every time the
+varsity stopped it and piled it up in confusion. The call
+for volunteers for the thankless position at the front of
+the little tandem of two had resulted just as Sydney
+had predicted. Every candidate for varsity honors had
+begged for it, and some half dozen or more had been
+tried. But in the end the choice had narrowed down
+to Neil, Paul, Gillam, and Mason, and these it was that
+day after day bore the brunt of the attack, emerging
+from each pile-up beaten, breathless, scarred, but happy
+and triumphant. Two weeks is short time in which to
+teach a new play, but Mills and the others went bravely
+and confidently to work, and it seemed that success was
+to justify the attempt; for three days before the Robinson
+game the varsity had at last attained perfection in
+the new play, and the coaches dared at last to hope for
+victory.</p>
+
+<p>But meanwhile other things, pleasant and unpleasant,
+had happened, and we must return to the day which had
+witnessed the inception of Sydney Burr's &quot;antidote.&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h2>
+
+<h3>ROBINSON SENDS A PROTEST</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>When Sydney left Mills that morning he trundled
+himself along Elm Street to Neil's lodgings in the hope
+of finding that youth and telling him of his good fortune.
+But the windows of the first floor front study
+were wide open, the curtains were hanging out over the
+sills, and from within came the sound of the broom and
+clouds of dust. Sydney turned his tricycle about in disappointment
+and retraced his path, through Elm Lane, by
+the court-house with its tall white pillars and green shutters,
+across Washington Street, the wheels of his vehicle
+rustling through the drifts of dead leaves that lined the
+sidewalks, and so back to Walton. He had a recitation
+at half-past ten, but there was still twenty minutes of
+leisure according to the dingy-faced clock on the tower
+of College Hall. So he left the tricycle by the steps,
+and putting his crutches under his arms, swung himself
+into the building and down the corridor to his
+study. The door was ajar and he thrust it open with
+his foot.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Please be careful of the paint,&quot; expostulated a
+voice, and Sydney paused in surprise.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well,&quot; he said; &quot;I've just been over to your room
+looking for you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Have you? Sorry I wasn't--Say, Syd, listen to
+this.&quot; Neil dragged a pillow into a more comfortable
+place and sat up. He had been stretched at full length
+on the big window-seat. &quot;Here it is in a nutshell,&quot; he
+continued, waving the paper he was reading.</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+&quot;'First a signal, then a thud,<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;And your face is in the mud.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Some one jumps upon your back,<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;And your ribs begin to crack.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Hear a whistle. &quot;Down!&quot; That's all.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;'Tis the way to play football.'&quot;<br>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>&quot;Pretty good, eh? Hello, what's up? Your face
+looks as bright as though you'd polished it. How dare
+you allow your countenance to express joy when in another
+quarter of an hour I shall be struggling over my
+head in the history of Rome during the second Punic
+War? But there, go ahead; unbosom yourself. I can
+see you're bubbling over with delightful news. Have
+they decided to abolish the Latin language? Or has
+the faculty been kidnaped? Have they changed their
+minds and decided to take me with 'em to New
+Haven to-morrow? Come, little Bright Eyes, out
+with it!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Sydney told his good news, not without numerous
+eager interruptions from Neil, and when he had ended
+the latter executed what he called a &quot;Punic war-dance.&quot;
+It was rather a striking performance, quite stately and
+impressive, for when one's left shoulder is made immovable
+by much bandaging it is difficult, as Neil breathlessly
+explained, to display <i>abandon</i>--the latter spoken
+through the nose to give it the correct French pronunciation.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And, if you're not good to me,&quot; laughed Sydney,
+&quot;I'll get back at you in practise. And I'm to be treated
+with respect, also, Neil; in fact, I believe you had better
+remove your cap when you see me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;All right, old man; cap--sweater--anything! You
+shall be treated with the utmost deference. But seriously,
+Syd, I'm awfully glad. Glad all around; glad
+you've made a hit with the play, and glad you've found
+something to beat Robinson with. Now tell me again
+about it; where do I come in on it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And so Sydney drew a chair up to the table and
+drew more diagrams of the new play, and Neil looked
+on with great interest until the bell struck the half-hour,
+and they hurried away to recitations.</p>
+
+<p>The next day the varsity and substitutes went to New
+Haven. Neil wasn't taken along, and so when the result
+of the game reached the college--Yale 40, Erskine 0--he
+was enabled to tell Sydney that it was insanity for
+Mills and Devoe to expect to do anything without his
+(Neil's) services.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If they will leave me behind, Syd, what can they
+hope for save rout and disaster? Of course, I realize
+that I could not have played, but my presence on the
+side-line would have inspired them and have been very,
+very helpful. I'm sure the score would have been quite
+different, Syd.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; laughed the other; &quot;say fifty to nothing.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Your levity and disrespect pains me,&quot; mourned
+Neil.</p>
+
+<p>But despite the overwhelming nature of the defeat,
+Mills and Devoe and the associate coaches found much
+to encourage them. No attempt had been made to try
+the new defensive play, but Erskine had managed to
+make her distance several times. The line had proved
+steady and had borne the severe battering of the Yale
+backs without serious injury. The Purple's back-field
+had played well; Paul had been in his best form, Gillam
+had gained ground quite often through Yale's wings, and
+Mason, at full-back, had fought nobly. The ends had
+proved themselves quick and speedy in getting down
+under punts, and several of the Blue's tries around end
+had been nipped ingloriously in the bud. But, when all
+was said, the principal honors of the contest had fallen
+to Ted Foster, Erskine's plucky quarter, whose handling
+of the team had been wonderful, and whose catching and
+running back of punts had more than once turned the
+tide of battle. On the whole, Erskine had put up a
+good, fast, well-balanced game; had displayed plenty of
+grit, had shown herself well advanced in team-play, and
+had emerged practically unscathed from a hard-fought
+contest.</p>
+
+<p>On Monday Neil went into the line-up for a few
+minutes, displacing Paul at left-half, but did not form
+one of the heroic tandem. His shoulder bothered him a
+good deal for the first minute or two, but after he had
+warmed up to the work he forgot about it and banged
+it around so that Simson was obliged to remonstrate and
+threaten to take him out. On the second's twenty yards
+Neil was given a chance at a goal from placement, and,
+in spite of his right shoulder, and to the delight of the
+coaches, sent the leather over the bar. When he turned
+and trotted back up the field he almost ran over Sydney,
+who was hobbling blithely about the gridiron on his
+crutches.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Whoa!&quot; cried Neil. &quot;Back up! Hello, Board of
+Strategy; how do you find yourself?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That was fine, Neil,&quot; said Sydney.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That goal.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Glad you liked it. I was beastly nervous,&quot; he
+laughed. &quot;Had no idea I could do it. It's so different
+trying goals in a game; when you're just off practising it
+doesn't seem to bother you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, you'll do. Gale is growling like a bear because
+they took him out.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Is he?&quot; asked Neil. &quot;I'm sorry. Do you know
+whether he stands a good show for the game? Have you
+heard Mills or Devoe say anything about it?&quot; Sydney
+shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm afraid Gillam's got us both boxed,&quot; continued
+Neil. &quot;As for me, I suppose they'll let me in because
+I can sometimes kick a goal, but I'm worried about Paul.
+If he'd only--Farewell, they are lining up again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't believe Gale will get into the Robinson
+game,&quot; thought Sydney as he took himself toward the
+side-line. &quot;He seems a good player, but--but you never
+can tell what he's going to do; half the time he just sort
+of slops around and looks as though he was doing a favor
+by playing. I can't see why Neil likes him so well; I
+suppose it's because he's so different. Maybe he's a
+better sort when you know him real well.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>After practise was ended and the riotous half-hour in
+the locker-house was over, Neil found himself walking
+back to the campus with Sydney and Paul. Paul entertained
+a half-contemptuous liking for Sydney. To Neil
+he called him &quot;the crip,&quot; but when in Sydney's presence
+was careful never to say anything to wound the boy's
+feelings--an act of consideration rather remarkable for
+Paul, who, while really kind at heart, was oftentimes
+careless about the sensibilities of others. This afternoon
+Paul was evidently downcast, too downcast to be even
+cross.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, I guess it's all up with me,&quot; he said as they
+passed through the gate and started down Williams Street
+toward college. &quot;I'm glad you're back, chum, but I can
+see my finish.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nonsense,&quot; said Neil, &quot;you'll be back to-morrow.
+Gillam is putting up a star game, and that's a fact; but
+your weight will help you, and if you buckle down for
+the next few days you'll make it all right.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But Paul refused to be comforted and remained silent
+and gloomy all the way home. Knowing how Paul had
+set his heart upon making the varsity for the Robinson
+game, Neil began to be rather worried himself. He felt,
+unnecessarily of course, in a measure responsible for the
+crowning of his friend's ambition. When he had prevailed
+on Paul to relinquish the idea of going to Robinson,
+he had derided the possibility of Paul failing to
+make the Erskine team; and now that possibility was
+rapidly assuming the appearance of a probability. Certainly
+the fault was Paul's, and not his; but the thought
+contained small comfort.</p>
+
+<p>Next day's practise, in preparation for Erskine's last
+game before the Robinson contest, proved Paul's fears
+far from groundless. Gillam, Neil, and Mason started
+work when the line-up was formed, and Paul looked on
+heart-brokenly from the bench. It was not until Neil
+had failed twice and succeeded once at field-goals, and
+Gillam had been well hammered by the second's tandem
+plays, that Paul secured a chance. Then Neil was taken
+out and his friend put in.</p>
+
+<p>Neil wrapped a frayed gray blanket about his shoulders
+and reflected ruefully upon events. He knew that
+he had played poorly; that he had twice tied up the
+play by allowing his thoughts to wander; that his end-running
+had been slow, almost listless, and that his performance
+at goal-kicking had been miserable. He had
+missed two tries from placement, one on the twenty yards
+and another on the twenty-seven, and had only succeeded
+at a drop-kick by the barest of margins. He couldn't
+even lay the blame on his injured shoulder, for that was
+no longer a factor in his playing; the bandages were off
+and only a leather pad remained to remind him of the
+incident. No, he had simply worried his stupid head
+over Paul's troubles, he told himself, and had thereby
+disappointed the coaches, the captain, and himself. Simson
+found him presently and sent him trotting about the
+field, an exercise that worked some of his gloom off and
+left him in a fairly cheerful frame of mind when he ran
+up the locker-house steps.</p>
+
+<p>But at dinner he found that his appetite had almost
+deserted him. Simson observed him gravely, and after
+the meal was over questioned closely. Neil answered
+rather irritably, and the trainer's uneasiness increased;
+but he only said:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Go to bed early to-night and lay off to-morrow.
+You'll be better by Monday. And you might take a
+walk to-morrow afternoon; go off into the country somewhere;
+see if you can't find some one to go with you.
+How's the shoulder? No trouble there, is there?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, there's no trouble anywhere; I just wasn't
+hungry.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, you do what I've told you and you'll get your
+appetite back, my boy.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil turned away frowning and took himself to his
+lodging, feeling angry with Simson because he was going
+to keep him off the field, and angry with himself because--oh,
+just because he was.</p>
+
+<p>But Neil was not the only person concerned with
+Erskine athletics who was out of sorts that night. A
+general air of gloom had pervaded the dinner-table.
+Mills had been even silenter than usual; the three other
+coaches present had been plainly worried, and Simson,
+in spite of his attempts to keep the conversation cheerful,
+had showed that he too was bothered about something.
+A bomb-shell had landed in the Erskine camp
+and had exploded in Mills's quarters.</p>
+
+<p>On the front steps Neil met Cowan. The two always
+nodded to each other, but to-night Neil's curt salutation
+went unheeded. Cowan, with troubled face, hurried by
+him and went up the street toward Mills's rooms.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Every one's grouchy to-night,&quot; muttered Neil.
+&quot;Even Cowan looks as though he was going to be shot.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile the athletic authorities of Erskine and
+the coaches were met in extraordinary session. They
+were considering a letter which had arrived that afternoon
+from Collegetown. In the letter Robinson announced
+her protest of Thomas L. Cowan, right-guard on
+the Erskine football team, on the score of professionalism.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It just means,&quot; wailed Foster, who had brought the
+tidings to Neil and Paul, &quot;that it's all over with us. I
+don't know what Cowan has to say, but I'll bet a--I'll
+bet my new typewriter!--that Robinson's right. And
+with Cowan gone from right-guard, where are we? We
+haven't the ghost of a show. The only fellow they can
+play in his place is Witter, and he's a pygmy. Not that
+Witter doesn't know the position, for he does; but he's
+too light. Was there ever such luck? What good is
+Burr's patent, double-action, self-inking, cylindrical,
+switch-back defense if we haven't got a line that will hold
+together long enough for us to get off our toes? It--it's
+rotten luck, that's what it is.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And the varsity quarter-back groaned dolorously.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But what does Cowan say?&quot; asked Neil.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't ask me,&quot; said Foster. &quot;I don't know what
+he says, and I don't believe it will matter. He's got professional
+written all over his face.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But he played last year,&quot; said Paul. &quot;Why didn't
+they protest him then?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'll pass again,&quot; answered Foster. &quot;Maybe they
+hadn't discovered it--whatever it is--then; maybe--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Listen!&quot; said Neil.</p>
+
+<p>Some one stamped up the steps and entered the front
+door. Foster looked questioningly at Neil.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Cowan?&quot; he whispered. Neil nodded.</p>
+
+<p>Foster sprang to the study door and threw it open.
+The light from the room fell on the white and angry
+countenance of the right-guard.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Cowan,&quot; said Foster, &quot;for heaven's sake, man, tell
+us about it! Is it all right?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But Tom Cowan only glared as he passed on up the
+stairs.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII</h2>
+
+<h3>A PLAN AND A CONFESSION</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>Robinson's protest set forth succinctly that Cowan had,
+three years previous, played left tackle on the football
+team of a certain academy--whose right to the title of
+academy was often questioned--and had received money
+for his services. Dates and other particulars were liberally
+supplied, and the name and address of the captain
+of the team were given. Altogether, the letter was discouragingly
+convincing, and neither the coaches, the captain,
+nor the athletic officers really doubted the truth of
+the charge.</p>
+
+<p>Professor Nast, the chairman of the Athletic Committee,
+blinked gravely through his glasses and looked
+about the room.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You've sent for Mr. Cowan?&quot; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; Mills answered; &quot;he ought to be here in a
+minute. How in the world was he allowed to get on to
+the team?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, his record was gone over, as we believed, very
+thoroughly year before last,&quot; said Professor Nast; &quot;and
+we found nothing against him. I think--ah--it seems
+probable that he unintentionally misled us. Perhaps he
+can--ah--explain.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>When, however, Cowan faced the group of grave-faced
+men it was soon evident that explanations were
+far from his thoughts. He had heard enough before the
+summons reached him to enable him to surmise what
+awaited him, and when Professor Nast explained their
+purpose in calling him before them, Cowan only displayed
+what purported to be honest indignation. He
+stormed violently against the Robinson authorities
+and defied them to prove their charge. Mills listened
+a while impatiently and then interrupted him
+abruptly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you deny the charge, Cowan, or don't you?&quot;
+he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I refuse to reply to it,&quot; answered Cowan angrily.
+&quot;Let them think what they want to; I'm not responsible
+to them. It's all revenge, nothing else. They tried to
+get me to go to them last September; offered me free
+coaching, and guaranteed me a position on the team. I
+refused. And here's the result.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Professor Nast brightened and a few of those present
+looked relieved. But Mills refused to be touched by
+Cowan's righteousness, and asked brusquely:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Never mind what their motive is, Cowan. What
+we want to know is this: Did you or did you not accept
+money for playing left tackle on that team? Let us have
+an answer to that, please.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It's absurd,&quot; said Cowan hotly. &quot;Why, I only
+played three games--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes or no, please,&quot; said Mills.</p>
+
+<p>For an instant Cowan's gaze faltered. He glanced
+swiftly about the room and read only doubt or antagonism
+in the faces there. He shrugged his broad shoulders
+and replied sneeringly:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What's the good? You're all down on me now;
+you wouldn't believe me if I told you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We're not all down on you,&quot; answered Mills. Professor
+Nast interrupted.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;One moment, Mr. Mills. I don't think Mr. Cowan
+understands the--ah--the position we are in. Unless
+you can show to our satisfaction that the charge is untrue,
+Mr. Cowan, we shall be obliged, under the terms
+of our agreement with Robinson, to consider you ineligible.
+In that case, you could not, of course, play against
+Robinson; in fact, you would not be admitted to any
+branch of university athletics. Now, don't you think
+that the best course for you to follow is to make a
+straightforward explanation of your connection with the
+academy in question? We are not here to judge the--ah--ethics
+of your course; only to decide as to whether
+or no you are eligible to represent the college in
+athletics.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Cowan arose from his seat and with trembling fingers
+buttoned his overcoat. His brow was black, but when
+he spoke, facing the head coach and heedless of the rest,
+he appeared quite cool.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ever since practise began,&quot; he said, &quot;you have been
+down on me and have done everything you could to get
+rid of me. No matter what I did, it wasn't right.
+Whether I'm eligible or ineligible, I'm done with you
+now. You may fill my place--if you can; I'm out of it.
+You'll probably be beaten; but that's your affair. If
+you are, I sha'n't weep over it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He walked to the door and opened it.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It's understood, I guess, that I've resigned from
+the team?&quot; he asked, facing Mills once more.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Quite,&quot; said the latter dryly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;All right. And now I don't mind telling you that
+I did get paid for playing with that team. I played
+three games and took money every time. It isn't a
+crime and I'm not ashamed of it, although to hear you
+talk you'd think I'd committed murder. Good-night,
+gentlemen.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He passed out. Professor Nast blinked nervously.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Dear me,&quot; he murmured, &quot;dear me, how unpleasant!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mills smiled grimly, and, rising, stretched his limbs.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think what we have left to do won't take very
+long. I hardly think that it is necessary for me to reply
+to the accusations brought by the gentleman who has
+just left us.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, let's hear no more of it,&quot; said Preston. &quot;I
+propose that we reply to Robinson to-night and have an
+end of the business. To-morrow we'll have plenty to
+think of without this,&quot; he added grimly.</p>
+
+<p>The reply was written and forwarded the next day
+to Robinson, and the following announcement was given
+out at Erskine:</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+The Athletic Committee has decided that Cowan
+is not eligible to represent the college in the football
+game with Robinson, and he has been withdrawn. A
+protest was received from the Robinson athletic authorities
+yesterday afternoon, and an investigation was at
+once made with the result stated. The loss of Cowan
+will greatly weaken the team, it is feared, but that fact
+has not been allowed to influence the committee. The
+decision is heartily concurred in by the coaches, the captain,
+and all officials, and, being in line with Erskine's
+policy of purity in athletics, should have the instant
+indorsement of the student body.<br>
+<br>
+H.W. NAST, <i>Chairman</i>.<br>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>The announcement, as was natural, brought consternation,
+and for several days the football situation
+was steeped in gloom. Witter and Hurst were seized
+upon by the coaches and drilled in the tactics of right-guard.
+As Foster had said, Witter, while he was a good
+player, was light for the position. Hurst, against whom
+no objection could be brought on the ground of weight,
+lacked experience. In the end Witter proved first choice,
+and Hurst was comforted with the knowledge that he
+was practically certain to get into the game before the
+whistle sounded for the last time.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile Artmouth came and saw and conquered
+to the tune of 6-0, profiting by the news of Cowan's
+withdrawal and piling their backs through Witter, Hurst,
+and Brown, all of whom took turns at right-guard. The
+game was not encouraging from the Erskine point of
+view, and the gloom deepened. Foster declared that it
+was so thick during the last half of the contest that he
+couldn't see the backs. Neil saw the game from the
+bench, and Paul, once more at left-half, played an excellent
+game; but, try as he might, could not outdo Gillam.
+When it was over Neil declared the honors even, but
+Paul took a less optimistic view and would not be
+comforted.</p>
+
+<p>All the evening, save for a short period when he
+went upstairs to sympathize with Cowan, he bewailed
+his fate into Neil's ears. The latter tried his best to comfort
+him, and predicted that on Monday Paul would
+find himself in Gillam's place. But he scarcely believed
+it himself, and so his prophecies were not convincing.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What's the good of being decent?&quot; asked Paul dolefully.
+&quot;I wish I'd gone to Robinson.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, you don't,&quot; said Neil. &quot;You'd rather sit on
+the side-line at Erskine than play with a lot of hired
+sluggers.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Much you know about it,&quot; Paul growled. &quot;If I
+don't get into the Robinson game I'll--I'll leave college.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But what good would that do?&quot; asked Neil.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'd go somewhere where I'd stand a show. I'd go
+to Robinson or one of the smaller places.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't think you'd do anything as idiotic as that,&quot;
+answered Neil. &quot;It'll be hard luck if you miss the big
+game, but you've got three more years yet. What's
+one? You're certain to stand the best kind of a show
+next year.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't see how. Gillam doesn't graduate until
+1903.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But you can beat him out for the place next
+year. All you need is more experience. Gillam's been
+at it two years here. Besides, it would be silly to leave
+a good college just because you couldn't play on the football
+team. Don't be like Cowan and think football's
+the only thing a chap comes here for.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They've used him pretty shabbily,&quot; said Paul.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's what Cowan thinks. I don't see how they
+could do anything else.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He's awfully cut up. I'm downright sorry for him.
+He says he's going to pack up and leave.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And he's been trying to make you do the same,
+eh?&quot; asked Neil. &quot;Well, you tell him I'm very well
+satisfied with Erskine and haven't the least desire to
+change.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You?&quot; asked Paul.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Certainly. We hang together, don't we?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Paul grinned.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You're a good chap, chum,&quot; he said gratefully.
+&quot;But--&quot; relapsing again into gloom--&quot;you're not losing
+your place on the team, and you don't know how it feels.
+When a fellow's set his heart on it--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think I do know,&quot; answered Neil. &quot;I know how
+I felt when my shoulder went wrong and I thought I
+was off for good and all. I didn't like it. But cheer
+up, Paul, and give 'em fits Monday. Slam 'round, let
+yourself loose; show 'em what you can do. Down with
+Gillam!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, I dare say,&quot; muttered Paul dejectedly.</p>
+
+<p>Neil laid awake a long time that night; he was full
+of sympathy for his room-mate. With him friendship
+meant more than it does to the average boy of nineteen,
+and he was ready and eager to do anything in his power
+that would insure Paul's getting into the Robinson game.
+The trouble was that he could think of nothing, although
+he lay staring into the darkness, thinking and thinking,
+until Paul had been snoring comfortably across the room
+for more than an hour.</p>
+
+<p>The next afternoon, Sunday, Neil, obeying the trainer's
+instructions, went for a walk. Paul begged off from
+accompanying him, and Neil sought Sydney. That youth
+was delighted to go, and so, Neil alternately pushing
+the tricycle and walking beside it while Sydney propelled
+it himself, the two followed the river for several
+miles into the country. The afternoon was cold but
+bright, and being outdoors was a pleasure to any healthy
+person. Neil forgot some of his worries and remembered
+that, after all, he was still a boy; that football is not
+the chief thing in college life, and that ten years hence
+it would matter little to him whether he played for his
+university against her rival or looked on from the bench.
+And it was that thought that suggested to him a means
+of sparing Paul the bitter disappointment that he
+dreaded.</p>
+
+<p>The plan seemed both simple and feasible, and he
+wondered why he had not thought of it before. To be
+sure, it involved the sacrificing of an ambition of his
+own; but to-day, out here among the pines and beeches,
+with the clear blue sky overhead and the eager breeze
+bringing the color to his cheeks, the sacrifice seemed
+paltry and scarcely a sacrifice at all. He smiled to himself,
+glad to have found the solution of Paul's trouble,
+which was also his own; but suddenly it occurred to him
+that perhaps he had no right to do what he contemplated.
+The ethics were puzzling, and presently he
+turned to Sydney, who had been silently and contentedly
+wheeling himself along across the road, and sought
+his counsel.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Look here, Syd, you're a level-headed sort of chump.
+Give me your valuable opinion on this, will you? Now--it's
+a supposititious case, you know--here are two fellows,
+A and B, each trying for the same--er--prize.
+Now, supposing A has just about reached it and B has
+fallen behind; and supposing I--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Eh?&quot; asked Sydney.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, I meant A. Supposing A knows that B is
+just as deserving of the prize as he is, and that--that
+he'll make equally as good use of it. Do you follow,
+Syd?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Y--yes, I think so,&quot; answered the other doubtfully.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, now, the question I want your opinion on is
+this: Wouldn't it be perfectly fair for A to--well, slip
+a cog or two, you know--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Slip a cog?&quot; queried Sydney, puzzled.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes; that is,&quot; explained Neil, &quot;play off a bit, but
+not enough for any of the fellows to suspect, and so let B
+get the plum?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well,&quot; answered Sydney, after a moment's consideration,
+&quot;it sounds fair enough--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's what I think,&quot; said Neil eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But maybe A and B are not the only ones interested.
+How about the conditions of the contest? Don't
+they require that each man shall do his best? Isn't it
+intended that the prize shall go to the one who really is
+the best?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, well, in a manner, maybe,&quot; answered Neil. He
+was silent a moment. The ethics was more puzzling than
+ever. Then: &quot;Of course, it's only a supposititious case,
+you understand, Syd,&quot; he assured him earnestly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, of course,&quot; answered the other readily.
+&quot;Hadn't we better turn here?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The journey back was rather silent. Neil was struggling
+with his problem, and Sydney, too, seemed to have
+something on his mind. When the town came once more
+into view around a bend in the road Sydney interrupted
+Neil's thoughts.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Say, Neil, I've got a--a confession to make.&quot; His
+cheeks were very red and he looked extremely embarrassed.
+Neil viewed him in surprise.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A confession? You haven't murdered the Dean,
+have you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No. It--it's something rather different. I don't
+believe that it will make any difference in our--our
+friendship, but--it might.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It won't,&quot; said Neil. &quot;Now, fire ahead.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, you recollect the day you found me on
+the way from the field and pushed me back to college?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Of course. Your old ice-wagon had broken down
+and I--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's it,&quot; interrupted Sydney, with a little embarrassed
+laugh. &quot;It hadn't.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What hadn't? Hadn't what?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The machine; it hadn't broken down.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But I saw it,&quot; exclaimed Neil. &quot;What do you
+mean, Syd?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I mean that it hadn't really broken down, Neil.
+I--the truth is I had pried one of the links up with a
+screw-driver.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil stared in a puzzled way.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But--what for?&quot; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't you understand?&quot; asked Sydney, shame-faced.
+&quot;Because I wanted to know you, and I thought
+if you found me there with my machine busted you'd
+try to fix it; and I'd make your acquaintance. It--it was
+awfully dishonest, I know,&quot; muttered Sydney at the last.</p>
+
+<p>Neil stared for a moment in surprise. Then he
+clapped the other on the shoulder and laughed uproariously.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, to think of guileless little Syd being so foxy!&quot;
+he cried. &quot;I wouldn't have believed it if any one else
+had told me, Syd.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well,&quot; said Sydney, very red in the face, but joining
+in the laughter, &quot;you don't mind?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mind?&quot; echoed Neil, becoming serious again, &quot;why
+of course I don't. What is there to mind, Syd? I'm
+glad you did it, awfully glad.&quot; He laid his arm over
+the shoulders of the lad on the seat. &quot;Here, let me
+push a while. Queer you should have cared that much
+about knowing me; but--but I'm glad.&quot; Suddenly his
+laughter returned.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No wonder that old fossil in the village thought
+it was a queer sort of a break,&quot; he shouted. &quot;He knew
+what he was talking about after all when he suggested
+cold-chisels, didn't he?&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII</h2>
+
+<h3>NEIL IS TAKEN OUT</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>The Tuesday before the final contest dawned raw
+and wet. The elms in the yard <i>drip-dripped</i> from every
+leafless twig and a fine mist covered everything with
+tiny beads of moisture. The road to the field, trampled
+by many feet, was soft and slippery. Sydney, almost
+hidden beneath rain-coat and oil-skin hat, found traveling
+hard work. Ahead of him marched five hundred
+students, marshaled by classes, a little army of bobbing
+heads and flapping mackintoshes, alternately cheering and
+singing. Dana, the senior-class president, strode at the
+head of the line and issued his commands through a big
+purple megaphone.</p>
+
+<p>Erskine was marching out to the field to cheer the
+eleven and to practise the songs that were to be chanted
+defiantly at the game. Sydney had started with his class,
+but had soon been left behind, the rubber tires of the
+machine slipping badly in the mud. Presently the head
+of the procession, but dimly visible to him through the
+mist, turned in at the gate, the monster flag of royal
+purple, with its big white E, drooping wet and forlorn
+on its staff. They were cheering again now, and Sydney
+whispered an accompaniment behind the collar of his
+coat:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Erskine! Erskine! Erskine! Rah-rah-rah, rah-rah-rah,
+rah-rah-rah! Erskine! Erskine! Erskine!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly footsteps sounded behind him and the tricycle
+went forward apparently of its own volition. Sydney
+turned quickly and saw Mills's blue eyes twinkling
+down at him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Did I surprise you?&quot; laughed the coach.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, I thought my wheel had suddenly turned into
+an automobile.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hard work for you, I'm afraid. You should have
+let me send a trap for you,&quot; said Mills. &quot;Never mind
+those handles. Put your hands in your pockets and I'll
+get you there in no time. What a beast of a day,
+isn't it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Y--yes,&quot; answered Sydney, &quot;I suppose it is. But I
+rather like it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Like it? Great Scott! Why?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, the mist feels good on your face, don't you
+think so? And the trees down there along the railroad
+look so gray and soft. I don't know, but there's something
+about this sort of a day that makes me feel good.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, every one to his taste,&quot; Mills replied. &quot;By
+the way, here's something I cut out of the Robinson
+Argus; thought you'd like to see it.&quot; He drew a clipping
+from a pocketbook and gave it to Sydney, who,
+shielding it from the wet, read as follows:</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+Erskine, we hear, is crowing over a wonderful new
+play which she thinks she has invented, and with which
+she expects to get even for what happened last year.
+We have not seen the new marvel, of course, but we
+understand that it is called a &quot;close formation.&quot; It is
+safe to say that it is an old play revamped by Erskine's
+head coach, Mills. Last year Mills discovered a form of
+guards-back which was heralded to the four corners of
+the earth as the greatest play ever seen. What happened
+to it is still within memory. Consequently we
+are not greatly alarmed over the latest production of his
+fertile brain. Robinson can, we think, find a means of
+solving any puzzle that Erskine can put together.
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>&quot;They're rather hard on you,&quot; laughed Sydney as
+he returned the clipping.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I can stand it. I'm glad they haven't discovered
+that we are busy with a defense for their tackle-tandem.
+If we can keep that a secret for a few days longer I
+shall be satisfied.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I do hope it will come up to expectations,&quot; said
+Sydney doubtfully. &quot;Now that the final test is drawing
+near I'm beginning to fear that maybe we--maybe we're
+too hopeful.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I know,&quot; answered Mills. &quot;It's always that way.
+When I first began coaching I used to get into a regular
+blue funk every year just before the big game; used to
+think that everything was going wrong, and was firmly
+convinced until the whistle sounded that we were going
+to be torn to pieces and scattered to the winds. It's
+just nerves; you get used to it after a while. As for the
+new defense for tackle-tandem, it's all right. Maybe it
+won't stop Robinson altogether, but it's the best thing
+that a light team can put up against a heavy one playing
+Robinson's game; and I think that it's going to surprise
+her and worry her quite a lot. Whether it will keep
+her from scoring on the tackle play remains to be seen.
+That's a good deal to hope for. If we'd been able to
+try the play in a game with another college we would
+know more about what we can do with it. As it is, we
+only know that it will stop the second and that theoretically
+it is all right. We'll be wiser on the 23d.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Frankly, though, Burr,&quot; he continued, &quot;as a play
+I don't like it. That is, I consider it too hard on the
+men; there's too much brute force and not enough science
+and skill about it; in fact, it isn't football. But as long
+as guards-back and tackle-back formations are allowed
+it's got to be played. It was a mistake in ever allowing
+more than four men behind the line. The natural formation
+of a football team consists of seven players in the
+line, and when you begin to take one or two of those
+players back you're increasing the element of physical
+force and lessening the element of science. More than
+that, you're playing into the hands of the anti-football
+people, and giving them further grounds for their charge
+of brutality.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Football's the noblest game that's played, but it's
+got to be played right. We did away with the old mass-play
+evil and then promptly invented the guards-back
+and the tackle-back. Before long we'll see our mistake
+and do away with those too; revise the rules so that the
+rush-line players can not be drawn back. Then we'll
+have football as it was meant to be played; and we'll
+have a more skilful game and one of more interest both
+to the players and spectators.&quot; Mills paused and then
+asked:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;By the way, do you see much of Fletcher?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, quite a bit,&quot; answered Sydney. &quot;We were
+together for two or three hours yesterday afternoon.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Indeed? And did you notice whether he appeared
+in good spirits? See any signs of worry?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, not that I recall. I thought he appeared to
+be feeling very cheerful. I know we laughed a good
+deal over--over something.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's all right, then,&quot; answered the coach as they
+turned in through the gate and approached the locker-house.
+&quot;I had begun to think that perhaps he had something
+on his mind that troubled him. He seemed a bit
+listless yesterday at practise. How about his studies?
+All right there, is he?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, yes. Fletcher gets on finely. He was saying
+only a day or two ago that he was surprised to find them
+going so easily.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, don't mention our talk to him, please; he
+might start to worrying, and that's what we don't want,
+you know. Perhaps he'll be in better shape to-day.
+We'll try him in the 'antidote.'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But contrary to the hopes of the head coach, Neil
+showed no improvement. His playing was slow, and he
+seemed to go at things in a half-hearted way far removed
+from his usual dash and vim. Even the signals appeared
+to puzzle him at times, and more than once Foster turned
+upon him in surprise.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Say, what the dickens is the matter with you, Neil?&quot;
+he whispered once. Neil showed surprise.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, nothing; I'm all right.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, I'm glad you told me,&quot; grumbled the
+quarter-back, &quot;for I'd never have guessed it, my
+boy.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Before the end of the ten minutes of open practise was
+over Neil had managed to make so many blunders that
+even the fellows on the seats noticed and remarked upon
+it. Later, when the singing and cheering were over and
+the gates were closed behind the last marching freshman,
+Neil found himself in hot water. The coaches descended
+upon him in a small army, and he stood bewildered while
+they accused him of every sin in the football decalogue.
+Devoe took a hand, too, and threatened to put him off
+if he didn't wake up.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Play or get off the field,&quot; he said. &quot;And, hang it
+all, man, look intelligent, as though you liked the game!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil strove to look intelligent by banishing the expression
+of bewilderment from his face, and stood patiently
+by until the last coach had hurled the last bolt
+at his defenseless head--defenseless, that is, save for the
+head harness that was dripping rain-drops down his neck.
+Then he trotted off to the line-up with a queer, half-painful
+grin on his face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I guess it's settled for me,&quot; he said to, himself, as
+he rubbed his cold, wet hands together. &quot;Evidently I
+sha'n't have to play off to give Paul his place; I've done
+it already. I suppose I've been bothering my head about
+it until I've forgotten what I've been doing. I wish
+though--&quot; he sighed--&quot;I wish it hadn't been necessary
+to disgust Mills and Bob Devoe and all the others who
+have been so decent and have hoped so much of me. But
+it's settled now. Whether it's right or wrong, I'm going
+to play like a fool until they get tired of jumping on me
+and just yank me out in sheer disgust.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Simson's got his eagle eye on me, the old ferret!
+And he will have me on the hospital list to-morrow, I'll
+bet a dollar. He'll say I've gone 'fine' and tell me to
+get plenty of sleep and stay outdoors. And the doctor
+will give me a lot of nasty medicine. Well, it's all in
+the bargain. I'd like to have played in Saturday's game,
+though; but Paul has set his heart on it, and if he doesn't
+make the team he'll have seven fits. It means more to
+him than it does to me, and next fall will soon be here.
+I can wait.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Fletcher! Wake up, will you</i>?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Foster was glaring at him angrily. The blood rushed
+into Neil's face and he leaped to his position. Even Ted
+Foster's patience had given out, Neil told himself; and
+he, like all the rest, would have only contempt for him
+to-morrow. The ball was wet and slimy and easily fumbled.
+Neil lost it the first time it came into his hands.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Who dropped that ball?&quot; thundered Mills, striding
+into the back-field, pushing players left and right.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I did,&quot; answered Neil, striving to meet the coach's
+flashing eyes and failing miserably.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You did? Well, do it just once more, Fletcher,
+and you'll go off! And you'll find it hard work getting
+back again, too. Bear that in mind, please.&quot; He turned
+to the others. &quot;Now get together here! Put some life
+into things! Stop that plunging right here! If the
+second gets another yard you'll hear from me!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;First down; two yards to gain!&quot; called Jones, who
+was acting as referee.</p>
+
+<p>The second came at them again, tackle-back, desperately,
+fighting hard. But the varsity held, and on the
+next down held again.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's better,&quot; cried Mills.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Use your weight, Baker!&quot; shrieked one of the second's
+coaches, slapping the second's left-guard fiercely on
+the back to lend vehemence to the command.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Center, your man got you that time,&quot; cried another.
+&quot;Into him now! Throw him back! Get through!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Ten coaches were raving and shrieking at once.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Signal!&quot; cried the second's quarter, Reardon. The
+babel was hushed, save for the voice of Mills crying:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Steady! Steady! Hold them, varsity!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>44--64--73--81!</i>&quot; came Reardon's muffled voice.
+Then the second's backs plunged forward. Neil and Gillam
+met them with a crash; cries and confusion reigned;
+the lines shoved and heaved; the backs hurled themselves
+against the swaying group; a smothered voice gasped
+&quot;Down!&quot; the whistle shrilled.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Varsity's ball!&quot; said the referee. &quot;First down!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The coaches began their tirades anew. Mills spoke
+to Foster aside. Then the lines again faced each other.
+Foster glanced back toward Neil.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>14--12--34--9!</i>&quot; he sang. It was a kick from
+close formation. Neil changed places with full-back.
+He had forgotten for the moment the r&ocirc;le he had set
+himself to play, and only thought of the ball that was
+flying toward him from center. He would do his best.
+The pigskin settled into his hands and he dropped it
+quickly, kicking it fairly on the rebound. But the second
+was through, and the ball banged against an upstretched
+hand and was lost amidst a struggling group of players.
+In a moment it came to light tightly clutched by Brown
+of the second eleven.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't have to make believe,&quot; groaned Neil.
+&quot;Fate's playing squarely into my hands.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Five minutes later the leather went to him for a run
+outside of left tackle. He never knew whether he tried
+to do it or really stumbled, but he fell before the line
+was reached, and in a twinkling three of the second
+eleven were pushing his face into the muddy turf. The
+play had lost the varsity four yards. Mills glared at
+Neil, but said not a word. Neil smiled weakly as he
+went back to his place.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I needn't try any more,&quot; he thought wearily.
+&quot;He's made up his mind to put me off.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A minute later the half ended. When the next one
+began Paul Gale went in at left half-back on the varsity.
+And Neil, trotting to the locker-house, told himself that
+he was glad, awfully glad, and wished the tears wouldn't
+come into his eyes.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX</h2>
+
+<h3>ON THE EVE OF BATTLE</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>Neil was duly pronounced &quot;fine&quot; by the trainer,
+dosed by the doctor, and disregarded by the coaches.
+Mills, having finally concluded that he was too risky a
+person for the line-up on Saturday, figuratively labeled
+him &quot;declined&quot; and passed him over to Tassel, head
+coach of the second eleven. Tassel displayed no enthusiasm,
+for a good player gone &quot;fine&quot; is at best a poor
+acquisition, and of far less practical value than a poor
+player in good condition. It made little difference to
+Neil what team he belonged to, for he was prohibited
+from playing on Wednesday, and on Thursday the last
+practise took place and he was in the line-up but five
+minutes. On that day the students again marched to
+the field and practised their songs and cheers. Despite
+the loss of Cowan and the lessening thereby of Erskine's
+chance of success, enthusiasm reigned high. Perhaps
+their own cheers raised their spirit, for two days before
+the game the college was animated by a totally unwarranted
+degree of hopefulness that amounted almost to
+confidence. The coaches, however, remained carefully
+pessimistic and took pains to see that the players did
+not share the general hopefulness.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We may win,&quot; said Mills to them after the last
+practise, &quot;but don't think for a moment that it's going
+to be easy. If we do come out on top it will be because
+every one of you has played as he never dreamed he
+could play. You've got to play your own positions
+perfectly and then help to play each other's. Remember
+what I've said about team-play. Don't think that
+your work is done when you've put your man out; that's
+the time for you to turn around and help your neighbor.
+It's just that eagerness to aid the next man, that
+stand-and-fall-together spirit, that makes the ideal team. I
+don't want to see any man on Saturday standing around
+with his hands at his sides; as long as the ball's in play
+there's work for every one. Don't cry 'Down' until you
+can't run, crawl, wriggle, roll, or be pulled another inch.
+And if you're helping the runner don't stop pulling or
+shoving until there isn't another notch to be gained.
+Never mind how many tacklers there are; the ball's in
+play until the whistle sounds. And, one thing more,
+remember that you're not going to do your best because
+I tell you to, or because if you don't the coaches will
+give you a wigging, or because a lot of your fellows are
+looking on. You're going to fight your hardest, fight
+until the last whistle blows, fight long after you can't
+fight any more, because you're wearing the Purple of
+old Erskine and can't do anything else but fight!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The cheer that followed was good to hear. There
+was not a fellow there that didn't feel, at that moment,
+more than a match for any two men Robinson could set
+up against him. And many a hand clenched involuntarily,
+and many a player registered his silent vow to
+fight, as Mills had said, long after he couldn't fight any
+more, and, if it depended on him, win the game for old
+Erskine.</p>
+
+<p>On Friday afternoon the men were assembled in the
+gymnasium and were drilled in signals and put through
+a hard examination in formations. Afterward several
+of the coaches addressed them earnestly, touching each
+man on the spot that hurt, showing them where they
+failed and how to remedy their defects, but never goading
+them to despondency.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I should be afraid of a team that was perfect the
+day before the game,&quot; said Preston; &quot;afraid that when
+the real struggle came they'd disappoint me. A team
+should go into the final contest with the ability to play
+a little better than it has played at any time during the
+season; with a certain amount of power in reserve. And
+so I expect to-morrow to see almost all of the faults that
+we have talked of eliminated. I expect to see every man
+do that little better that means so much. And if he
+does he'll make Mr. Mills happy, he'll make all the other
+coaches happy, he'll make his captain and himself happy,
+and he'll make the college happy. And he'll make Robinson
+unhappy!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then the line-up that was to start the game was read.
+Neil, sitting listlessly between Paul and Foster, heard
+it with a little ache at his heart. He was glad that Paul
+was not to be disappointed, but it was hard to think
+that he was to have no part in the supreme battle for
+which he had worked conscientiously all the fall, and
+the thought of which had more than once given him
+courage to go on when further effort seemed impossible.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Stone, Tucker, Browning, Stowell, Witter, Carey,
+Devoe, Foster, Gale--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good for you, Paul,&quot; whispered Neil. Then he
+sighed as the list went on--</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Gillam, Mason.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then a long string of substitutes was read. Neil's
+name was among these, but that fact meant little enough.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Every man whose name has been read report at
+eleven to-morrow for lunch. Early to bed is the rule for
+every one to-night, and I want every one to obey it.&quot;
+Mills paused; then he went on in softer tones: &quot;Some
+of you are disappointed. Some of you have worked
+faithfully--you all have, for that matter--only to meet
+with disappointment to-day. But we can't put you all
+in the line-up; I wish we could. But to those who have
+tried so hard and so honestly for positions in to-morrow's
+game, and who have of necessity been left out, I can
+only offer the sympathy of myself and the other coaches,
+and of the other players. You have done your share,
+and it no doubt seems hard that you are to have no
+better share in the final test. But let me tell you that
+even though you do not play against Robinson, you have
+nevertheless done almost as much toward defeating her as
+though you faced her to-morrow. It's the season's work
+that counts--the long, hard preparation--and in that
+you've had your place and done your part well. And for
+that I thank you on behalf of myself, on behalf of the
+coaches who have been associated with me, and on behalf
+of the college. And now I am going to ask you fellows
+of the varsity to give three long Erskines, three-times-three,
+and three long 'scrubs' on the end!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And they were given not once, but thrice. And then
+the scrub lustily cheered the varsity, and they both
+cheered Mills and Devoe and Simson and all the coaches
+one after another. And when the last long-drawn &quot;Erskine&quot;
+had died away Mills faced them again.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There's one more cheer I want to hear, fellows, and
+I think you'll give it heartily. In to-morrow's game we
+are going to use a form of defense that will, I believe,
+enable us to at least render a good account of ourselves.
+And, as most of you know, this defense was thought out
+and developed by a fellow who, although unfortunately
+unable to play the game himself, is nevertheless one of
+the finest football men in college. If we win to-morrow
+a great big share of the credit will be due to that man;
+if we lose he still will have done as much as any two of
+us. Fellows, I ask for three cheers for Burr!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mills led that cheer himself and it was a good one.
+The pity of it was that Sydney wasn't there to hear it.</p>
+
+<p>The November twilight was already stealing down
+over the campus when Neil and Paul left the gymnasium
+and made their way back to Curtis's. Paul was
+highly elated, for until the line-up had been read he had
+been uncertain of his fate. But his joy was somewhat
+dampened by the fact that Neil had failed to make the
+team.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It doesn't seem just right for me to go into the
+game, chum, with you on the side-line,&quot; he said. &quot;I
+don't see what Mills is thinking of! Who in thunder's
+to kick for us?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I guess you'll be called on, Paul, if any field-goals
+are needed.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I suppose so, but--hang it, Neil, I wish you were
+going to play!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, so do I,&quot; answered Neil calmly; &quot;but I'm not,
+and so that settles it. After all, they couldn't do anything
+else, Paul, but let me out. I've been playing perfectly
+rotten lately.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But--but what's the matter? You don't look stale,
+chum.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I feel stale, just the same,&quot; answered Neil far from
+untruthfully.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But maybe you'll get in for a while; you're down
+with the subs,&quot; said Paul hopefully.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Maybe I will. Maybe you'll get killed and Gillam'll
+get killed and a few more'll get killed and they'll take
+me on. But don't you worry about me; I'm all right.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Paul looked at him as though rather puzzled.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;By Jove, I don't believe you care very much whether
+you play or don't,&quot; he said at last. &quot;If it had been me
+they'd let out I'd simply gone off into a dark corner
+and died.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm glad it wasn't you,&quot; answered Neil heartily.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thunder! So'm I!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The college in general had taken Neil's deflection
+philosophically after the first day or so of wonderment and
+dismay. The trust in Mills was absolute, and if Mills
+said Fletcher wasn't as good as Gale for left half-back,
+why, he wasn't; that was all there was about it. There
+was one person in college, however, who was not deceived.
+Sydney Burr, recollecting Neil's &quot;supposititious
+case,&quot; never doubted that Neil had purposely sacrificed
+himself for his room-mate. At first he was inclined to
+protest to Neil, even to go the length of making Mills
+cognizant of the real situation; but in the end he kept his
+own counsel, doubtful of his right to interfere. And,
+in some way, he grew to think that Paul was not in the
+dark; that he knew of Neil's plan and was lending his
+sanction to it; that, in fact, the whole arrangement
+was a conspiracy in which both Neil and Paul shared
+equally. In this he did Paul injustice, as he found out
+later.</p>
+
+<p>He went to Neil's room that Friday night for a few
+minutes and found Paul much wrought up over the disappearance
+of Tom Cowan. Cowan's room looked as
+though a cyclone had struck it, Paul declared, and Cowan
+himself was nowhere to be found.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'll bet he's done what he said he'd do and left,&quot;
+said Paul. But Sydney had seen him but an hour
+or so before at commons, and Paul set out to hunt
+him up.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I know you chaps don't like him,&quot; he said; &quot;but
+he's been mighty decent to me, and I don't want to seem
+to be going back on him just now when he's so down
+on his luck. I'll be back in a few minutes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Sydney found Neil quite cheerful and marveled at
+it. He himself was oppressed by a nervousness that
+couldn't have been worse had he been due to face Robinson's
+big center the next day. He feared the &quot;antidote&quot;
+wouldn't work right; he feared Robinson had
+found out all about it and had changed their offense; he
+feared a dozen evils, and Neil was kept busy comforting
+him. At nine o'clock Paul returned without tidings of
+Cowan, and Sydney said good-night.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't believe I'll go out to the field to-morrow,&quot;
+he said half seriously. &quot;I'll stay in my room and
+listen to the cheering. If it sounds right toward the
+end of the game I'll know that things have gone our
+way.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You won't be able to tell anything of the sort,&quot;
+said Neil, &quot;for the fellows are going to cheer just as
+hard if we lose as they would had we won. Mills insists
+on that, and what he says goes this year.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's so,&quot; said Paul; &quot;and it's the way it ought
+to be. If ever a team needs cheering and encouragement
+it's when things are blackest, and not when it's
+winning.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And so, you see, you'll have to go to the field,
+Syd,&quot; said Neil as he followed the other out to the
+porch. &quot;By Jove, what a night, eh? I never saw so many
+stars, I believe. Well, we'll have a good clear day
+for the game and a good turf underfoot. Good-night,
+Syd.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good-night,&quot; answered the other. Then, sorrowfully,
+&quot;I do wish you were going to play, Neil.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thanks, Syd; but don't let that keep you awake.
+Good-night!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The room-mates chatted in a desultory way for half
+an hour longer and then prepared for bed. Paul was
+somewhat nervous and excited, and displayed a tendency
+to stop short in the middle of removing a stocking to
+gaze blankly before him for whole minutes at a time.
+Once he stood so long on one leg with his trousers half
+off that Neil feared he had gone to sleep, and so brought
+him back to a recollection of the business in hand by
+shying a boot at him.</p>
+
+<p>As for Neil, he was untroubled by nervousness. He
+believed Erskine was going to win. For the rest, the
+eve of battle held no exciting thoughts for him. He
+could neither win the game nor lose it; he was merely a
+spectator, like thousands of others; only he would see
+the contest from the players' bench instead of the big
+new stand that half encircled the field.</p>
+
+<p>But despite the feeling of aloofness that possessed
+and oppressed him, sleep did not come readily. For a
+long time he heard Paul stirring about restlessly across
+the little bedroom and the occasional cheers of some party
+of patriotic students returning to their rooms across the
+common. His brain refused to stop its labors; and, in
+fact, kept busily at them long after he had fallen asleep.
+He dreamed continually, a ceaseless stream of weird, unpleasant
+visions causing him to turn and toss all through
+the night and leaving him when dawn came weary and
+unrefreshed.</p>
+
+<p>Out of doors the early sun was brushing away the
+white frost. The sky was almost devoid of clouds, and
+the naked branches of the elms reached upward unswayed
+by any breeze. It was an ideal day, that 23d of November,
+bright, clear, and keen. Nature could not
+have been kinder to the warriors who, in a few short
+hours, were to meet upon the yellowing turf, nor to the
+thousands who were to assemble and cheer them on to
+victory--or defeat.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX</h2>
+
+<h3>COWAN BECOMES INDIGNANT</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>Breakfast at the training-table that morning was a
+strange meal, to which the fellows loitered in at whatever
+hour best pleased them. Many showed signs of
+restless slumber, and the trainer was as watchful as
+an old hen with a brood of chickens. For some there
+were Saturday morning recitations; those who were free
+were sent out to the field at ten o'clock and were put
+through a twenty-minute signal practise. Among
+these were Neil and Paul. A trot four times around
+the gridiron ended the morning's work, and they were
+dismissed with orders to report at twelve o'clock for
+lunch.</p>
+
+<p>Neil, Paul, and Foster walked back together, and it
+was the last that suggested going down to the depot
+to see the arrival of the Robinson players. So they
+turned down Poplar Street to Main and made their way
+along in front of the row of stores there. The village
+already showed symptoms of excitement. The windows
+were dressed in royal purple, with here and there a touch
+of the brown of Robinson, and the sidewalk already held
+many visitors, while others were invading the college
+grounds across the street. Farther on the trio passed
+the bicycle repair-shop. In front of the door, astride
+an empty box, sat the proprietor, sunning himself and
+keeping a careful watch on the village happenings. With
+a laugh Neil left his companions and ran across the
+street.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good-morning,&quot; he said. The little man on the box
+looked up inquiringly but failed to recognize his tormentor.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mornin',&quot; he grunted suspiciously.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I wanted to tell you,&quot; said Neil gravely, &quot;that your
+diagnosis was correct, after all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hey?&quot; asked the little man querulously.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, it <i>was</i> a cold-chisel that did it,&quot; said Neil.
+&quot;You remember you said it was.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Cold-chisel? Say, what you talkin'--&quot; Then a
+light of recognition sprang into his weazened features.
+&quot;You're the feller that owes me a quarter!&quot; he cried
+shrilly, scrambling to his feet.</p>
+
+<p>Neil was off on the instant. As the three went on
+toward the station the little man's denunciations followed
+them:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You come back here an' pay me that quarter! If
+I knew yer name I'd have ther law on yer! But I know
+yer face, an' I'll--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;His name's Legion,&quot; called Ted Foster over his
+shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hey? What?&quot; shrieked the repair man.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Legion!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't know what you say, but I'll report that
+feller ter th' authorities!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then a long whistle broke in upon the discussion, and
+the three rushed for the station platform.</p>
+
+<p>From the vantage-point of a baggage-truck they
+watched the Robinson players and the accompanying contingent
+descend from the train. There were twenty-eight
+of the former, heavily built, strapping-looking fellows,
+and with them a small army of coaches, trainers,
+and supporters. Neil dug his elbow against Paul.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Look,&quot; he said, &quot;there's your friend Brill.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And sure enough, there was the Robinson coach who
+had visited the two at Hillton a year before and tried
+to get them to go to the rival college.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If you'd like to make arrangements for next year,
+Paul,&quot; Neil whispered mischievously, &quot;now's your time.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But Paul grinned and shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>The players and most of the coaches tumbled into
+carriages and were taken out to Erskine Field for a short
+practise, and the balance of the arrivals started on foot
+toward the hotel. The three friends retraced their steps.
+Luckily, the proprietor of the bicycle repair-shop was
+so busy looking over the strangers that they passed unseen
+in the little stream. There remained the better part
+of an hour before lunch-time, and they found themselves
+at a loss for a way to spend the time. Foster finally
+went off to his room, as he explained airily, &quot;to dash
+off a letter on his typewriter,&quot; a statement that was
+greeted with howls of derision from the others, who,
+for want of a better place, went into Butler's bookstore
+and aimlessly looked over the magazines and
+papers.</p>
+
+<p>It was while thus engaged that Paul heard his name
+spoken, and turned to find Mr. Brill smilingly holding
+out his hand.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I thought I wasn't mistaken,&quot; the Robinson coach
+said as they shook hands. &quot;And isn't that your friend
+Fletcher over there?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil heard and came over, and the three stood and
+talked for a few minutes. Mr. Brill seemed well pleased
+with the football outlook.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'll wager you gentlemen will regret not coming to
+us after to-day's game is over,&quot; he laughed. &quot;I hear
+you've got something up your sleeve.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We have,&quot; said Neil.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;So I heard. What's the nature of it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It's muscle,&quot; answered Neil gravely.</p>
+
+<p>The coach laughed. &quot;Of course, if it's a secret, I
+don't want to hear it. But I think you're safe to get
+beaten, secret or no secret, eh?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nonsense!&quot; said Paul. &quot;You won't know what
+struck you when we get through with you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Brill laughed good-naturedly but didn't look
+alarmed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;By the way,&quot; he said, &quot;I saw one of your players
+a while ago--Cowan--the fellow we protested. He
+seemed rather sore.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Where was he?&quot; asked Paul eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;In a drug-store down there toward the next corner.
+Have your coaches found a good man for his place?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, yes, it wasn't hard to fill,&quot; answered Neil.
+&quot;Witter's got it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Witter? I don't think I've heard of him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, he's not famous--yet; you'll know him better
+later on.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Paul was plainly anxious to go in search of Cowan,
+and so they bade the Robinson coach good-by. Out on
+the sidewalk Neil turned a troubled face toward his
+friend.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Say, Paul, Cowan knows all about the 'antidote,'
+doesn't he?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, yes, I suppose so; he's seen it played.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And he knows the signals, too, eh?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Of course. Why?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, I've been wondering whether--You heard
+what Brill said--that Cowan was feeling sore? Well,
+do you suppose he'd be mean enough to--to--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;By thunder!&quot; muttered Paul. Then: &quot;No, I don't
+believe that Cowan would do a thing like that. I don't
+think he's a--a traitor!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, you know him better than I do,&quot; said Neil,
+&quot;and I dare say you're right. Only--only I wish we
+could be certain.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'll find him,&quot; answered Paul determinedly. &quot;You
+wait here for me; or, no, I may have to hunt; I'll see
+you at lunch. I'll find out all right.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He was off on the instant. As he had told Neil, he
+didn't believe that Cowan would reveal secrets to Brill
+or any other of the Robinson people; but--well, he realized
+that Cowan was feeling very much aggrieved, and
+that he might in his present state of mind do what in a
+saner moment he would not consider. At the drug-store
+he was told that Cowan had left a few minutes before.
+The only place that Paul could think of where Cowan
+was likely to be was his room, so thither he went. He
+found the deposed guard engaged in replacing certain
+of his pictures and ornaments which had been taken
+down.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hello!&quot; he said. &quot;Thought you'd cut my acquaintance
+too.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nonsense,&quot; answered Paul, &quot;I've been trying to
+find you ever since last night. Where've you been?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, just knocking around. I got back late last
+night.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I was afraid you had left college. You know you
+said you might.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I know. Well, I've changed my mind. I guess
+I'll stay on until recess anyway; maybe until summer.
+What's the use going anywhere else? If I went to Robinson
+I couldn't play; Erskine would protest me. I
+wish to goodness I'd had sense enough to let that academy
+team go hang! Only I needed some money, and it seemed
+a good way to make it. After all, there wasn't anything
+dishonest about it!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;N--no,&quot; said Paul.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, was there?&quot; Cowan demanded, turning upon
+him fiercely. Paul shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, there wasn't. Only, of course, you'd ought
+to have remembered that it disqualified you here.&quot;
+Cowan looked surprised.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My, but you're getting squeamish!&quot; he said. &quot;The
+first thing you know you'll be as bad as Fletcher.&quot; There
+was a moment's silence. &quot;What does he say about it?&quot;
+Cowan asked carelessly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Who, Neil? Oh, he--he sympathizes with you,&quot;
+answered Paul vaguely. &quot;Says it's awfully hard lines,
+but doesn't think the committee could do anything else.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Humph!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;By the way,&quot; said Paul, recollecting his errand, &quot;I
+met Brill of Robinson a while ago. He said he'd seen
+you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; grunted Cowan. &quot;I'd like to punch him.
+Made believe he was all cut up over my being put off.
+Why--why it was he that knew about that academy
+business! Last September he tried to get me to go to
+Robinson; offered me anything I wanted, and I refused.
+After all a--a fellow's got some loyalty! He asked all
+sorts of questions as to whether I was eligible or not, and
+I--I don't know what made me, but I told him about
+taking that money for playing tackle on that old academy
+team. He said that wouldn't matter any. But after I
+decided not to go to Robinson he changed his tune; said
+he wasn't sure but that I was ineligible!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He's a cad,&quot; said Paul.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And then to-day he tried to get sympathetic, but I
+shut him up mighty quick. I told him I knew well
+enough he was the one who had started the protest, and
+offered to punch his nose if he'd come over back of the
+stores; but he wouldn't,&quot; added Cowan aggrievedly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You--you didn't let out anything to him that would--er--help
+them in the game, did you?&quot; asked Paul,
+studying the floor with great attention.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Let out anything?&quot; asked Cowan in puzzled tones.
+&quot;What do you--&quot; He put down the picture he held
+and faced Paul, the blood dying his face. &quot;Look here,
+Paul, what do you mean by that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, why--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You want to know if I turned traitor? If I gave
+away our signals or something like that, eh?&quot; There
+was honest indignation in his voice and a trace of pain,
+and Paul regretted his suspicions on the instant.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, come now, old man,&quot; he began, &quot;what I
+meant--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now let me tell you something, Gale,&quot; said Cowan.
+&quot;I may not be so nice as you and Fletcher and Devoe
+and a lot more of your sort, but I'm not an out-and-out
+rascal and traitor! And I didn't think you'd put that
+on me, by Jove! I've no love for some of the fellows
+in this college, nor for Mills, and I wouldn't care if we
+got beaten--&quot; He paused. &quot;Yes, I would, too; I want
+Robinson to get done up so hard that they'll throw that
+cheat Brill out of there. But I want you to understand
+right here and now that I'm not cad enough to sell
+signals.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I beg your pardon, Tom,&quot; said Paul earnestly. &quot;I
+didn't think it of you. Only, when Brill said he'd seen
+you and that you were feeling sore, we--I--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, so it was Fletcher that suspected it, was it?&quot;
+demanded Cowan.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No more than I,&quot; answered Paul stoutly. &quot;We
+neither of us really thought you'd turn traitor, but I
+was afraid that, feeling the way you naturally would,
+you might thoughtlessly say something that Brill could
+make use of. That's all&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Cowan looked doubtful for a moment, then he sniffed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, all right,&quot; he said finally. &quot;Forget it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You're going out to the game, aren't you?&quot; Paul
+asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, I guess so. What's Fletcher think of being
+laid off?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, he doesn't seem to mind it as I thought he
+would. I--I don't know quite what to make of him.
+It almost seems that he's--well, glad of it!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Huh! You've got another guess, my friend.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How's that? What do you mean?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nothing much; only I guess I've got better eyes
+than you,&quot; responded Cowan with a grin. After a
+pause during which he rearranged the objects on the
+mantel-shelf to his satisfaction, he turned to Paul
+again:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Say, do you think Fletcher and I could get on
+together if--well, if we knew each other better?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm sure you could,&quot; answered Paul eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, I think I'd like to try it. He--he's not a
+bad sort of a chap. Only maybe he wouldn't care to--er--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, yes, he would,&quot; answered Paul. &quot;You'll see,
+Tom.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, maybe so. Going? Good luck to you. I'll
+see you on the field.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Paul hurried around the long curve of Elm Street
+toward Pearson's boarding-house, where the players were
+already gathering for luncheon. He found Neil on the
+steps and dragged him off and down to the gate.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It's all right,&quot; he said. &quot;I found him and asked
+him, and I wish I hadn't. He was awfully cut up about
+it; seemed hurt to think I could suspect such a thing.
+Though, really, I didn't quite suspect, you know.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm sorry we hurt his feelings,&quot; said Neil. &quot;It
+was a bit mean of me to suggest it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He's going to stay for a while,&quot; went on Paul. &quot;And--and--Look
+here, chum, don't you think that if--er--you
+tried you could get to like him better? From
+something he said to-day I found out that he thinks
+you're a good sort and he'd like to get on with you.
+Maybe if we kind of looked after him we could--oh, I
+don't know! But you see what I mean?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, I see what you mean,&quot; replied Neil thoughtfully.
+&quot;And maybe we'd get on better if we tried again.
+Anyhow, Paul, you ask him down to the room some
+night and--and we'll see.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thanks,&quot; said Paul gratefully. &quot;And now let's get
+busy with the funeral baked beans--I mean meats. Gee,
+I've got about as much appetite as a fly! I--I wish the
+game was over with!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;So do I,&quot; answered Neil, as with a sigh he listlessly
+followed his chum into the house.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI</h2>
+
+<h3>THE &quot;ANTIDOTE&quot; IS ADMINISTERED</h3>
+<br>
+
+<br><p class="ctr"><img src="images/illus-237.png" width="80%" alt=""></p><br>
+
+<p>High up against a fair blue sky studded with fleecy
+clouds streamed a banner of royal purple bearing in its
+center a great white E--a flare of intense color visible
+from afar over the topmost branches of the empty elms,
+and a beacon toward which the stream of spectators set
+their steps. In the tower of College Hall the old bell
+struck two o'clock, and the throngs at the gates of Erskine
+Field moved faster, swaying and pushing past the ticket-takers
+and streaming out onto the field toward the big
+stands already piled high with laughing, chattering humanity.
+Under the great flag stretched a long bank of
+somber grays and black splashed thickly with purple,
+looking from a little distance as though the big banner
+had dripped its dye on to the multitude beneath. Opposite,
+the rival tiers of crowded seats were pricked out
+lavishly with the rich but less brilliant brown, while at the
+end of the enclosure, where the throngs entered, a smaller
+stand flaunted the two colors in almost equal proportions.</p>
+
+<p>And between stretched a smooth expanse of russet-hued
+turf ribbed with white lines that glared in the afternoon
+sunlight.</p>
+
+<p>The college band, augmented for the occasion from
+the ranks of the village musicians, played blithely; some
+twelve thousand persons talked, laughed, or shouted
+ceaselessly; and the cheering sections were loudly contending
+for vocal supremacy. And suddenly on to this
+scene trotted a little band of men in black sweaters with
+purple 'E's, nice new canvas trousers, and purple and
+black stockings; and just as suddenly the north stand
+arose and the Robinson cheers were blotted out by a
+mighty chorus that swept from end to end of the structure
+and thundered impressively across the field:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Erskine! Erskine! Erskine! Rah-rah-rah, rah-rah-rah,
+rah-rah-rah! Erskine! Erskine! Erskine!</i>&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It was repeated over and over, and might, perhaps,
+have been sounding yet had not the Robinson players,
+sturdy, brown-clad youths, ambled onto the field. Then
+it was Robinson's turn to make a noise, and she made
+it; there's no doubt about that.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Rah-rah-rah! Robinson! Rah-rah-rah! Robinson!
+Rah-rah-rah! Robinson! Robinson! Robinson!</i>&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The substitutes of both teams retired to the benches
+and the players who were to start the game warmed up.
+Over near the east goal three Erskine warriors were trying--alas,
+not very successfully!--to kick the ball over
+the cross-bar; they were Devoe and Paul and Mason.
+Nearer at hand Ted Foster was personally conducting a
+little squad around the field by short stages, and his
+voice, shrilly cheerful, thrilled doubting supporters of the
+Purple hopefully. Robinson's players were going through
+much the same antics at the other end of the gridiron,
+and there was a business-like air about them that caused
+many an Erskine watcher to scent defeat for his college.</p>
+
+<p>The cheers had given place to songs, and the leader
+of the band faced the occupants of the north stand and
+swung his baton vigorously. Presumably the band was
+playing, but unless you had been in its immediate vicinity
+you would never have known it. Many of the popular
+airs of the day had been refitted with new words for
+the occasion. As poetic compositions they were not remarkable,
+but sung with enthusiasm by several hundred
+sturdy voices they answered the purpose. Robinson replied
+in kind, but in lesser volume, and the preliminary
+battle, the war of voices, went on until three persons,
+a youth in purple, a youth in brown, and a man in everyday
+attire, met in the middle of the field and watched
+a coin spin upward in the sunlight and fall to the ground.
+Then speedily the contesting forces took their position,
+the lines-men and timekeeper hurried forward, and the
+great stands were almost stilled.</p>
+
+<p>Erskine had the ball and the west goal. Stowell
+poised the pigskin to his liking and drew back. Devoe
+shouted a last word of caution. The referee, a well-known
+football player and coach, raised his whistle.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Are you ready, Erskine? All ready, Robinson?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then the whistle shrilled, the timekeeper's watch
+clicked, the ball sped away, and the game had begun.</p>
+
+<p>The brown-clad skirmishers leaped forward to oppose
+the invaders, while the pigskin, slowly revolving, arched in
+long flight toward the west goal. It struck near the ten-yard
+line and the wily Robinson left half let it go; but
+instead of rolling over the goal-line it bumped erratically
+against the left post and bobbed back to near the first
+white line. The left half was on it then like a flash, but
+the Erskine forwards were almost upon him and his run
+was only six yards long, and it was Robinson's ball on
+her ten-yard line. The north stand was applauding vociferously
+this stroke of fortune. If Erskine could get
+possession of the ball now she might be able to score; but
+her coaches, watching intently from the side-line, knew
+that only the veriest fluke could give the pigskin to the
+Purple. And meanwhile, with hearts beating a little
+faster than usual, they awaited the first practical test of
+the &quot;antidote.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Robinson lined up quickly. Left tackle dropped from
+the line, and taking a position between full-back and
+right half, formed the center of the tandem that faced
+the tackle-guard hole on the right. Left half stood well
+back, behind quarter, ready to oppose any Erskine players
+who managed to get around the left of their line.
+The full-back who headed the tandem was a notable line-bucker,
+although his weight was but 172 pounds. The
+left tackle, Balcom, tipped the scales at 187, while the
+third member of the trio was twenty pounds lighter.
+Together they represented 525 pounds.</p>
+
+<p>Opposed to them were Gillam and Mason, whose combined
+weight was 312 pounds. Gillam stood between
+left-guard and tackle, with Mason, his hands on the other's
+shoulders, close behind.</p>
+
+<p>The Robinson quarter stared for an instant with interest
+at the opposing formation, and the full-back, crouched
+forward ready to plunge across the little space that
+divided him from the opponents' territory, looked uneasy.
+Then the quarter stooped behind the big center.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Signal!</i>&quot; he called. &quot;<i>12--21--212!</i>&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The ball came back to him. At the same instant
+the tandem moved forward, the Erskine guard and tackle
+engaged the opposing guard and tackle, and Gillam and
+Mason shot through the hole, the former with head down
+and a padded shoulder presented to the enemy, and the
+latter steadying him and hurling him forward. Then
+two things happened at the same moment; the ball passed
+from quarter to tackle, and Gillam and the leader of the
+tandem came together.</p>
+
+<p>The shock of that collision was plainly heard on the
+side-lines. For an instant the tandem stopped short.
+Then superior weight told, and it moved forward again,
+reenforced by quarter and right end; but simultaneously
+the Erskine quarter and left half made themselves
+felt back of Mason and Gillam, and then chaos reigned.
+The entire forces of each side were in the play, and for
+nearly half a minute the swaying mass moved inch by
+inch, first forward, then backward, the Robinson left
+tackle refusing to believe that their famous play was for
+once a failure and so clinging desperately to the ball,
+the center of a veritable maelstrom of panting, struggling
+players. Then the whistle sounded and the dust
+of battle cleared away. Robinson had gained half a
+yard.</p>
+
+<p>The north stand cheered delightedly. It had only
+seen the Robinson tandem stopped in its tracks, and did
+not know that in the struggle just passed Erskine had
+used a new and novel defense for the first time on any
+football field, had vindicated her coaches' faith in it, and
+brought surprise and dismay to the brown-clad warriors
+and their adherents. If it had known as much as Mills
+and Jones and Sydney about the &quot;antidote&quot; it would
+have shouted itself hoarse.</p>
+
+<p>Gillam trotted back to his place. His extra-padded
+head-harness and heavy shoulder-pads had brought him
+forth unscathed. On the side-line the Erskine coaches
+talked softly to each other, trying hard to look unconcerned,
+but nevertheless showing their pleasure. Sydney
+Burr, rather pale, was among them, and was, perhaps,
+the happiest of all. The bench whereon the substitutes
+sat was one long grin from end to end. But Robinson
+was far from being beaten, and the game went on.</p>
+
+<p>Again the tandem was hurled at the same point, and
+again Gillam met the shock of it. This time the defense
+worked better, and Robinson lost the half-yard of gain
+and another half-yard on top of that.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Six yards to gain,&quot; said the score-board. And the
+purple-decked stand voiced its triumph.</p>
+
+<p>Robinson wisely decided to yield possession of the ball
+and get away from such a dangerous locality. On the
+next play she punted and Paul was brought to earth on
+Robinson's fifty yards. Now was the time for Erskine
+to test her offensive powers. On the first play, using
+the close-formation, Gillam slashed a hole between the
+opposing center and right-guard and Mason went through
+for two yards. The next play netted them another yard
+in the same place. Then Paul was given the pigskin for
+a try outside of right tackle and reeled off four yards
+more before he was downed. It was quick starting and
+fast running, and for the moment Robinson was taken
+off her feet; but the next try ended dismally, for in
+an attempt to get through the left of the line between
+guard and tackle Mason was caught and thrown back for
+a two-yard loss. Another try outside of tackle on that
+side of the line netted but a bare three feet, and Foster
+dropped back for a kick. His effort was not very successful,
+and the ball was Robinson's on her twenty-seven
+yards.</p>
+
+<p>Now she tried the tackle-tandem on the other side
+of center, hurling right tackle, followed by left half with
+the ball, and full-back at the guard-tackle hole. Paul
+led the defense this time, and again Robinson was brought
+up all standing. Another try at the same point with
+like results, and Robinson changed her tactics. With
+the tandem formation, the ball went to full-back, and
+with left end and tackle interfering he skirted Erskine's
+right for seven yards and brought the wearers of the
+brown to their feet shouting wildly. Perhaps no one was
+more surprised than Bob Devoe, for it was his end that
+had been circled. Certainly no one was more thoroughly
+disgusted than he. The Robinson left end had put him
+out of the play as neatly as though he had been the
+veriest tyro. Devoe sized up that youth, set his lips together,
+and kept his eyes open.</p>
+
+<p>Robinson now had the ball near her thirty-five yards
+and returned to the tackle-tandem. In two plays she
+gained two yards, the result of faster playing. Then another
+try outside of right tackle brought her five yards.
+Tackle-tandem again, one yard; again, two yards; a try
+outside of tackle, one yard; Erskine's ball on Robinson's
+forty-three yards. The pigskin went to Gillam, who got
+safely away outside Robinson's right end and reeled off
+ten yards before he was caught. Again he was given
+the ball for a plunge through right tackle and barely
+gained a yard. Mason found another yard between left-guard
+and tackle and Foster kicked. It was poorly done,
+and the leather went into touch at the twenty-five yards,
+and once more Robinson set her feet toward the Erskine
+goal.</p>
+
+<p>So far the playing had all been done in her territory
+and her coaches were looking anxious. Erskine's defense
+was totally unlooked for, both as regarded style and
+effectiveness, and the problem that confronted them was
+serious. Their team had been perfected in the tackle-tandem
+play to the neglecting of almost all else. Their
+backs were heavy and consequently slow when compared
+with their opponents. To be sure, thus far runs outside
+of tackle and end had been successful, but the coaches
+well knew that as soon as Erskine found that such plays
+were to be expected she would promptly spoil them.
+Kicking was not a strong point with Robinson this year;
+at that game her enemy could undoubtedly beat her.
+Therefore, if the tackle-back play didn't work what was
+to be done? There was only one answer: Make it!
+There was no time or opportunity now to teach new
+tricks; Robinson must stand or fall by tackle-tandem.
+And while the coaches were arriving at this conclusion,
+White, their captain and quarter-back, had already
+reached it.</p>
+
+<p>He placed the head of the tandem nearer the line,
+put the tackle at the head of it, and hammered away
+again. Mills, seeing the move, silently applauded. It
+was the one way to strengthen the tandem play, for by
+starting nearer the line the tandem could possibly reach
+it before the charging opponents got into the play. Momentum
+was sacrificed and an instant of time gained, and,
+as it proved, that instant of time meant a difference of
+fully a yard on each play. Had the two Erskine warriors
+whose duty it was to hurl themselves against the
+tandem been of heavier weight it is doubtful if the change
+made would have greatly benefited their opponents; but,
+as it was, the two forces met about on Robinson's line,
+and after the first recoil the Brown was able to gain, sometimes
+a bare eighteen inches, sometimes a yard, once or
+twice three or four.</p>
+
+<p>And now Robinson took up her march steadily toward
+the Purple's goal. The backs plowed through for short
+distances; Gillam and Paul bore the brunt of the terrific
+assaults heroically; the Erskine line fell back foot by
+foot, yard by yard; and presently Robinson crossed the
+fifty-five-yard line and emerged into Erskine territory.
+Here there was a momentary pause in her conquering
+invasion. A fumble by the full-back allowed Devoe to
+get through and fall on the ball.</p>
+
+<p>Erskine now knifed the Brown's line here and there
+and shot Gillam and Paul through for short gains and
+made her distance. Then, with the pigskin back in Robinson
+territory, Erskine was caught holding and Robinson
+once more took up her advance. Carey at right
+tackle weakened and the Brown piled her backs through
+him. On Erskine's thirty-two yards he gave place to
+Jewell and the tandem moved its attack to the other side
+of the line. Paul and Gillam, both pretty well punished,
+still held out stubbornly. Yard by yard the remaining
+distance was covered. On her fifteen yards, almost under
+the shadow of her goal-posts, Erskine was given ten yards
+for off-side play, and the waning hopes of the breathless
+watchers on the north stand revived.</p>
+
+<p>But from the twenty-five-yard line the steady rushes
+went on again, back over the lost ground, and soon, with
+the half almost gone, Robinson placed the ball on Erskine's
+five yards. Twice the tandem was met desperately
+and hurled back, but on the third down, with her
+whole back-field behind the ball, Robinson literally
+mowed her way through, sweeping Paul and Mason, and
+Gillam and Foster before her, and threw Bond over between
+the posts with the ball close snuggled beneath him.</p>
+
+<p>The south stand leaped to its feet, blue flags and
+streamers fluttered and waved, and cheers for Robinson
+rent the air until long after the Brown's left half had
+kicked a goal. Then the two teams faced each other
+again and the Robinson left end got the kick-off and ran
+it back fifteen yards. Again the battering of the tackle-tandem
+began, and Paul and Gillam, nearly spent,
+were unable to withstand it after the first half dozen
+plays. Mason went into the van of the defense in place
+of Gillam, but the Brown's advance continued; one yard,
+two yards, three yards were left behind.</p>
+
+<p>Mills, watching, glanced almost impatiently at the
+timekeeper, who, with his watch in hand, followed the
+battle along the side-line. The time was almost up, but
+Robinson was back on Erskine's thirty-five yards. But
+now the timekeeper walked on to the gridiron, his eyes
+fixed intently on the dial, and ere the ball went again
+into play he had called time. The lines broke up and
+the two teams trotted away.</p>
+
+<p>The score-board proclaimed:</p>
+
+<p>Erskine 0, Opponents 6.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII</h2>
+
+<h3>BETWEEN THE HALVES</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>Neil trotted along at the tail-end of the procession
+of substitutes, so deep in thought that he passed through
+the gate without knowing it, and only came to himself
+when he stumbled up the locker-house steps. He barked
+his shins and reached a conclusion at the same instant.</p>
+
+<p>At the door of the dressing-room a strong odor of
+witch-hazel and liniment met him. He squeezed his way
+past a group of coaches and looked about him. Confusion
+reigned supreme. Rubbers and trainer were hard
+at work. Simson's voice, commanding, threatening, was
+raised above all others, a shrill, imperious note in a rising
+and falling babel of sound. Veterans of the first half
+and substitutes chaffed each other mercilessly. Browning,
+with an upper lip for all the world like a piece of
+raw beef, mumbled good-natured retorts to the charges
+brought against him by Reardon, the substitute quarter-back.</p>
+
+<br><p class="ctr"><img src="images/illus-250.png" width="80%" alt=""><br>
+<b>Erskine vs. Robinson--The First Half.</b></p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, you really ought to be careful,&quot; the latter was
+saying with apparent concern. &quot;If you let those chaps
+throw you around like that you may get bruised or
+broken. I'll speak to Price and ask him to be more
+easy with you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mmbuble blubble mummum,&quot; observed Browning.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, don't say that,&quot; Reardon entreated.</p>
+
+<p>Neil was looking for Paul, and presently he discovered
+him. He was lying on his back while a rubber was
+pommeling his neck and shoulders violently and apparently
+trying to drown him in witch-hazel. He caught
+sight of Neil and winked one highly discolored eye. Neil
+examined him gravely; Paul grinned.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There's a square inch just under your left ear, Paul,
+that doesn't appear to have been hit. How does that
+happen?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Paul grinned more generously, although the effort
+evidently pained him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It's very careless of them, I must say,&quot; Neil went
+on sternly. &quot;See that it is attended to in the next half.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't worry,&quot; answered Paul, &quot;it will be.&quot; Neil
+smiled.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How are you feeling?&quot; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Fine,&quot; Paul replied. &quot;I'm just getting limbered
+up.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You look it,&quot; said Neil dryly. &quot;I suppose by the
+time your silly neck is broken you'll be in pretty good
+shape to play ball, eh?&quot; Simson hurried up, closely followed
+by Mills.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How's the neck?&quot; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It's all right now,&quot; answered Paul. &quot;It felt as
+though it had been driven into my body for about a
+yard.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you think you can start the next half?&quot; asked
+Mills anxiously.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sure; I can play it through; I'm all right now,&quot;
+replied Paul gaily. Mills's face cleared.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good boy!&quot; he muttered, and turned away. Neil
+sped after him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mr. Mills,&quot; he called. The head coach turned,
+annoyed by the interruption.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, Fletcher; what is it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Can't I get in for a while, sir?&quot; asked Neil earnestly.
+&quot;I'm feeling fine. Gillam can't last the game,
+nor Paul. I wish you'd let--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;See Devoe about it,&quot; answered Mills shortly. He
+hurried away, leaving Neil with open mouth and reddening
+cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, that's what I get for disappointing folks,&quot;
+he told himself. &quot;Only he needn't have been <i>quite</i> so
+short. What's the good of asking Devoe? He won't let
+me on. And--but I'll try, just the same. Paul's had
+his chance and there's no harm now in looking after Neil
+Fletcher.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He found Devoe with Foster and one of the coaches.
+The latter was lecturing them forcibly in lowered tones,
+and Neil hesitated to interrupt; but while he stood by
+undecided Devoe glanced up, his face a pucker of anxiety.
+Neil strode forward.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Say, Bob, get me on this half, can't you? Mills
+told me to see you,&quot; he begged. &quot;Give me a chance,
+Bob!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Devoe frowned impatiently and shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Can't be done, Neil. Mills has no business sending
+you to me. He's looking after the fellows himself. I've
+got troubles enough of my own.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But if I tell him you're willing?&quot; asked Neil
+eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm not willing,&quot; said Devoe. &quot;If he wants you
+he'll put you on. Don't bother me, Neil, for heaven's
+sake. Talk to Mills.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil turned away in disappointment. It was no use.
+He knew he could play the game of his life if only
+they'd take him on. But they didn't know; they only
+knew that he had been tried and found wanting. There
+was no time now to test doubtful men. Mills and Devoe
+and Simson were not to be blamed; Neil recognized that
+fact, but it didn't make him happy. He found a seat on
+a bench near the door and dismally looked on. Suddenly
+a conversation near at hand engaged his attention.</p>
+
+<p>Mills, Jones, Sydney Burr, and two other assistant
+coaches were gathered together, and Mills was talking.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The 'antidote's' all right,&quot; he was saying decidedly.
+&quot;If we had a team that equaled theirs in weight
+we could stop them short; but they're ten pounds heavier
+in the line and seven pounds heavier behind it. What
+can you expect? Without the 'antidote' they'd have
+had us snowed under now; they'd have scored five or six
+times on us.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Easy,&quot; said Jones. &quot;The 'antidote's' all right,
+Burr. What we need are men to make it go. That's
+why I say take Gillam out. He's played a star game,
+but he's done up now. Let Pearse take his place, play
+Gale as long as he'll last, and then put in Smith. How
+about Fletcher?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No good,&quot; answered Mills. &quot;At least--&quot; He
+stopped and narrowed his eyes, as was his way when
+thinking hard.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think he'd be all right, Mr. Mills,&quot; said Sydney.
+&quot;I--I know him pretty well, and I know he's the sort
+of fellow that will fight hardest when the game's going
+wrong.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I thought so, too,&quot; answered Mills; &quot;but--well,
+we'll see. Maybe we'll give him a try. Time's up now.--O
+Devoe!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, coming!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Here's your list. Better get your men out.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was a hurried donning of clothing, a renewed
+uproar.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;All ready, fellows,&quot; shouted the captain. &quot;Answer
+to your names: Kendall, Tucker, Browning, Stowell,
+Witter, Jewell, Devoe, Gale, Pearse, Mason, Foster.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There's not much use in talk,&quot; said Mills, as the
+babel partly died away. &quot;I've got no fault to find with
+the work of any of you in the last half; but we've got
+to do better in this half; you can see that for yourselves.
+You were a little bit weak on team-play; see if you
+can't get together. We're going to tie the score; maybe
+we're going to beat. Anyhow, let's work like thunder,
+fellows, and, if we can't do any more, tear that confounded
+tackle-tandem up and send it home in pieces.
+We've got thirty-five minutes left in which to show that
+we're as good if not better than Robinson. Any fellow
+that thinks he's not as good as the man he's going to
+line up against had better stay out. I know that every
+one of you is willing, but some of you appeared in the
+last half to be laboring under the impression that you
+were up against better men. Get rid of that idea.
+Those Robinson fellows are just the same as you--two
+legs, two arms, two eyes, a nose, and a mouth. Go at
+it right and you can put them out of the play. Remember
+before you give up that the other man's just as
+tuckered as you are, maybe more so. Your captain says
+we can win out. I think he knows more about it than
+we fellows on the side-line do. Now go ahead, get together,
+put all you've got into it, and see whether your
+captain knows what he's talking about. Let's have a cheer
+for Erskine!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil stood up on the bench and got into that cheer
+in great shape. He was feeling better. Mills had half
+promised to put him in, and while that might mean much
+or nothing it was ground for hope. He trotted on to
+the field and over to the benches almost happily.</p>
+
+<p>The spectators were settling back in their seats, and
+the cheering had begun once more. The north stand
+had regained its spirit. After all, the game wasn't lost
+until the last whistle blew, and there was no telling what
+might happen before that. So the student section
+cheered and sang, the band heroically strove to make
+itself heard, and the purple flags tossed and fluttered.
+The sun was almost behind the west corner of the stand,
+and overcoat collars and fur neck-pieces were being snuggled
+into place. From the west tiers of seats came the
+steady tramp-tramp of chilled feet, hinting their owners'
+impatience.</p>
+
+<p>The players took their places, silence fell, and the
+referee's whistle blew. Robinson kicked off, and the last
+half of the battle began.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXIII</h2>
+
+<h3>NEIL GOES IN</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>But what a dismal beginning it was!</p>
+
+<p>Pearse, who had taken Gillam's place at right half-back,
+misjudged the long, low kick, just managed to tip
+the ball with one outstretched hand as it went over his
+head, and so had to turn and chase it back to the goal-line.
+But Mason had seen the danger and was before
+him. Seizing the bouncing pigskin, he was able to reach
+the ten-yard line ere the Robinson right end bore him
+to earth. A moment later the ball went to the other
+side as a penalty for holding, and it was Robinson's first
+down on Erskine's twelve yards. Neil, watching intently
+from the bench, groaned loudly. Stone, beside him,
+kicked angrily into the turf.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That settles it,&quot; he muttered glumly. &quot;Idiots!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Pearse it was who met that first fierce onslaught of
+the Brown's tandem, and he was new to the play; but
+Mason was behind him, and he was sent crashing into
+the leader like a ball from the mouth of a cannon. The
+tandem stopped; a sudden bedlam of voices from the
+stands broke forth; there were cries of &quot;Ball! Ball!&quot; and
+Witter flung himself through, rolled over a few times,
+and on the twenty-yard line, with half the Erskine team
+striving to pull him on and all the Robinson team trying
+to pull him back, groaned a faint &quot;Down!&quot; Robinson's
+tackle had fumbled the pass, and for the moment Erskine's
+goal was out of danger.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Line up!&quot; shouted Ted Foster. &quot;Signal!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The men scurried to their places.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>49--35--23!</i>&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Back went the ball and Pearse was circling out
+toward his own left end, Paul interfering. The north
+stand leaped to its feet, for it looked for a moment as
+though the runner was safely away. But Seider, the
+Brown's right half, got him about the knees, and though
+Pearse struggled and was dragged fully five yards farther,
+finally brought him down. Fifteen yards was netted,
+and the Erskine supporters found cause for loud acclaim.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Bully tackle, that,&quot; said Neil. Stone nodded.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Seems to me we can get around those ends,&quot; he
+muttered; &quot;especially the left. I don't think Bloch is
+much of a wonder. There goes Pearse.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The ends were again worked by the two half-backs
+and the distance thrice won. The purple banners waved
+ecstatically and the cheers for Erskine thundered out.
+Neil was slapping Stone wildly on the knee.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hold on,&quot; protested the left end, &quot;try the other.
+That one's a bit lame.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Isn't Pearse a peach?&quot; said Neil. &quot;Oh, but I wish
+I was out there!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You may get a whack at it yet,&quot; answered Stone.
+&quot;There goes a jab at the line.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I may,&quot; sighed Neil. He paused and watched
+Mason get a yard through the Brown's left tackle. &quot;Only,
+if I don't, I suppose I won't get my E.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, yes, you will. The Artmouth game counts,
+you know.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I wasn't in it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's so, you weren't; I'd forgotten. But I think
+you'll get it, just the--Good work, Gale!&quot; Paul had
+made four yards outside of tackle, and it was again
+Erskine's first down on the fifty-five-yard line. The
+cheers from the north stand were continuous; Neil and
+Stone were obliged to put their heads together to hear
+what each other said.</p>
+
+<p>For five minutes longer Erskine's wonderful good fortune
+continued, and the ball was at length on Robinson's
+twenty-eight yards near the north side-line. Foster was
+waving his hand entreatingly toward the seats, begging
+for a chance to make his signals heard. From across the
+field, in the sudden comparative stillness of the north
+stand, thundered the confident slogan of Robinson. The
+brown-stockinged captain and quarter-back was shouting
+incessantly:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Steady now, fellows! Break through! Break through!
+Smash 'em up!&quot; He ran from one end to the other,
+thumping each encouragingly on the back, whispering
+threats and entreaties into their ears. &quot;Now, then,
+Robinson, let's stop 'em right here!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Foster, red-faced and hoarse, leaned forward, patted
+Stowell on the thigh, caught the ball, passed it quickly
+to Mason as that youth plunged for the line, and then
+threw himself into the breach, pushing, heaving, fighting
+for every inch that gave under his torn and scuffled shoes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Second down; four to gain!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Robinson was awake now to her danger. Foster saw
+the futility of further attempts at the line for the present
+and called for a run around left end. The ball went
+to Pearse, but Bloch for once was ready for him, and,
+getting by Kendall, nailed the runner prettily four yards
+back of the line to the triumphant p&aelig;ans of the south
+stand.</p>
+
+<p>When the teams had again lined up Foster dropped
+back as though to try a kick for goal, a somewhat difficult
+feat considering the angle. The Robinson captain
+was alarmed; he was ready to believe that a team who
+had already sprung one surprise on him was capable of
+securing goals from any angle whatever; his voice arose
+in hoarse entreaty:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Get through and block this kick, fellows! Get
+through! Get through!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Signal</i>!&quot; cried Foster. &quot;<i>44--18--23!</i>&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The ball flew back from Stowell and Foster caught it
+breast-high. The Erskine line held for a moment, then
+the blue-clad warriors came plunging through desperately,
+and had Foster attempted a kick the ball would never
+have gone ten feet; but Foster, who knew his limitations
+in the kicking line as well as any one else, had entertained
+no such idea. The pigskin, fast clutched to Paul's
+breast, was already circling the Brown's left end. Devoe
+had put his opponent out of the play, thereby revenging
+himself for like treatment in the first half, and Pearse,
+a veritable whirlwind, had bowled over the Robinson left
+half. There is, perhaps, no prettier play than a fake
+kick, when it succeeds, and the friends of Erskine recognized
+the fact and showed their appreciation in a way
+that threatened to shake the stand from its foundations.</p>
+
+<p>Paul and Pearse were circling well out in the middle
+of the field toward the Robinson goal, now some thirty
+yards distant measured by white lines, but far more than
+that by the course they were taking. Behind them
+streamed a handful of desperate runners; before them,
+rapidly getting between them and the goal, sped White,
+the Robinson captain and quarter. To the spectators a
+touch-down looked certain, for it was one man against
+two; the pursuit was not dangerous. But to Paul it
+seemed at each plunge a more forlorn attempt. So far
+he had borne more than his share of the punishment
+sustained by the tackle-tandem defense; he had worked
+hard on offense since the present half began, and now,
+wearied and aching in every bone and muscle, he found
+himself scarce able to keep pace with his interference.</p>
+
+<p>He would have yielded the ball to Pearse had he been
+able to tell the other to take it; but his breath was too far
+gone for speech. So he plunged onward, each step slower
+than that before, his eyes fixed on the farthest white
+streak. From three sides of the great field poured forth
+the resonance of twelve thousand voices, triumphant,
+despairing, appealing, inciting, the very acme of sound.</p>
+
+<p>Yet Paul vows that he heard nothing save the beat
+of Pearse's footsteps and the awful pounding of his own
+heart.</p>
+
+<p>On the fifteen-yard line, just to the left of the goal,
+the critical moment came. White, with clutching, outstretched
+hands, strove to evade Pearse's shoulder, and
+did so. But the effort cost him what he gained, for,
+dodging Pearse and striving to make a sudden turn
+toward Paul, his foot slipped and he measured his length
+on the turf; and ere he had regained his feet the pursuit
+passed over him. Pearse met the first runner squarely
+and both went down. At the same instant Paul threw
+up one hand blindly and fell across the last line.</p>
+
+<p>On the north stand hats and flags sailed through the
+air. The south stand was silent.</p>
+
+<p>Paul lay unmoving where he had fallen. Simson
+was at his side in a moment. Neil, his heart thumping
+with joy, watched anxiously from the bench. Presently
+the group dissolved and Paul emerged between Simson
+and Browning, white of face and stumbling weakly on
+his legs, but grinning like a jovial satyr. Mills turned
+to the bench and Neil's heart jumped into his throat;
+but it was Smith and not he who struggled feverishly
+out of his sweater, donned a head-harness, and sped on to
+the field. Neil sighed and sank back.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Next time,&quot; said Stone sympathetically. But Neil
+shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I guess there isn't going to be any 'next time,'&quot;
+he said dolefully. &quot;Time's nearly up.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not a bit of it; the last ten minutes is longer than
+all the rest of the game,&quot; answered Stone. &quot;I wonder
+who'll try the goal.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We've got to have it,&quot; said Neil. &quot;Surely Devoe
+can kick an easy one like that! Why, it's dead in the
+center!&quot; Stone shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I know, but Bob's got a bad way of getting nervous
+times like this. He knows that if he misses we've lost
+the game, unless we can manage to score again, which
+isn't likely; and it's dollars to doughnuts he doesn't come
+anywhere near it!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Paul staggered up to the bench, Simson carefully
+wrapping a blanket about him, and the fellows made
+room for him a little way from where Neil sat. He
+stretched his long legs out gingerly because of the aches,
+sighed contentedly, and looked about him. His eyes fell
+on Neil.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hello, chum!&quot; he said weakly. &quot;Haven't you gone
+in yet?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not yet,&quot; answered Neil cheerfully. &quot;How are
+you feeling?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, I'm--ouch!--I'm all right; a bit sore here and
+there.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Devoe's going to kick,&quot; said Stone uneasily.</p>
+
+<p>The ball had been brought out, and now Foster was
+holding it directly in front of the center of the cross-bar.
+The south stand was cheering and singing wildly
+in a desperate attempt to rattle the Erskine captain.
+The latter looked around once, and the Robinson supporters,
+taking that as a sign of nervousness, redoubled
+their noise.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Muckers!&quot; groaned Neil. Stone grinned.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Everything goes with them,&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p>The referee's hand went down, Devoe stepped forward,
+the blue-clad line leaped into the field, and the
+ball sped upward. As it fell Neil turned to Stone and
+the two stared at each other in doubt. From both stands
+arose a confused roar. Then their eyes sought the score-board
+at the west end of the field and they groaned in
+unison.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;NO GOAL.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What beastly luck!&quot; muttered Stone.</p>
+
+<p>Neil was silent. Mills and Jones were standing near
+by and looking toward the bench and Neil imagined they
+were discussing him. He watched breathlessly, then his
+heart gave a suffocating leap and he was racing toward
+the two coaches.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Warm up, Fletcher.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>That was all, but it was all Neil asked for. In a
+twinkling he was trotting along the line, stretching his
+cramped legs and arms. As he passed the bench he tried
+to look unconcerned, but the row of kindly, grinning
+faces told him that his delight was common property.
+Paul silently applauded.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile the teams had again faced each other.
+Twelve minutes of play remained and the score-board
+said: Erskine 5, Opponents 6. Both elevens had made
+changes. For Erskine, Graham, immense of bulk but
+slow, had replaced Stowell at center, and Reardon was
+in Foster's position. Robinson had put in new men at
+left tackle, right end, and full-back. The game went on
+again.</p>
+
+<p>Devoe got the kick-off and brought the ball back to
+his thirty yards; but he was injured when thrown and
+Bell took his place. Smith and Mason each made two
+yards around the ends and Pearse got through left-guard
+for one. Then a plunge at right tackle resulted disastrously,
+Mason being forced back three yards, and Smith
+took the pigskin for a try outside of right tackle. He
+was stopped easily and Mason kicked. Robinson got the
+ball on her fifty yards and ran it back to Erskine's forty-three.
+Once more the tackle-tandem was brought into
+play. Smith failed to stop it, and the head of the defense
+was given to Pearse; but Robinson's new left tackle was
+a good man, and yard by yard Erskine was borne back
+toward her goal. The south stand blossomed anew with
+brown silk and bunting.</p>
+
+<p>On her thirty yards Erskine was penalized for off-side
+and the ball was almost under her goal. The first
+fierce plunge of the tandem broke the Purple line in
+twain and the backs went through for three yards.
+Mason was hurt and the whistle shrilled. A cheer arose
+from the north stand and a youth running into the field
+from the side-line heard it with fast-beating heart.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Erskine! Erskine! Erskine! Rah-rah-rah, rah-rah-rah,
+rah-rah-rah! Fletcher! Fletcher! Fletcher!</i>&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mason was taken off, protesting feebly, and on the
+next plunge of the tackle-tandem Neil, with Pearse behind
+him, brought hope back to Erskine hearts, for the
+&quot;antidote &quot; worked to perfection again. All the pent-up
+strength and enthusiasm of Neil's body and heart were
+turned loose, and he played, as he had known he could
+if given the opportunity, as he had never played before,
+either at Erskine or Hillton. The spirit of battle held
+him; he was perfectly happy, and every knock and bruise
+brought him joy rather than pain. His chance had come
+to prove to both the coaches and the fellows that their
+first estimate of him was the correct one.</p>
+
+<p>Robinson made her distance and gained the twenty-yard
+line by a trick play outside of left tackle; but that
+was all she did on that occasion, for in the next three
+downs she failed to advance the ball a single inch, and
+it went to Erskine. Neil dropped back and the pigskin
+settled into his ready hands. When it next touched earth
+it was in Robinson's possession on her own fifty yards.
+That punt brought a burst of applause from the north
+seats. Robinson tried tackle-tandem again and Neil and
+Pearse stopped it short. Again, and again there was no
+advance; but when Neil picked himself out of the pile-up
+he made the discovery that something was radically
+wrong with his right arm and shoulder. He sat down
+on the trampled turf to think it over and closed his eyes.
+He heard the whistle and Reardon's voice above him:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hurt?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil looked up and shook his head. His gaze fell on
+Simson headed toward him followed by the water-carrier.
+He staggered to his feet, Reardon's arm about him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Keep 'Baldy' away,&quot; he muttered. &quot;I'm all right;
+but don't let him get to me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Reardon looked at his white face for a second in
+doubt. Simson was almost up to them. He wanted to
+win, did Reardon, and--</p>
+
+<p>&quot;All right here,&quot; he cried.</p>
+
+<p>Neil went to his place, Simson retreated, suspicion
+written all over his face, and the whistle sounded.</p>
+
+<p>Neil met the next attack with his left shoulder fore-most.
+And it was Erskine's ball on Robinson's fifty-yards.</p>
+
+<p>On the first try around the Brown's left end Smith
+took the leather twenty yards, catching Bloch napping.
+The north stand was on its feet in an instant. Cheer
+after cheer broke forth encouraging the Purple warriors
+to fight their way across those six remaining white lines
+and wrest victory from defeat. But there was no time
+to struggle over the thirty yards that intervened. A
+long run might bring a touch-down if Erskine could again
+get a back around an end, but two minutes was too short
+a time for line-bucking; and, besides, Reardon had his
+orders.</p>
+
+<p>On the side-line the timekeeper was keeping a careful
+eye upon his stop-watch.</p>
+
+<p>A try by Neil outside of right tackle netted but a
+yard and left him half fainting on the ground. Pearse set
+off for the left end of the line on the next play, but
+never reached it; the Robinson right tackle got through
+on to him and stopped him well back of his line.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Third down,&quot; called the referee, &quot;five to gain!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The teams were lined up about half-way between the
+Robinson goal and the south side of the field, the ball
+just inside the thirty-yard line. Reardon had been
+directed to try for a field-goal as soon as he got inside
+the twenty-five yards. This was only the thirty yards,
+and the angle was severe. There was perhaps one chance
+in three of making a goal from placement; a drop-kick
+was out of the question. Moreover, to make matters
+more desperate, Neil was injured; just how badly Reardon
+didn't know, but the other's white, drawn face told
+its own story. If the attempt failed he would be held
+to blame by the coaches, if it succeeded he would be
+praised for good generalship; it was a way coaches had.
+His consideration of the problem lasted but a fraction
+of a minute. He glanced at Neil and their eyes met.
+The quarter-back's mind was made up on the instant.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Signal</i>!&quot; he cried. &quot;<i>Steady, fellows; we want this;
+every one hold hard</i>!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He trotted back to the thirty-five-yard line and
+dropped to his knees, directly behind and almost facing
+center. Neil took up his position three yards from him
+and facing the goal. Pearse and Smith stood guard between
+him and the line. The Robinson right half turned
+and sped back to join the quarter, whose commands to
+&quot;Get through and stop this kick!&quot; were being shouted
+lustily from his position near the goal-line.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Signal!&quot; Reardon repeated. Graham stooped
+over the ball. Neil, pale but with a little smile about
+his mouth, measured his distance. Victory depended
+upon him. From where Reardon knelt to the goal was
+nearly forty yards on a straight line and the angle was
+severe. If he made it, well and good; if he missed--He
+recalled what Mills had told him ere he sent him in:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think you can win this for us, Fletcher. Once
+inside their twenty-five Reardon will give you the ball
+for a kick from drop or placement, as you think best.
+Whatever happens, don't let your nerves get the best
+of you. If you miss, why, you've missed, that's all.
+Don't think the world's coming to an end because
+we've been beaten. A hundred years from now, when
+you and I aren't even memories, Erskine will still be
+turning out football teams. But if we can, we want to
+win. Just keep cool and do your level best, that's all
+we ask. Now get in there.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil took a deep breath. He'd do his best. If the
+line held, the ball ought to go over. He was cool enough
+now, and although his shoulder seemed on fire, the smile
+about his mouth deepened and grew confident. Reardon
+stretched forth his hands.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Signal!</i>&quot; he cried for the third time; but no signal
+was forthcoming. Instead Graham sped the ball back to
+him, steady and true, and the Robinson line, almost
+caught napping, failed to charge until the oval had settled
+into Reardon's hands and had been placed upon the ground
+well cocked at the goal. Then the Brown's warriors broke
+through and bore down, big and ugly, upon Pearse and
+Smith; but Neil was stepping toward the ball; a long
+stride, a short one, a long one, and toe and pigskin came
+together. Pearse was down and Smith was shouldering
+valiantly at a big guard. Two blue-clad arms swept
+upward almost into the path of the rising ball; there
+was a confused sound of crashing bodies and rasping
+canvas, and then a Robinson man bounded against Neil
+and sent him reeling to earth.</p>
+
+<p>For an instant the desire to lie still and close his
+eyes was strong. But there was the ball! He rolled
+half over, and raising himself on his left hand looked
+eagerly toward the posts. The pigskin, turning lazily
+over and over, was still in flight. Straight for the goal
+it was speeding, but now it had begun to drop. Neil's
+heart stood still. Would it clear the cross-bar? It
+seemed scarcely possible, but even as despair seized him,
+for an instant the bar came between his straining eyes
+and the dropping ball!</p>
+
+<p>A figure with tattered purple sleeves near at hand
+leaped into the air, waving his arms wildly. On the stand
+across the field pandemonium broke loose.</p>
+
+<p>Neil closed his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>A moment later Simson found him there, sitting on
+the thirty-five-yard line, one arm hanging limply over
+his knee, his eyes closed, and his white face wreathed
+in smiles.</p>
+
+<p>Erskine 10, Opponents 6, said the score-board.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXIV</h2>
+
+<h3>AFTER THE BATTLE</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>&quot;You'll not get off so easily this time,&quot; said the
+doctor.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, sir,&quot; replied Neil, striving to look concerned.</p>
+
+<p>He was back on the couch again, just where he had
+been four weeks previous, with his shoulder swathed about
+in bandages just as it had been then.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I can't see what you were thinking about,&quot; went on
+the other irritably, &quot;to go on playing after you'd bust
+things up again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, sir--that is, I'm sure I don't know.&quot; Neil's
+tone was very meek, but the doctor nevertheless looked
+at him suspiciously.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Humph! Much you care, I guess. But, just the
+same, my fine fellow, it'll be Christmas before you have
+the use of that arm again. That'll give you time to see
+what an idiot you were.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thank you, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The doctor smiled in spite of himself and looked
+away.</p>
+
+<br><p class="ctr"><img src="images/illus-273.png" width="80%" alt=""><br>
+<b>Erskine vs. Robinson--The Second Half.</b></p>
+
+<p>&quot;Doesn't seem to have interfered with your appetite,
+anyhow,&quot; he said, glancing at the well-nigh empty
+tray on the chair.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, sir; I--I tried not to eat much, but I was
+terribly hungry, Doc.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, I guess you'll do.&quot; He picked up his hat;
+then he faced the couch again and its occupant. &quot;The
+trouble with you chaps,&quot; he said severely, &quot;is that
+as long as you've managed to get a silly old leather
+wind-bag over a fool streak of lime you think it
+doesn't matter how much you've broke yourselves to
+pieces.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, it's very thoughtless of us,&quot; murmured Neil
+with deep contriteness.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Humph!&quot; growled the doctor. &quot;See you in the
+morning.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>When the door had closed Neil reached toward the
+tray and with much difficulty buttered a piece of Graham
+bread, almost the only edible thing left. Then he settled
+back against the pillows, not without several grimaces
+as the injured shoulder was moved, and contentedly
+ate it. He was very well satisfied. To be sure, a month
+of invalidism was not a pleasing prospect, but things
+might have been worse. And the end paid for all. Robinson
+had departed with trailing banners; the coaches
+and the whole college were happy; Paul was happy;
+Sydney was happy; he was happy himself. Certainly
+the bally shoulder--ouch!--hurt at times; but, then one
+can't have everything one wants. His meditations were
+interrupted by voices and footsteps outside the front
+door. He bolted the last morsel of bread and awaited
+the callers.</p>
+
+<p>These proved to be Paul and Sydney and--Neil stared--Tom Cowan.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Rah-rah-rah!&quot; shouted Paul, slamming the door.
+&quot;How are they coming, chum? Here's Burr and Cowan
+to make polite injuries after your inquiries--I mean
+inquiries--well, you know what I mean. Tom's been
+saying all sorts of nice things about your playing, and
+I think he'd like to shake hands with the foot that kicked
+that goal.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil laughed and put out his hand. Cowan, grinning,
+took it.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It was fine, Fletcher,&quot; he said with genuine
+enthusiasm. &quot;And, some way, I knew when I saw you
+drop back that you were going to put it over. I'd have
+bet a hundred dollars on it!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thunder, you were more confident than I was!&quot;
+Neil laughed. &quot;I wouldn't have bet more than thirty
+cents. Well, Board of Strategy, how did you like the
+game?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Sydney shook his head gravely.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I wouldn't care to go through it again,&quot; he answered.
+&quot;I had all kinds of heart disease before the
+first half was over, and after that I was in a sort of
+daze; didn't know really whether it was football or
+Friday-night lectures.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You ought to have been at table to-night, chum,&quot;
+said Paul. &quot;We made Rome howl. Mills made a
+speech, and so did Jones and 'Baldy,' and--oh, every
+one. It was fine!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And they cheered a fellow named Fletcher for
+nearly five minutes,&quot; added Sydney. &quot;And--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hear 'em!&quot; Cowan interrupted. From the direction
+of the yard came a long volley of cheers for Erskine.
+Dinner was over and the fellows were ready for the
+celebration; they were warming up.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Great times to-night,&quot; said Paul happily. &quot;I wish
+you were going out to the field with us, Neil.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Maybe I will.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If you try it I'll strap you down,&quot; replied Paul
+indignantly. &quot;By the way, Mills told me to announce
+his coming. He's terribly tickled, is Mills, although he
+doesn't say very much.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He's still wondering how you went stale before the
+game and then played the way you did,&quot; said Sydney.
+&quot;However, I didn't say anything.&quot; He caught himself
+up and glanced doubtfully toward Cowan. &quot;I don't
+know whether it's a secret?&quot; He appealed to Neil, who
+was frowning across at him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What's a secret?&quot; demanded Paul.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't mind me,&quot; said Cowan. &quot;It may be a secret,
+but I guessed it long ago, didn't I, Paul?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What in thunder are you all talking about?&quot; asked
+that youth, staring inquiringly from one to another.
+Sydney saw that he had touched on forbidden ground
+and now looked elaborately ignorant.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, nothing, Paul,&quot; answered Neil. &quot;When are
+you all going out to the field?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But there is something,&quot; his chum protested warmly.
+&quot;Now out with it. What is it, Cowan? What did you
+guess?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, about Fletcher going stale so that you could
+get into the game,&quot; answered Cowan, apparently ignorant
+of Neil's wrathful grimaces. &quot;I guessed right away.
+Why--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, shut up, won't you?&quot; Neil entreated. &quot;Don't
+mind them, Paul; they're crazy. Sydney, you're an ass,
+if you only knew it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But I thought he knew--&quot; began Sydney.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, I didn't know,&quot; said Paul, quietly, his eyes on
+Neil's averted face. &quot;I--I must have been blind. It's
+plain enough now, of course. If I had known I wouldn't
+have taken the place.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You're all a set of idiots,&quot; muttered Neil.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm sorry I said anything,&quot; said Sydney, genuinely
+distressed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm glad,&quot; said Paul. &quot;I'm such a selfish brute
+that I can't see half an inch before my nose. Chum,
+all I've got to say--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Shut up,&quot; cried Neil. &quot;Listen, fellows, they're
+marching across the common. Some one help me to the
+window. I want to see.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Paul strode to his side, and putting an arm under
+his shoulders lifted him to his feet. Sydney lowered
+the gas and the four crowded to the window. Across
+the common, a long dark column in the starlight,
+tramped all Erskine, and at the head marched the
+band.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Gee, what a crowd!&quot; muttered Cowan.</p>
+
+<p>The head of the procession passed through the gate
+and turned toward the house, and the band struck up
+'Neath the Elms of Old Erskine. Hundreds of voices
+joined in and the slow and stately song thundered up
+toward the star-sprinkled sky.</p>
+
+<p>Paul's arm was still around his room-mate; its clasp
+tightened a little.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Say, chum.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well?&quot; muttered Neil.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thanks.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, don't bother me,&quot; Neil grumbled. &quot;Let's get
+out of this; they're stopping.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Sydney had stolen, as noiselessly as one may on
+crutches, to the chandelier, and suddenly the gas flared
+up, sending a path of light across the street and revealing
+the three at the window. Neil, exclaiming and protesting,
+strove to draw back, but Paul held him fast. From
+the crowd outside came the deep and long-drawn <i>A-a-ay!</i>
+and grew and spread up the line.</p>
+
+<p>And then the cheering began.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13556 ***</div>
+</body>
+</html>
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+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
+Procedures for determining public domain status are described in
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+
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #13556 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/13556)
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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, Behind the Line, by Ralph Henry Barbour,
+Illustrated by C. M. Relyea
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: Behind the Line
+
+Author: Ralph Henry Barbour
+
+Release Date: September 30, 2004 [eBook #13556]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BEHIND THE LINE***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Juliet Sutherland, Charlie Kirschner, and the Project
+Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team
+
+
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
+ file which includes the original illustrations.
+ See 13556-h.htm or 13556-h.zip:
+ (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/3/5/5/13556/13556-h/13556-h.htm)
+ or
+ (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/3/5/5/13556/13556-h.zip)
+
+
+
+
+
+BEHIND THE LINE
+
+A Story of College Life and Football
+
+by
+RALPH HENRY BARBOUR
+Author of _The Half-Back_, _Captain of the Crew_, and _For the Honor
+of the School_
+
+Illustrated by C.M. Relyea
+
+1902
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: A critical moment]
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+TO
+MY MOTHER
+
+
+
+PREFATORY NOTE
+
+The Author takes pleasure in acknowledging his indebtedness to Mr. Lorin
+F. Deland, of Boston, for the football play described in Chapter XV.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+CHAPTER
+ I.--HEROES IN MOLESKIN
+ II.--PAUL CHANGES HIS MIND
+ III.--IN NEW QUARTERS
+ IV.--NEIL MAKES ACQUAINTANCES
+ V.--AND SHOWS HIS METTLE
+ VI.--MILLS, HEAD COACH
+ VII.--THE GENTLE ART OF HANDLING PUNTS
+ VIII.--THE KIDNAPING
+ IX.--THE BROKEN TRICYCLE
+ X.--NEIL MAKES THE VARSITY
+ XI.--THE RESULT OF A FUMBLE
+ XII.--ON THE HOSPITAL LIST
+ XIII.--SYDNEY STUDIES STRATEGY
+ XIV.--MAKES A CALL
+ XV.--AND TELLS OF A DREAM
+ XVI.--ROBINSON SENDS A PROTEST
+ XVII.--A PLAN AND A CONFESSION
+XVIII.--NEIL is TAKEN OUT
+ XIX.--ON THE EVE OF BATTLE
+ XX.--COWAN BECOMES INDIGNANT
+ XXI.--THE "ANTIDOTE" IS ADMINISTERED
+ XXII.--BETWEEN THE HALVES
+XXIII.--NEIL GOES IN
+ XXIV.--AFTER THE BATTLE
+
+
+
+
+LIST OF ILLUSTKATIONS
+
+A critical moment (frontispiece)
+
+Getting settled
+
+The vine swayed at every strain
+
+Hiding his face, he cried for help
+
+"I guess you've broken down," said Neil
+
+Mills studied the diagram in silence
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+HEROES IN MOLESKIN
+
+"Third down, four yards to gain!"
+
+The referee trotted out of the scrimmage line and blew his whistle; the
+Hillton quarter-back crouched again behind the big center; the other
+backs scurried to their places as though for a kick.
+
+"_9--6--12!_" called quarter huskily.
+
+"Get through!" shrieked the St. Eustace captain. "Block this kick!"
+
+"_4--8!_"
+
+The ball swept back to the full, the halves formed their interference,
+and the trio sped toward the right end of the line. For an instant the
+opposing ranks heaved and struggled; for an instant Hillton repelled the
+attack; then, like a shot, the St. Eustace left tackle hurtled through
+and, avoiding the interference, nailed the Hillton runner six yards back
+of the line. A square of the grand stand blossomed suddenly with blue,
+and St. Eustace's supporters, already hoarse with cheering and singing,
+once more broke into triumphant applause. The score-board announced
+fifteen minutes to play, and the ball went to the blue-clad warriors on
+Hillton's forty-yard line.
+
+Hillton and St. Eustace were once more battling for supremacy on the
+gridiron in their annual Thanksgiving Day contest. And, in spite of the
+fact that Hillton was on her own grounds, St. Eustace's star was in the
+ascendant, and defeat hovered dark and ominous over the Crimson. With
+the score 5 to in favor of the visitors, with her players battered and
+wearied, with the second half of the game already half over, Hillton,
+outweighted and outplayed, fought on with the doggedness born of despair
+in an almost hopeless struggle to avert impending defeat.
+
+In the first few minutes of the first half St. Eustace had battered her
+way down the field, throwing her heavy backs through the crimson line
+again and again, until she had placed the pigskin on Hillton's
+three-yard line. There the Hillton players had held stubbornly against
+two attempts to advance, but on the third down had fallen victims to a
+delayed pass, and St. Eustace had scored her only touch-down. The
+punt-out had failed, however, and the cheering flaunters of blue banners
+had perforce to be content with five points.
+
+Then it was that Hillton had surprised her opponents, for when the
+Blue's warriors had again sought to hammer and beat their way through
+the opposing line they found that Hillton had awakened from her daze,
+and their gains were small and infrequent. Four times ere the half was
+at an end St. Eustace was forced to kick, and thrice, having by the
+hardest work and almost inch by inch fought her way to within scoring
+distance of her opponent's goal, she met a defense that was impregnable
+to her most desperate assaults. Then it was that the Crimson had waved
+madly over the heads of Hillton's shrieking supporters and hope had
+again returned to their hearts.
+
+In the second half Hillton had secured the ball on the kick-off, and,
+never losing possession of it, had struggled foot by foot to within
+fifteen yards of the Blue's goal. From there a kick from placement had
+been tried, but Gale, Hillton's captain and right half-back, had been
+thrown before his foot had touched the leather, and the St. Eustace
+right-guard had fallen on the ball. A few minutes later a fumble
+returned the pigskin to Hillton on the Blue's thirty-three yards, and
+once more the advance was taken up. Thrice the distance had been gained
+by plunges into the line and short runs about the ends, and once
+Fletcher, Hillton's left half, had got away safely for twenty yards. But
+on her eight-yard line, under the shadow of her goal, St. Eustace had
+held bravely, and, securing the ball on downs, punted it far down the
+field into her opponent's territory. Fletcher had run it back ten yards
+ere he was downed, and from there it had gone six yards further by one
+superb hurdle by the full-back. But St. Eustace had then held finely,
+and on the third down, as has been told, Hillton's fake-kick play had
+been demolished by the Blue's tackle, and the ball was once more in the
+hands of St. Eustace's big center rush.
+
+On the side-line, his hands in his pockets and his short brier pipe
+clenched firmly between his teeth, Gardiner, Hillton's head coach,
+watched grimly the tide of battle. Things had gone worse than he had
+anticipated. He had not hoped for too much--a tie would have satisfied
+him; a victory for Hillton had been beyond his expectations. St. Eustace
+far outweighed his team; her center was almost invulnerable and her back
+field was fast and heavy. But, despite the modesty of his expectations,
+Gardiner was disappointed. The plays that he had believed would prove to
+be ground-gainers had failed almost invariably. Neil Fletcher, the left
+half, on whom the head coach had placed the greatest reliance, had, with
+a single exception, failed to circle the ends for any distance. To be
+sure, the St. Eustace end rushes had proved more knowing than he had
+given them credit for being, and so the fault was, after all, not with
+Fletcher; but it was disappointing nevertheless.
+
+And, as is invariably the case, he saw where he had made mistakes in the
+handling of his team; realized, now that it was too late, that he had
+given too much attention to that thing, too little to this; that, as
+things had turned out, certain plays discarded a week before would have
+proved of more value than those substituted. He sighed, and moved down
+the line to keep abreast of the teams, now five yards nearer the
+Hillton goal.
+
+"Crozier must come out in a moment," said a voice beside him. He turned
+to find Professor Beck, the trainer and physical director. "What a game
+he has put up, eh?"
+
+Gardiner nodded.
+
+"Best quarter in years," he answered. "It'll weaken us considerably, but
+I suppose it's necessary." There was a note of interrogation in the
+last, and the professor heard it.
+
+"Yes, yes, quite," he replied. "The boy's on his last legs." Gardiner
+turned to the line of substitutes behind them.
+
+"Decker!"
+
+The call was taken up by those nearest at hand, and the next instant a
+short, stockily-built youth was peeling off his crimson sweater. The
+referee's whistle blew, and while the mound of squirming players found
+their feet again, Gardiner walked toward them, his hand on
+Decker's shoulder.
+
+"Play slow and steady your team, Decker," he counseled. "Use Young and
+Fletcher for runs; try them outside of tackle, especially on the right.
+Give Gale a chance to hit the line now and then and diversify your plays
+well. And, my boy, if you get that ball again, and of course you will,
+_don't let it go_! Give up your twenty yards if necessary, only hang on
+to the leather!"
+
+Then he thumped him encouragingly on the back and sped him forward.
+Crozier, the deposed quarter-back, was being led off by Professor Beck.
+The boy was pale of face and trembling with weariness, and one foot
+dragged itself after the other limply. But he was protesting with tears
+in his eyes against being laid off, and even the hearty cheers for him
+that thundered from the stand did not comfort him. Then the game went
+on, the tide of battle flowing slowly, steadily, toward the
+Crimson's goal.
+
+"If only they don't score again!" said Gardiner.
+
+"That's the best we can hope for," said Professor Beck.
+
+"Yes; it's turned out worse than I expected."
+
+"Well, you can comfort yourself with the knowledge that they've played
+as plucky a game against odds as I ever expect to see," answered the
+other. "And we won't say die yet; there's still"--he looked at his
+watch--there's still eight minutes."
+
+"That's good; I hope Decker will remember what I told him about runs
+outside right tackle," muttered Gardiner anxiously. Then he relighted
+his pipe and, with stolid face, watched events.
+
+St. Eustace was still hammering Hillton's line at the wings. Time and
+again the Blue's big full-back plunged through between guard and
+tackle, now on this side, now on that, and Hillton's line ever gave back
+and back, slowly, stubbornly, but surely.
+
+"First down," cried the referee. "Five yards to gain."
+
+The pigskin now lay just midway between Hillton's ten-and fifteen-yard
+lines. Decker, the substitute quarter-back, danced about under the
+goal-posts.
+
+"Now get through and break it up, fellows!" he shouted. "Get through!
+Get through!"
+
+But the crimson-clad line men were powerless to withstand the terrific
+plunges of the foe, and back once more they went, and yet again, and the
+ball was on the six-yard line, placed there by two plunges at
+right tackle.
+
+"First down!" cried the referee again.
+
+Then Hillton's cup of sorrow seemed overflowing. For on the next play
+the umpire's whistle shrilled, and half the distance to the goal-line
+was paced off. Hillton was penalized for holding, and the ball was on
+her three yards!
+
+From the section of the grand stand where the crimson flags waved came
+steady, entreating, the wailing slogan:
+
+"_Hold, Hillton! Hold, Hillton! Hold, Hillton!_"
+
+Near at hand, on the side-line, Gardiner ground his teeth on the stem of
+his pipe and watched with expressionless face. Professor Beck, at his
+side, frowned anxiously.
+
+"Put it over, now!" cried the St. Eustace captain. "Tear them up,
+fellows!"
+
+The quarter gave the signal, the two lines smashed together, and the
+whistle sounded. The ball had advanced less than a yard. The Hillton
+stand cheered hoarsely, madly.
+
+"Line up! Line up!" cried the Blue's quarter. "Signal!"
+
+Then it was that St. Eustace made her fatal mistake. With the memory of
+the delayed pass which had won St. Eustace her previous touch-down in
+mind, the Hillton quarter-back was on the watch.
+
+The ball went back, was lost to view, the lines heaved and strained.
+Decker shot to the left, and as he reached the end of the line the St.
+Eustace left half-back came plunging out of the throng, the ball
+snuggled against his stomach. Decker, just how he never knew, squirmed
+past the single interferer, and tackled the runner firmly about the
+hips. The two went down together on the seven yards, the blue-stockinged
+youth vainly striving to squirm nearer to the line, Decker holding for
+all he was worth. Then the Hillton left end sat down suddenly on the
+runner's head and the whistle blew.
+
+The grand stand was in an uproar, and cheers for Hillton filled the air.
+Gardiner turned away calmly and knocked the ashes from his pipe.
+Professor Beck beamed through his gold-rimmed glasses. Decker picked
+himself up and sped back to his position.
+
+"_Signal_!" he cried. But a St. Eustace player called for time and the
+whistle piped again.
+
+"If Decker tries a kick from there it'll be blocked, and they'll score
+again," said Gardiner. "Our line can't hold. There's just one thing to
+do, but I fear Decker won't think of it." He caught Gale's eye and
+signaled the captain to the side-line.
+
+"What is it?" panted that youth, taking the nose-guard from his mouth
+and tenderly nursing a swollen lip. Gardiner hesitated. Then--
+
+"Nothing. Only fight it out, Gale. You've got your chance now!" Gale
+nodded and trotted back. Gardiner smiled ruefully. "The rule against
+coaching from the side-lines may be a good one," he muttered, "but I
+guess it's lost this game for us."
+
+The whistle sounded and the lines formed again.
+
+"First down," cried the referee, jumping nimbly out of the way. Decker
+had been in conference with the full-back, and now he sprang back to
+his place.
+
+"Signal!" he cried. "_14--7--31_!"
+
+The Hillton full stood just inside the goal-line and stretched his hands
+out.
+
+"_16--8_!"
+
+The center passed the pigskin straight and true to the full-back, but
+the latter, instead of kicking it, stood as though bewildered while the
+St. Eustace forwards plunged through the Hillton line as though it had
+been of paper. The next moment he was thrown behind his goal-line with
+the ball safe in his arms, and Gardiner, on the side-line, was smiling
+contentedly.
+
+"Touch-back," cried Decker. "Line up on the twenty yards, fellows!"
+
+Hillton's ruse had won her a free kick, and in another moment the ball
+was arching toward the St. Eustace goal. The Blue's left half secured
+it, but was downed on his forty yards. The first attack netted four
+yards through Hillton's left-guard, and the crimson flags drooped on
+their staffs. On the next play St. Eustace's full-back hurdled the line
+for two yards, but lost the pigskin, and amid frantic cries of "Ball!
+Ball!" Fletcher, Hillton's left half, dropped upon it. The crimson
+banners waved again, and Hillton voices once more took up the refrain of
+Hilltonians, while hope surged back into loyal hearts.
+
+"Five minutes to play," said Professor Beck. Gardiner nodded.
+
+"Time enough to win in," he answered.
+
+Decker crouched again, chanted his signal, and the Hillton full plunged
+at the blue-clad line. But only a yard resulted.
+
+"_Signal_!" cried the quarter. "_8--51--16--5_!"
+
+The ball came back into his waiting hands, was thrown at a short pass
+to the left half, and, with right half showing the way and full-back
+charging along beside, Fletcher cleared the line through a wide gap
+outside of St. Eustace's right tackle and sped down the field while the
+Hillton supporters leaped to their feet and shrieked wildly. The
+full-back met the St. Eustace right half, and the two were left behind
+on the turf. Beside Fletcher, a little in advance, ran the Hillton
+captain and right half-back, Paul Gale. Between them and the goal, now
+forty yards away, only the St. Eustace quarter remained, but behind them
+came pounding footsteps that sounded dangerous.
+
+Gardiner, followed by the professor and a little army of privileged
+spectators, raced along the line.
+
+"He'll make it," muttered the head coach. "They can't stop him!"
+
+One line after another went under the feet of the two players. The
+pursuit was falling behind. Twenty yards remained to be covered. Then
+the waiting quarter-back, white-faced and desperate, was upon them. But
+Gale was equal to the emergency.
+
+"To the left!" he panted.
+
+Fletcher obeyed with weary limbs and leaden feet, and without looking
+knew that he was safe. Gale and the St. Eustace player went down
+together, and in another moment Fletcher was lying, faint but happy,
+over the line and back of the goal!
+
+The stands emptied themselves on the instant of their triumphant burden
+of shouting, cheering, singing Hilltonians, and the crimson banners
+waved and fluttered on to the field. Hillton had escaped defeat!
+
+But Fortune, now that she had turned her face toward the wearers of the
+Crimson, had further gifts to bestow. And presently, when the wearied
+and crestfallen opponents had lined themselves along the goal-line,
+Decker held the ball amid a breathless silence, and Hillton's right end
+sent it fair and true between the uprights: Hillton, 6; Opponents, 5.
+
+The game, so far as scoring went, ended there. Four minutes later the
+whistle shrilled for the last time, and the horde of frantic Hilltonians
+flooded the field and, led by the band, bore their heroes in triumph
+back to the school. And, side by side, at the head of the procession,
+perched on the shoulders of cheering friends, swayed the two half-backs,
+Neil Fletcher and Paul Gale.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+PAUL CHANGES HIS MIND
+
+Two boys were sitting in the first-floor corner study in Haewood's.
+Those who know the town of Hillton, New York, will remember Haewood's as
+the large residence at the corner of Center and Village Streets, from
+the big bow-window of which the occupant of the cushioned seat may look
+to the four points of the compass or watch for occasional signs of life
+about the court-house diagonally across. To-night--the bell in the tower
+of the town hall had just struck half after seven--the occupants of the
+corner study were interested in things other than the view.
+
+I have said that they were sitting. Lounging would be nearer the truth;
+for one, a boy of eighteen years, with merry blue eyes and cheeks
+flushed ruddily with health and the afterglow of the day's excitement,
+with hair just the color of raw silk that took on a glint of gold where
+the light fell upon it, was perched cross-legged amid the cushions at
+one end of the big couch, two strong, tanned, and much-scarred hands
+clasping his knees. His companion and his junior by but two months, a
+dark-complexioned youth with black hair and eyes and a careless,
+good-natured, but rather wilful face, on which at the present moment the
+most noticeable feature was a badly cut and much swollen lower lip, lay
+sprawled at the other end of the couch, his chin buried in one palm.
+
+Both lads were well built, broad of chest, and long of limb, with
+bright, clear eyes, and a warmth of color that betokened the best of
+physical condition. They had been friends and room-mates for two years.
+This was their last year at Hillton, and next fall they were to begin
+their college life together. The dark-complexioned youth rolled lazily
+on to his back and stared at the ceiling. Then--
+
+"I suppose Crozier will get the captaincy, Neil."
+
+The boy with light hair nodded without removing his gaze from the little
+flames that danced in the fireplace. They had discussed the day's
+happenings thoroughly, had relived the game with St. Eustace from start
+to finish, and now the big Thanksgiving dinner which they had eaten was
+beginning to work upon them a spell of dormancy. It was awfully jolly,
+thought Neil Fletcher, to just lie there and watch the flames
+and--and--He sighed comfortably and closed his eyes. At eight o'clock
+he, with the rest of the victorious team, was to be drawn about the town
+in a barge and cheered at, but meanwhile there was time to just close
+his eyes--and forget--everything--
+
+There was a knock at the study door.
+
+"Go 'way!" grunted Neil.
+
+"Oh, come in," called Paul Gale, without, however, removing his drowsy
+gaze from the ceiling or changing his position.
+
+"I beg your pardon. I am looking for Mr. Gale, and--"
+
+Paul dropped his legs over the side of the couch and sat up, blinking at
+the visitor. Neil followed his example. The caller was a carefully
+dressed man of about thirty-five, scarcely taller than Neil, but broader
+of shoulder. Paul recognized him, and, rising, shook hands.
+
+"How do you do, Mr. Brill? Glad to see you. Sit down, won't you? I guess
+we were both pretty nigh asleep when you knocked."
+
+"Small wonder," responded the visitor affably. "After the work you did
+this afternoon you deserve sleep, and anything else you want." He laid
+aside his coat and hat and sank into the chair which Paul proffered.
+
+"By the way," continued the latter, "I don't think you've met my friend,
+Neil Fletcher. Neil, this is Mr. Brill, of Robinson; one of their
+coaches." The two shook hands.
+
+"I'm delighted to meet the hero--I should say one of the heroes--of the
+day," said Mr. Brill. "That run was splendid; the way in which you two
+fellows got your speed up before you reached the line was worth coming
+over here to see, really it was."
+
+"Yes, Paul set a pretty good pace," answered Neil.
+
+The visitor discussed the day's contest for a few minutes, during which
+Neil glanced uneasily from time to time at the clock, wondered what the
+visitor wanted there, and heartily wished he'd take himself off. But
+presently Mr. Brill got down to business.
+
+"You know we've had a little victory in football ourselves this fall,"
+he was saying. "We won from Erskine by 17 to 6 last week, and we're
+feeling rather stuck up over it."
+
+"Wait till next year," said Neil to himself, "and you'll get over it."
+
+"And that," continued the coach, "brings me to the object of my call
+tonight. Frankly, we want you two fellows at Robinson College, and I'm
+here to see if we can't have you." He paused and smiled engagingly at
+the boys. Neil glanced surprisedly at Paul, who was thoughtfully
+examining the scars on his knuckles. "Don't decide until I've explained
+matters more clearly," went on the visitor. "Perhaps neither of you have
+been to Collegetown, but at least you know about where Robinson stands
+in the athletic world, and you know that as an institution of learning
+it is in the front rank of the smaller colleges; in fact, in certain
+lines it might dispute the place of honor with some of the big ones.
+
+"To the fellow who wants a college where he can learn and where, at the
+same time, he can give some attention to athletics, Robinson's bound to
+recommend itself. I mention this because you know as well as I do that
+there are colleges--I mention no names--where a born football player,
+such as either of you, would simply be lost; where he would be tied down
+by such stringent rules that he could never amount to anything on the
+gridiron. I don't mean to say that at Robinson the faculty is lax
+regarding standing or attendance at lectures, but I do say that it holds
+common-sense views on the subject of college athletics, and does not
+hound a man to death simply because he happens to belong to the football
+eleven or the crew.
+
+"Robinson is always on the lookout for first-class football, baseball,
+or rowing material, and she believes in offering encouragement to such
+material. She doesn't favor underhand methods, you understand; no hiring
+of players, no free scholarships--though there are plenty of them for
+those who will work for them--none of that sort of thing. But she is
+willing to meet you half-way. The proposition which I am authorized to
+make is briefly this"--the speaker leaned forward, smiling frankly, and
+tapped a forefinger on the palm of his other hand--"If you, Mr. Gale,
+and you, Mr. Fletcher, will enter Robinson next September, the--ah--the
+athletic authorities will guarantee you positions on the varsity eleven.
+Besides this, you will be given free tutoring for the entrance exams,
+and afterward, so long as you remain on the team, in any studies with
+which you may have difficulty. Now, there is a fair, honest proposition,
+and one which I sincerely trust you will accept. We want you both, and
+we're willing to do all that we can--in honesty, that is--to get you.
+Now, what do you say?"
+
+During this recital Neil's dislike of the speaker had steadily
+increased, and now, under the other's smiling regard, he had difficulty
+in keeping from his face some show of his emotions. Paul looked up from
+his scarred knuckles and eyed Neil furtively before he turned to
+the coach.
+
+"Of course," he said, "this is rather unexpected."
+
+The coach's eyes flickered for an instant with amusement.
+
+"For my part," Neil broke in almost angrily, "I'm due in September at
+Erskine, and unless Paul's changed his mind since yesterday so's he."
+
+The Robinson coach raised his eyebrows in simulated surprise.
+
+"Ah," he said slowly, "Erskine?"
+
+"Yes, Erskine," answered Neil rather discourteously. A faint flush of
+displeasure crept into Mr. Brill's cheeks, but he smiled as
+pleasantly as ever.
+
+"And your friend has contemplated ruining his football career in the
+same manner, has he?" he asked politely, turning his gaze as he spoke
+on Paul. The latter fidgeted in his chair and looked over a trifle
+defiantly at his room-mate.
+
+"I had thought of going to Erskine," he answered. "In fact"--observing
+Neil's wide-eyed surprise at his choice of words--"in fact, I had
+arranged to do so. But--but, of course, nothing has been settled
+definitely."
+
+"But, Paul--" exclaimed Neil.
+
+"Well, I'm glad to hear that," interrupted Mr. Brill. "For in my opinion
+it would simply be a waste of your opportunities and--ah--abilities,
+Mr. Gale."
+
+"Well, of course, if a fellow doesn't have to bother too much about
+studies," said Paul haltingly, "he can do better work on the team; there
+can't be any question about that, I guess."
+
+"None at all," responded the coach.
+
+Neil stared at his chum indignantly.
+
+"You're talking rot," he growled. Paul flushed and returned his look
+angrily.
+
+"I suppose I have the right to manage my own affairs?" he demanded. Neil
+realized his mistake and, with an effort, held his peace. Mr. Brill
+turned to him.
+
+"I fear there's no use in attempting to persuade you to come to us
+also?" he said. Neil shook his head silently. Then, realizing that Paul
+was quite capable, in his present fit of stubbornness, of promising to
+enter Robinson if only to spite his room-mate, Neil used guile.
+
+"Anyhow, September's a long way off," he said, "and I don't see that
+it's necessary to decide to-night. Perhaps we had both better take a day
+or two to think it over. I guess Mr. Brill won't insist on a final
+answer to-night."
+
+The Robinson coach hesitated, but then answered readily enough:
+
+"Certainly not. Think it over; only, if possible, let me hear your
+decision to-morrow, as I am leaving town then."
+
+"Well, as far as I'm concerned," said Paul, "I don't see any use in
+putting it off. I'm willing--"
+
+Neil jumped to his feet. A burst of martial music swept up to them as
+the school band, followed by a host of their fellows, turned the corner
+of the building.
+
+"Come on, Paul," he cried; "get your coat on. Mr. Brill will excuse us
+if we leave him; we mustn't keep the fellows waiting. And we can think
+the matter over, eh, Paul? And we'll let him know in the morning. Here's
+your coat. Good-night, sir, good-night." He was holding the door open
+and smiling politely. Paul, scowling, arose and shook hands with the
+Robinson emissary. Neil kept up a steady stream of talk, and his chum
+could only mutter vague words about his pleasure at Mr. Brill's call and
+about seeing him to-morrow. When the door had closed behind him the
+coach stood a moment in the hall and thoughtfully buttoned his coat.
+
+"I think I've got Gale all right," he said to himself, "but"--with a
+slight smile--"the other chap was too smart for me. And, confound him,
+he's just the sort we need!"
+
+When he reached the entrance he was obliged to elbow his way through a
+solid throng of shouting youths who with excited faces and waving caps
+and flags informed the starlight winter sky over and over that they
+wanted Gale and Fletcher, to which demand the band lent hearty if rather
+discordant emphasis.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+A good deal happened in the next two hours, but nothing that is
+pertinent to this narrative. Victorious Hillton elevens have been hauled
+through the village and out to the field many times in past years, and
+bonfires have flared and speeches have been made by players and faculty,
+and all very much as happened on this occasion. Neil and Paul returned
+to their room at ten o'clock, tired, happy, with the cheers and the
+songs still echoing in their ears.
+
+Paul had apparently forgotten his resentment toward Neil and the whole
+matter of Brill's proposition. But Neil hadn't, and presently, when they
+were preparing for bed, he returned doggedly to the charge.
+
+"When did you meet that fellow Brill?" he asked.
+
+"In Gardiner's room this morning; he introduced us." Paul began to look
+sulky again. "Seems a decent sort, I think," he added defiantly. Neil
+accepted the challenge.
+
+"I dare say," he answered carelessly. "There's only one thing I've got
+against him."
+
+"What's that?" questioned Paul suspiciously.
+
+"His errand."
+
+"What's wrong with his errand?"
+
+"Everything, Paul. You know as well as I that his offer is--well, it's
+shady, to say the least. Who ever heard of a decent college offering
+free tutoring in order to get fellows for its football team?"
+
+"Lots of them do," growled Paul.
+
+"No, they don't; not decent ones. Some do, I know; but they're not
+colleges a fellow cares to go to. Every one knows what rotten shape
+Robinson athletics are in; the papers have been full of it for two
+years. Their center rush this fall, Harden, just went there to play on
+the team, and everybody says that he got his tuition free. You don't
+want to play on a team like that and have people say things like that
+about you. I'm sure I don't."
+
+"Oh, you!" sneered Paul. "You're getting crankier and crankier every
+day. I'll bet you're just huffy because Brill didn't ask you first."
+
+Neil flushed, but kept his temper.
+
+"You don't think anything of the sort, Paul. Besides--"
+
+"It looks that way," muttered Paul.
+
+"Besides," continued Neil calmly, "what's the advantage in going to
+Robinson? We've arranged everything; we've got our rooms picked out at
+Erskine; there are lots of fellows there we know; the college is the
+best of its class and its athletics are honest. If you play on the
+Erskine team you'll be somebody, and folks won't hint that you're
+receiving money or free scholarships or something for doing it. And as
+for Brill's guarantee of a place on the team, why, there's only one
+decent way to get on a football team, and that's by good, hard work; and
+there's no reason for doubting that you'll make the Erskine
+varsity eleven."
+
+"Yes, there is, too," answered Paul angrily. "They've got lots of good
+players at Erskine, and you and I won't stand any better show than a
+dozen others."
+
+"I don't want to."
+
+"Huh! Well, I do; that is, I want to make the team. Besides, as Brill
+said, if a fellow has the faculty after him all the time about studies
+he can't do decent work on the team. I don't see anything wrong in it,
+and--and I'm going. I'll tell Brill so to-morrow!"
+
+Neil drew his bath-robe about him, and looked thoughtfully into the
+flames. So far he had lost, but he had one more card to play. He turned
+and faced Paul's angry countenance.
+
+"Well, if I should go to Robinson and play on her team under the
+conditions offered by that--by Brill I'd feel disgraced."
+
+"You'd better stay away, then," answered Paul hotly.
+
+"I wouldn't want to show my face around Hillton afterward, and if I met
+Gardiner or 'Wheels' I'd take the other side of the street."
+
+"Oh, you would?" cried his room-mate. "You're trying to make yourself
+out a little fluffy angel, aren't you? And I suppose I'm not good enough
+to associate with you, am I? Well, if that's it, all I've got to say--"
+
+"But," continued Neil equably, "if you accept Brill's offer, so will I."
+
+Paul paused open-mouthed and stared at his chum. Then his eyes dropped
+and he busied himself with a stubborn stocking. Finally, with a muttered
+"Humph!" he gathered up his clothing and disappeared into the bedroom.
+Neil turned and smiled at the flames and, finding his own apparel,
+followed. Nothing more was said. Paul splashed the water about even more
+than usual and tumbled silently into bed. Neil put out the study light
+and followed suit.
+
+"Good-night," he said.
+
+"Good-night," growled Paul.
+
+It had been a hard day and an exciting one, and Neil went to sleep
+almost as soon as his head touched the pillow. It seemed hours later,
+though in reality but some twenty minutes, that he was awakened by
+hearing his name called. He sat up quickly.
+
+"Hello! What?" he shouted.
+
+"Shut up," answered Paul from across in the darkness. "I didn't know you
+were asleep. I only wanted to say--to tell you--that--that I've decided
+not to go to Robinson!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+IN NEW QUARTERS
+
+Almost every one has heard of Erskine College. For the benefit of the
+few who have not, and lest they confound it with Williams or Dartmouth
+or Bowdoin or some other of its New England neighbors, it may be well to
+tell something about it. Erskine College is still in its infancy, as New
+England universities go, with its centennial yet eight years distant.
+But it has its own share of historic associations, and although the big
+elm in the center of the campus was not planted until 1812 it has shaded
+many youths who in later years have by good deeds and great
+accomplishments endeared themselves to country and alma mater.
+
+In the middle of the last century, when Erskine was little more than an
+academy, it was often called "the little green school at Centerport." It
+is not so little now, but it's greener than ever. Wide-spreading elms
+grow everywhere; in serried ranks within the college grounds, in smaller
+detachments throughout the village, in picket lines along the river and
+out into the country. The grass grows lush wherever it can gain hold,
+and, not content with having its own way on green and campus, is forever
+attempting the conquest of path and road. The warm red bricks of the
+college buildings are well-nigh hidden by ivy, which, too, is an ardent
+expansionist. And where neither grass nor ivy can subjugate, soft,
+velvety moss reigns humbly.
+
+In the year 1901, which is the period of this story, the enrolment in
+all departments at Erskine was close to six hundred students. The
+freshman class, as had been the case for many years past, was the
+largest in the history of the college. It numbered 180; but of this
+number we are at present chiefly interested in only two; and these two,
+at the moment when this chapter begins--which, to be exact, is eight
+o'clock of the evening of the twenty-fourth day of September in the year
+above mentioned--were busily at work in a first-floor study in the
+boarding-house of Mrs. Curtis on Elm Street.
+
+It were perhaps more truthful to say that one was busily at work and the
+other was busily advising and directing. Neil Fletcher stood on a small
+table, which swayed perilously from side to side at his every movement,
+and drove nails into an already much mutilated wall. Paul Gale sat in a
+hospitable armchair upholstered in a good imitation of green leather and
+nodded approval.
+
+"That'll do for 'Old Abe'; now hang The First Snow a bit to the left and
+underneath."
+
+"The First Snow hasn't any wire on it," complained Neil. "See if you
+can't find some."
+
+"Wire's all gone," answered Paul. "We'll have to get some more. Where's
+that list? Oh, here it is. 'Item, picture wire.' I say, what in
+thunder's this you've got down--'Ring for waistband'?"
+
+"Rug for wash-stand, you idiot! I guess we'll have to quit until we get
+some more wire, eh? Or we might hang a few of them with boot-laces and
+neckties?"
+
+"Oh, let's call it off. I'm tired," answered Paul with a grin. "The room
+begins to look rather decent, doesn't it? We must change that couch,
+though; put it the other way so the ravelings won't show. And that
+picture of--"
+
+But just here Neil attempted to step from the table and landed in a heap
+on the floor, and Paul forgot criticism in joyful applause.
+
+"Oh, noble work! Do it again, old man; I didn't see the take-off!"
+
+But Neil refused, and plumping himself into a wicker rocking-chair that
+creaked complainingly, rubbed the dust from his hands to his trousers
+and looked about the study approvingly.
+
+"We're going to be jolly comfy here, Paul," he said. "Mrs. Curtis is
+going to get a new globe for that fixture over there."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"Then we will be," said Paul. "And if she would only find us a
+towel-rack that didn't fall into twelve separate pieces like a Chinese
+puzzle every time a chap put a towel on it we'd be simply reveling
+in luxury."
+
+"I think I can fix that thing with string," answered Neil. "Or we might
+buy one of those nickel-plated affairs that you screw into the wall."
+
+"The sort that always dump the towels on to the floor, you mean? Yes, we
+might. Of course, they're of no practical value judged as towel-racks,
+but they're terribly ornamental. You know we had one in the bath-room at
+the beach. Remember? When you got through your bath and groped round for
+the towel it was always lying on the floor just out of reach."
+
+"Yes, I remember," answered Neil, smiling. "We had rather a good time,
+didn't we, at Seabright? It was awfully nice of you to ask me down
+there, Paul; and your folks were mighty good to me. Next summer I want
+you to come up to New Hampshire and see us for a while. Of course, we
+can't give you sea bathing, and you won't look like a red Indian when
+you go home, but we could have a good time just the same."
+
+"Red Indian yourself!" cried Paul. "You're nearly twice as tanned as I
+am. I don't see how you did it. I was there pretty near all summer and
+you stayed just three weeks; and look at us! I'm as white as a sheet
+of paper--"
+
+"Yes, brown paper," interpolated Neil.
+
+"And you have a complexion like a--a football after a hard game."
+
+Neil grinned, then--
+
+"By the way," he said, "did I tell you I'd heard from Crozier?"
+
+"About Billy and the ducks? And Gordon's not going back to Hillton? Yes,
+you got that at the beach; remember?"
+
+"So I did. 'Old Cro' will be up to his ears in trouble pretty soon,
+won't he? I'm glad they made him captain, awfully glad. I think he can
+turn out a team that'll rub it into St. Eustace again just as you did
+last year."
+
+"Yes; and Gardiner's going to coach again." Paul smiled reminiscently.
+Then, "By Jove, it does seem funny not to be going back to old Hillton,
+doesn't it? I suppose after a while a fellow'll get to feeling at home
+here, but just at present--" He sighed and shook his head.
+
+"Wait until college opens to-morrow and we get to work; we won't have
+much time to feel much of anything, I guess. Practise is called for four
+o'clock. I wonder--I wonder if we'll make the team?"
+
+"Why not?" objected Paul. "If I thought I wouldn't I think I'd pitch it
+all up and--and go to Robinson!" He grinned across at his chum.
+
+"You stay here and you'll get a chance to go _at_ Robinson; that's a
+heap more satisfactory."
+
+"Well, I'm going to make the varsity, Neil. I've set my heart on that,
+and what I make up my mind to do I sometimes most always generally do.
+I'm not troubling, my boy; I'll show them a few tricks about playing
+half-back that'll open their eyes. You wait and see!"
+
+Neil looked as though he was not quite certain as to that, but said
+nothing, and Paul went on:
+
+"I wonder what sort of a fellow this Devoe is?"
+
+"Well, I've never seen him, but we know that he's about as good an end
+as there is in college to-day; and I guess he's bound to be the right
+sort or they wouldn't have made him captain."
+
+"He's a senior, isn't he?"
+
+"Yes; he's played only two years, and they say he's going into the Yale
+Law School next year. If he does, of course he'll get on the team there.
+Well, I hope he'll take pity on two ambitious but unprotected
+freshmen and--"
+
+There was a knock at the study door and Paul jumped forward and threw it
+open. A tall youth of twenty-one or twenty-two years of age stood in
+the doorway.
+
+"I'm looking for Mr. Gale and Mr. Fletcher. Have I hit it right?"
+
+"I'm Gale," answered Paul, "and that's Fletcher. Won't you come in?" The
+visitor entered.
+
+"My name's Devoe," he explained smilingly. "I'm captain of the football
+team this year, and as you two fellows are, of course, going to try for
+the team, I thought we'd better get acquainted." He accepted the squeaky
+rocking-chair and allowed Paul to take his straw hat. Neil thought he'd
+ought to shake hands, but as Devoe made no move in that direction he
+retired to another seat and grinned hospitably instead.
+
+"I've heard of the good work you chaps did for Hillton last year, and I
+was mighty glad when I learned from Gardiner that you were coming
+up here."
+
+"You know Gardiner?" asked Neil.
+
+"No, I've never met him, but of course every football man knows who he
+is. He wrote to me in the spring that you were coming, and rather
+intimated that if I knew my business I'd keep an eye on you and see that
+you didn't get lost in the shuffle. So here I am."
+
+"He didn't say anything about having written," pondered Neil.
+
+"Oh, he wouldn't," answered Devoe. "Well, how do you like us as far as
+you've seen us?"
+
+"We only got here yesterday," replied Paul. "I think it looks like
+rather a jolly sort of place; awfully pretty, you know,
+and--er--historic."
+
+"Yes, it is pretty; historic too; and it's the finest young college in
+the country, bar none," answered Devoe. "You'll like it when you get
+used to it. I like it so well I wish I wasn't going to leave it in the
+spring. Very cozy quarters you have here." He looked about the study.
+
+"They'll do," answered Neil modestly. "Of course we couldn't get rooms
+in the Yard, and we liked this as well as anything we saw outside. The
+view's rather good from the windows."
+
+"Yes, I know; you have the common and pretty much the whole college in
+sight; it is good." Devoe brought his gaze back and fixed it on Neil.
+"You played left half, didn't you?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"What's your weight?"
+
+"I haven't weighed this summer," answered Neil. "In the spring I was a
+hundred and sixty-two."
+
+"Good. We need some heavy backs. How about you, Gale?"
+
+"About a hundred and sixty."
+
+"Of course I haven't seen the new material yet," continued Devoe, "but
+the last year's men we have are a bit light, take them all around.
+That's what beat us, you see; Robinson had an unusually heavy line and
+rather heavy backs. They plowed through us without trouble."
+
+Neil studied the football captain with some interest. He saw a tall and
+fairly heavy youth, with well-set head and broad shoulders. He looked
+quite as fast on his feet as rumor credited him with being, and his dark
+eyes, sharp and steady in their regard, suggested both courage and
+ability to lead. His other features were strong, the nose a trifle
+heavy, the mouth usually unsmiling, the chin determined, and the
+forehead, set off by carefully brushed dark-brown hair, high and broad.
+After the first few moments of conversation Devoe devoted his attention
+principally to Neil, questioning him regarding Gardiner's coaching
+methods, about Neil's experience on the gridiron, as to what studies he
+was taking up. Occasionally he included Paul in the conversation, but
+that youth discovered, with surprise and chagrin, that he was apparently
+of much less interest to Devoe than was Neil. After a while he dropped
+out of the talk altogether, save when directly appealed to, and sat
+silent with an expression of elaborate unconcern. At the end of half an
+hour Devoe arose.
+
+"I must be getting on," he announced. "I'm glad we've had this talk, and
+I hope you'll both come over some evening and call on me; I'm in Morris,
+No. 8. We've got our work cut out this fall, and I hope we'll all pull
+together." He smiled across at Paul, evidently unaware of having
+neglected that young gentleman in his conversation. "Good-night. Four
+o'clock to-morrow is the hour."
+
+"I never met any one that could ask more questions than he can,"
+exclaimed Neil when Devoe was safely out of hearing. "But I suppose
+that's the way to learn, eh?"
+
+Paul yawned loudly and shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"Funny he should have come just when we were talking about him, wasn't
+it?" Neil pursued. "What do you think of him?"
+
+"Well, if you ask me," Paul answered, "I think he's a conceited,
+stuck-up prig!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+NEIL MAKES ACQUAINTANCES
+
+Neil's and Paul's college life began early the next morning when,
+sitting side by side in the dim, hushed chapel, they heard white-haired
+Dr. Garrison ask for them divine aid and guidance. Splashes and flecks
+of purple and rose and golden light rested here and there on bowed head
+and shoulders or lay in shafts across the aisles. From where he sat Neil
+could look through an open window out into the morning world of greenery
+and sunlight. On the swaying branch of an elm that almost brushed the
+casement a thrush sang sweet and clear a matin of his own. Neil made
+several good resolutions that morning there in the chapel, some of which
+he profited by, all of which he sincerely meant. And even Paul, far less
+impressionable than his friend, looked uncommonly thoughtful all the way
+back to their room, a way that led through the elm-arched nave of
+College Place and across the common with its broad expanses of
+sun-flecked sward and its simple granite shaft commemorating the heroes
+of the civil war.
+
+At nine o'clock, with the sound of the pealing bell again in their ears,
+with their books under their arms and their hearts beating a little
+faster than usual with pleasurable excitement, they retraced their path
+and mounted the well-worn granite steps of College Hall for their first
+recitation. What with the novelty of it all the day passed quickly
+enough, and four o'clock found the two lads dressed in football togs and
+awaiting the beginning of practise.
+
+There were some sixty candidates in sight, boys--some of them men as far
+as years go--of all sizes and ages, several at the first glance
+revealing the hopelessness of their ambitions. The names were taken and
+fall practise at Erskine began.
+
+The candidates were placed on opposite sides of the gridiron, and half a
+dozen footballs were produced. Punting and catching punts was the order
+of the day, and Neil was soon busily at work. The afternoon was warm,
+but not uncomfortably so, the turf was springy underfoot, the sky was
+blue from edge to edge, the new men supplied plenty of amusement in
+their efforts, the pigskins bumped into his arms in the manner of old
+friends, and Neil was happy as a lark. After one catch for which he had
+to run back several yards, he let himself out and booted the leather
+with every ounce of strength. The ball sailed high in a long arching
+flight, and sent several men across the field scampering back into the
+grand stand for it.
+
+"I guess you've done that before," said a voice beside him. A short,
+stockily-built youth with a round, smiling face and blue eyes that
+twinkled with fun and good spirits was observing him shrewdly.
+
+"Yes," answered Neil, "I have."
+
+"I thought so," was the reply. "But you're a freshman, aren't you?"
+
+"Yes," answered Neil, turning to let a low drive from across the
+gridiron settle into his arms. "And I guess you're not."
+
+"No, this is my third year. I've been on the team two." He paused to
+send a ball back, and then wiped the perspiration from his forehead. "I
+was quarter last year."
+
+"Oh," said Neil, observing his neighbor with interest, "then you're
+Foster?"
+
+"That's me. What are you trying for?"
+
+"Half-back. I played three years at Hillton."
+
+"Of course; you're the fellow Bob Devoe was talking about--or one of
+them; I think he said there were two of you. Which one are you?"
+
+"I'm the other one," laughed Neil. "I'm Fletcher. That's Gale over
+there, the fellow in the old red shirt; he was our captain at Hillton
+last year."
+
+Foster looked across at Paul and then back at Neil. He was evidently
+comparing them. He shook his head.
+
+"It's a good thing he's got dark hair and you've got light," he said.
+"Otherwise you wouldn't know yourselves apart; you're just of a height
+and build, and weight, too, I guess. Are you related?"
+
+"No. But we are pretty much the same height and weight. He's half an
+inch taller, and I think I weigh two pounds more."
+
+In the intervals of catching and returning punts the acquaintance
+ripened. When, at the end of three-quarters of an hour, Devoe gave the
+order to quit and the trainer sent them twice about the gridiron on a
+trot, Neil found Foster ambling along beside him.
+
+"Phew!" exclaimed the latter. "I guess I lived too high last summer and
+put on weight. This is taking it out of me finely; I can feel whole
+pounds melting off. It doesn't seem to bother you any," he added.
+
+"No, I haven't much flesh about me," panted Neil; "but I'm glad this is
+the last time around, just the same!"
+
+After their baths in the little green-roofed locker-house the two walked
+back to the yard together, Paul, as Neil saw, being in close
+companionship with a big youth whose name, according to Foster, was
+Tom Cowan.
+
+"He played right-guard last year," said Foster. "He's a soph; this is
+his third year."
+
+"Third year!" exclaimed Neil. "But how--"
+
+"Oh, Cowan was too busy to pass his exams last year," said Foster with a
+grin. "So they let him stay a soph. He doesn't care; a little thing
+like that never bothers Cowan." His tone was rather contemptuous.
+
+"Is he liked?" Neil asked.
+
+"Oh, yes; he's very popular among a small and select circle of
+friends--a very small circle." Then he dismissed Cowan with an airy wave
+of one hand. "By the way," he continued, "have you any candidate for the
+presidency of your class?"
+
+"No," Neil replied. "I haven't heard anything about it yet."
+
+"Good; then you can vote for 'Fan' Livingston. He's a _protégé_ of mine,
+you see; used to know him at St. Mathias; you'll like him. He's an
+awfully good, manly, straightforward chap, just the fellow for the
+place. The election comes off next Thursday evening. How about
+your friend?"
+
+"Gale? I don't think he has any one in view. I guess you can count on
+his vote, too."
+
+"Thanks; just mention it to him, will you? I'm booming Livingston, and I
+want to see him win. Can't you come round some evening the first of the
+week? I'd like you to meet him. And meanwhile just talk him up a bit,
+will you?"
+
+Neil promised and made an appointment to meet the candidate the
+following Saturday night at Foster's room in McLean Hall. The two parted
+at the gate, Foster going up to his room and Neil traversing the campus
+and the common to his own quarters. As he opened the study door he was
+surprised to hear voices within. Paul and his new acquaintance, Tom
+Cowan, were sitting side by side on the window-seat.
+
+"Hello," greeted the former. "How'd it go? Like old times, wasn't it?
+Neil, I want you to meet Mr. Cowan. Cowan has quarters up-stairs here.
+He's an old player, and we've been telling each other how good we are."
+
+Cowan looked for an instant as though he didn't quite appreciate the
+latter remark, but summoned a smile as he shook hands with Neil and
+complimented him on his playing in Hillton's last game with St. Eustace.
+Neil replied with extraordinary politeness. He was always
+extraordinarily polite to persons he didn't fancy, and his dislike of
+Cowan was instant and hearty. Cowan looked to be fully twenty-three
+years old, and owned to being twenty-one. He was fully six feet two, and
+apparently weighed about two hundred pounds. His face was rather
+handsome in a coarse, heavy-featured style, and his hands, as Neil
+observed, were not quite clean. Later, Neil discovered that they
+never were.
+
+After listening politely for some moments to Cowan's tales of former
+football triumphs and defeats, in all of which the narrator played,
+according to his words, a prominent part, Neil broke into the stream of
+his eloquence and told Paul of his meeting with Foster, and of their
+talk regarding the freshman presidency.
+
+"Well," answered Paul, smiling at Cowan, "you'll have to get out of that
+promise to Foster or whatever his name is, because we've got a plan
+better than that. The fact is, Neil, I'm going to try for the
+presidency myself!"
+
+"I suppose you're fooling?" gasped Neil.
+
+"Not a bit! Why shouldn't I have a fling at it? Cowan here has promised
+to help; in fact, it was he that suggested it. With his help and yours,
+and with the kind assistance of one or two fellows I know here, I dare
+say I can pull out on top. Anyhow, there's no harm in trying."
+
+"I think you'll win," said Cowan. "This chump Livingston that Foster is
+booming is a regular milksop; does nothing but grind, so they say; came
+out of St. Mathias with all kinds of silly prizes and such. What the
+fellows always want is a good, popular chap that goes in for athletics
+and that will make a name for himself."
+
+"Foster said Livingston was something of a dab at baseball," said Neil.
+
+"Baseball!" cried Cowan. "What's baseball? Why not puss-in-the-corner? A
+chap with a football reputation like Gale here can walk all round your
+baseball man. We'll carry it with a rush! You'll see! Freshmen are like
+a lot of sheep--show 'em the way and they'll fall over themselves to
+get there."
+
+"Well, we're freshmen ourselves, you know," said Neil sweetly. Cowan
+looked nonplussed for a moment. Then--
+
+"Oh, but you fellows are different; you've got sense. I was speaking of
+the general run of freshmen," he explained.
+
+"Thanks," murmured Neil. Paul scented danger.
+
+"I'll put the campaign in your hands and Cowan's, Neil," he said. "You
+know several fellows here--there's Wallace and Knowles and Jones.
+They're not freshmen, but they can give you introductions. Knowles is a
+St. Agnes man and there are lots of St. Agnes fellows in our class."
+
+"I think you're making a mistake," answered Neil soberly, "and I wish
+you'd give it up. Livingston's got lots of supporters, and he's had his
+campaign under way for a week. If you're defeated I think it'll hurt
+you; fellows don't like defeated candidates when--when they're
+self-appointed candidates."
+
+"Oh, of course, if you don't want to help," cried Paul, with a trace of
+anger in his voice, "I guess we can get on without you."
+
+"I'm sure you won't desert your chum, Fletcher," said Cowan. "And I
+think you're all wrong about defeated candidates. If a fellow makes a
+good fight and is worsted no fellow that isn't a cad does other than
+honor him."
+
+"Well, if you've made up your mind, Paul," answered Neil reluctantly,
+"of course I'll do all I can if Foster will let me out of my promise
+to him."
+
+"Oh, hang Foster!" cried Cowan. "He's a little fool!"
+
+"Is he?" asked Neil innocently. "I hadn't noticed it. Well, as I say,
+I'll do all I can. And I'll begin now by going over to see him."
+
+"That's the boy," said Paul. "Tell Foster there's a dark horse in the
+field."
+
+"And tell him I say the dark horse will win," added Cowan.
+
+Neil smiled back politely from the doorway.
+
+"I don't think I'd better mention your name, Mr. Cowan." He closed the
+door behind him, leaving Cowan much puzzled as to the meaning of the
+last remark, and sought No. 12 McLean. He found the varsity quarter-back
+writing a letter by means of a small typewriter, his brow heavily
+creased with scowls and his feet kicking exasperatedly at the legs of
+his chair.
+
+"Hello," was Foster's greeting. "Come in. And, I say, just look around
+on the floor there, will you, and see if you can find an L."
+
+"Find what?" asked Neil, searching the carpet with his gaze.
+
+"An L. There was one on this pesky machine a while ago, but
+I--can't--find--Ah, here it is! 'L-O-V-I-N-G-L-Y, T-E-D'! There, that's
+done. I bought this idiotic thing because some one said you could write
+letters on it in half the time it takes with a pen. Well, I began this
+letter last night, and I guess I've spent fully two hours on it
+altogether. For two cents I'd pitch it out the window!" He pushed back
+his chair and glared vindictively at the typewriter. "And look at the
+result!" He held up a sheet of paper half covered with strange
+characters and erasures. "Look how I've spelled 'allowance'--alliwzee!
+Do you think dad will know what I mean?"
+
+Neil shook his head dubiously.
+
+"Not unless he's looking for the word," he answered.
+
+"Well, he will be," grinned Foster. "Don't suppose you want to buy a
+fine typewriter at half price, do you?"
+
+Neil was sure he didn't and broached the subject of his call. Foster
+showed some amazement when he learned of Gale's candidacy, but at once
+absolved Neil from his promise.
+
+"Frankly, Fletcher, I don't think your friend has the ghost of a show,
+you know, but, of course, if he wants to try it it's all right. And I'm
+just as much obliged to you."
+
+During the next week Neil worked early and late for Paul's success. He
+made some converts, but not enough to give him much hope. Livingston was
+easily the popular candidate for the presidency, and Neil failed to
+understand where Cowan found ground for the encouraging reports that he
+made to Paul. Paul himself was hopeful all the way through, and lent ill
+attention to Neil's predictions of failure.
+
+"You always were a raven, chum," he would exclaim. "Wait until Thursday
+night."
+
+And Neil, without much hope, waited.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+AND SHOWS HIS METTLE
+
+The freshman election took place in one of the lecture rooms of Grace
+Hall. There was a full attendance of the entering class, while the
+absence of sophomores was considered by those who had heard of former
+freshman elections at Erskine as something unnatural and of
+evil portent.
+
+Paul, robbed of the support of Tom Cowan's presence, was noticeably ill
+at ease, and for the first time appeared to be in doubt as to his
+election. Fanwell Livingston was put in nomination by one of his St.
+Mathias friends in a speech that secured wide applause, and the
+nomination was duly seconded by a red-headed and very eloquent youth
+who, so Neil learned, was King, the captain of the St. Mathias baseball
+team of the preceding spring.
+
+"Are there any more nominations?" asked the chairman, a member of the
+junior class.
+
+South, a Hillton boy, arose and spoke at some length of the courage and
+ability for leadership of one of whom they had all heard; "of one who
+on the white-grilled field of battle had successfully led the hosts of
+Hillton Academy against the St. Eustace hosts." (Two St. Eustace
+graduates howled derisively.) South ended in a wild burst of flowery
+eloquence and placed in nomination "that triumphant football captain,
+that best of good fellows, Paul Dunlop Gale!"
+
+The applause which followed was flattering, though, had Paul but known
+it, it was rather for the speech than the nominee. And the effect was
+somewhat marred by several inquiries from different parts of the hall as
+to who in thunder Gale was. Neil secured recognition ere the applause
+had subsided, and seconded the nomination. He avoided rhetoric, and told
+his classmates in few words and simple phrases that Paul Gale possessed
+pluck, generalship, and executive ability; that he had proved this at
+Hillton, and, given the chance, would prove it again at Erskine.
+
+"Gale is a stranger to many of you fellows," he concluded, "but, whether
+you make him class president or whether you give that honor to another,
+he won't be a stranger long. A fellow that can pilot a Hillton football
+team to victory against almost overwhelming odds and through the
+greatest of difficulties as Gale did last year is not the sort to sit
+around in corners and watch the procession go by. No, sir; keep your eye
+on him. I'll wager that before the year's out you'll be prouder of him
+than of any man in your class. And, meanwhile, if you're looking for
+the right man for the presidency, a man that'll lead 1905 to a renown
+beside which the other classes will look like so many battered
+golf-balls, why, I've told you where to look."
+
+Neil sat down amid a veritable roar of applause, and Paul, totally
+unembarrassed by the praise and acclaim, smiled with satisfaction. "That
+was all right, chum," he whispered. "I guess we've got them on the
+run, eh?"
+
+But Neil shook his head doubtfully. Cries of "Vote! Vote!" arose, and in
+a moment or two the balloting began. While this was proceeding
+announcement was made that the annual Freshman Class Dinner would be
+held on the evening of the following Monday, October 7th. When the
+cheers occasioned by this information had subsided the chairman arose.
+
+"The result of the balloting, gentlemen," he announced, "is as follows:
+Livingston, 97; Gale, 45. Mr. Livingston is elected by a majority
+of 52."
+
+Shouts of "Livingston! Livingston! Speech! Speech!" filled the air, and
+were not stilled until some one arose and announced that the
+president-elect was not in the hall. Paul, after a glance of
+bewilderment at Neil, had sat silent in his chair with something between
+a sneer and a scowl on his face. Now he jumped up.
+
+"Come on; let's get out of here," he muttered. "They act like a lot of
+idiots." Neil followed, and they found themselves in a pushing throng at
+the door. The chairman was vainly clamoring for some one to put a motion
+to adjourn, but none heeded him. The crowd pushed and shoved, but made
+no progress.
+
+"Open that door," cried Paul.
+
+"Try it yourself," answered a voice up front. "It's locked!"
+
+A murmur arose that quickly gave place to cries of wrath and
+indignation. "The sophs did it!" "Where are they?" "Break the door
+down!" Those at the rear heaved and pushed.
+
+"Stop shoving, back there!" yelled those in front. "You're squashing us
+flat."
+
+"Everybody away from the door!" shouted Neil. "Let's see if we can't get
+it open." The fellows finally fell back to some extent, and Neil, Paul,
+and some of the others examined the lock. The key was still there, but,
+unfortunately, on the outside. Breaking the door down was utterly out of
+the question, since it was of solid oak and several inches thick. The
+self-appointed committee shook its several heads.
+
+"We'll have to yell for the janitor," said Neil. "Where does he hang
+out?"
+
+But none knew. Neil went to one of the three windows and raised it.
+Instantly a chorus of derision floated up from below. Gathered almost
+under the windows was a throng of sophomores, their upturned faces just
+visible in the darkness.
+
+"O Fresh! O Fresh!" "Want to come down?" "Why don't you jump?" These
+gibes were followed by cheers for "'04" and loud groans. Neil turned and
+faced his angry classmates.
+
+"Look here, fellows," he said, "we don't want to have to yell for the
+janitor with those sophs there; that's too babyish. The key's in the
+outside of the lock. I think I can get down all right by the ivy, and
+I'll unlock the door if those sophs will let me. If two or three of you
+will follow I guess we can do it all right."
+
+"Bully for you!" "Plucky boy!" cried the audience. But for a moment none
+came forward to share the risk. Then Paul pushed his way to the window.
+
+"Here, I'll go with you, chum," he said, with a suggestion of swagger.
+"We can manage those dubs down there alone. The rest of you can sit down
+and tell stories; we'll let you out in a minute," he added scathingly.
+
+"That's Gale," whispered some one. "Fresh kid!", added another angrily.
+But the gibe had the desired effect. Four other freshmen signified their
+willingness to die for their class, and Neil climbed on to the broad
+window-sill. His reappearance was the signal for another outburst from
+the watching sophomores.
+
+"Don't jump, sonny; you may hurt yourself." "He's going to fly, fellows!
+Good little Freshie's got wings!" "Say, we'll let you out in the
+morning! Good-night!"
+
+But when Neil, divesting himself of coat and shoes, swung out and laid
+hold of the largest of the big ivy branches that clung there to the
+wall, the jeers died away. The hall where the meeting had been held was
+on the third floor, and when Neil stepped from the window-sill he hung
+fully twenty-five feet from the ground. The ivy branch, ages old, was
+almost as large as his wrist, and quite strong enough to bear his weight
+just as long as it did not tear from its fastenings. Whether it would
+hold in place remained to be seen. Neil judged that if he could lower
+himself fifteen feet by its aid he could easily drop the rest of the
+distance without injury. The window above was black with watchers as he
+began his journey, and many voices cheered him on. Paul, his feet
+hanging over the black void, sat on the narrow ledge and waited
+his turn.
+
+"Go fast, chum," he counseled, "but don't lose your grip. I'll wait
+until you're down."
+
+"All right," answered Neil. Then, with a great rustling of the
+thick-growing leaves, he lowered himself by arm's lengths. The vine
+swayed and gave at every strain, but held. From below came the sound of
+clapping. Hand under hand he went. The oblong of faint light above
+receded fast. His stockinged feet gripped the vine tightly. In the group
+of sophomores the clapping grew into cheers.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"Good work, Freshie!" "You're all right!"
+
+Then, with the ground almost at his feet, Neil let go and dropped
+lightly into a bed of shrubbery. The fellows above applauded wildly.
+With a glance at the near-by group of sophomores, Neil ran. Several of
+the enemy started to intercept him, but were called back.
+
+"Let him go! He's all right! We've had our fun!" And Neil sprang up the
+steps and into the building without molestation. Meanwhile Paul was
+making his descent and receiving his meed of applause from friend and
+foe. And as he dropped to earth there came a sound of cheering from the
+building, and the freshmen, released by the unlocking of the door,
+emerged on to the steps and path.
+
+"Five this way!" was the cry. "Rush the sophs!"
+
+But wiser counsels prevailed and, each cheering loudly, the
+representatives of the rival classes took themselves off.
+
+Neil and Paul were the last to leave the building, since they had been
+obliged to return to the room for their shoes and coats. Paul had
+forgotten some of his disappointment during the later proceedings, and
+appeared very well satisfied with himself.
+
+"We showed them what Hillton chaps can do, chum," he said. "And I'll bet
+they'll regret electing that fellow Livingston before I'm through with
+them! Much I care about their old presidency! They're a pack of silly
+little kids, any way. Let's go to bed."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+MILLS, HEAD COACH
+
+"TO THE IN-FANTS OF 1905:
+
+"GREETING!
+
+"The class of 1904, an-i-mat-ed by the kind-li-est of sen-ti-ments, has,
+at an ex-pen-se of much time and thought, form-u-lat-ed the fol-low-ing
+RULES for the guid-ance of your todd-ling foot-steps at this the out-set
+of your col-lege car-eers. A strict ad-her-ence to these PRE-CEPTS will
+in-sure to you the ad-mi-ra-tion of your fond par-ents, the re-spect of
+your friends, and the love of the SOPH-O-MORE CLASS, which, in the
+ab-sence of rel-at-ives, will, with thought-ful, tender care, stand ever
+by to guard you from the world's hard knocks.
+
+"ATTEND, INFANTS!
+
+"1. R-spect for eld-ers and those in auth-or-ity is one of child-hood's
+most charm-ing traits. There-for take off your hat to all SOPH-O-MORES,
+and when in their pres-ence al-ways main-tain a def-er-en-tial sil-ence.
+
+"2. Tall hats and canes as art-i-cles of child-ren's attire are
+ex-treme-ly un-be-com-ing, and are there-for strict-ly pro-hib-it-ed.
+
+"3. Smok-ing, either of pipes, cig-ars, or cig-ar-ettes, stunts the
+growth and re-tards the dev-el-op-ment of in-tel-lect. Child-ren,
+be-ware!
+
+"4. A suf-fic-ien-cy of sleep and plain, whole-some fare are strong-ly
+re-com-mend-ed.
+
+ "Early to bed and early to rise
+ Makes little Freshie healthy and wise.
+
+"Avoid late hours and rich food, es-pec-ial-ly fudge.
+
+"5. That you may not be tempt-ed to trans-gress the pre-ceed-ing rule,
+it has been thought best to pro-hib-it the Freshman Din-ner, which in
+pre-vi-ous years has ruin-ed so many young lives. The hab-it of hold-ing
+these din-ners is a per-nic-ious one and must be stamp-ed out. To this
+end the CLASS OF 1904 will ex-ert its strong-est ef-forts, and you are
+here-by warn-ed that any at-tempt to re-vive this lam-ent-able cust-om
+will bring down up-on you severe chast-ise-ment.
+
+ "We must be cruel only to be kind;
+ Pause and reflect, who would be dined.
+
+"Heed and prof-it by these PRE-CEPTS, dear child-ren, that you may grow
+up to be great and noble men like those who sub-scribe them-selves,
+
+"Pa-ter-nal-ly yours,
+
+"THE CLASS OF 1904.
+
+"You are ad-ver-tis-ed by your lov-ing friends."
+
+This startling information, printed in sophomore red on big white
+placards, flamed from every available space in and about the campus the
+next morning. The nocturnal bill-posters had shown themselves no
+respecters of places, for the placards adorned not fences and walls
+alone, but were pasted on the granite steps of each recitation hall. All
+the forenoon groups of staid seniors, grinning juniors and sophomores,
+or vexed freshmen stood in front of the placards and read the
+inscriptions with varied emotions. But in the afternoon a cheering mob
+of the "infants" marched through the college and town and tore down or
+effaced every poster they could find. But they didn't get as far from
+the campus as the athletic field, and so it was not until Neil and Paul
+and one or two other freshmen reported for practise at four o'clock that
+it was discovered that the high board fence surrounding the field was a
+mass of the objectionable signs from end to end.
+
+"Oh, let them stay," said Neil. "I think they're rather funny myself.
+And as for their stopping the freshman dinner, why we'll wait and see.
+If they try it we'll have our chance to get back at them."
+
+"R-r-revenge!" muttered South, who, with a lacrosse stick over his
+shoulder and an attire consisting wholly of a pair of flapping white
+trunks, a faded green shirt, and a pair of canvas shoes, had come out to
+join the lacrosse candidates.
+
+"King suggested our getting some small posters printed in blue with just
+the figures ''05' on them, and pasting one on every soph's window," said
+Paul, "but Livingston wouldn't hear of it. I think it would be a good
+game, eh?"
+
+"Faculty'd kick up no end of a rumpus," said South.
+
+"I haven't heard that they are doing much about these things," answered
+Paul. "If the sophs can stick things around why can't we?"
+
+"You'd better ask the Dean," suggested Neil. "Hello, who's that chap?"
+
+They had entered the grounds and were standing on the steps of the
+locker-house. The person to whom Neil referred was just coming through
+the gate. He was a medium-sized man of about thirty years, with a
+good-looking, albeit very freckled face, and a good deal of sandy hair.
+The afternoon was quite warm, and he carried his straw hat in one very
+brown hand, while over his arm lay a sweater of Erskine purple, a pair
+of canvas trousers, and two worn shoes.
+
+"Blessed if I know who he is!" murmured South. They watched the newcomer
+as he traversed the path and reached the steps. As he passed them and
+entered the building he looked them over keenly with a pair of very
+sharp and very light blue eyes.
+
+"Wow!" muttered Paul. "He looked as though he was trying to decide
+whether I would taste better fried or baked."
+
+"I wonder--" began Neil. But at that moment Tom Cowan came up and Paul
+put the question to him.
+
+"The fellow that just came in?" repeated Cowan. "That, my boy, is a
+gentleman who will have you standing on your head in just about twenty
+minutes. Some eight or ten years ago he was popularly known hereabouts
+as 'Whitey' Mills. To-day, if you know your business, you'll address him
+as _Mister_ Mills."
+
+"Oh," said Neil, "he's the head coach, is he?"
+
+"He is, my young friend. And as he used to be one of the finest
+half-backs in the country, I guess you'll see something of him before
+you make the team. I dare say he can teach even you something about
+playing your position." Cowan grinned and passed on.
+
+"Oh, go to thunder!" muttered Neil, following him into the building.
+
+He found Mills being introduced by Devoe to such of the new candidates
+as were on hand.
+
+"You remember Cowan, I guess," Devoe was saying. "He played right-guard
+last year." Mills and Cowan shook hands. "And this is Fletcher, a new
+man," continued the captain, "and Gale, too; they're both Hillton
+fellows and played at half. It was Fletcher that made that fine run in
+the St. Eustace game. Gale was the captain last year."
+
+Mills shook hands with each, but beyond a short nod of his head and a
+brief "Glad to meet you," displayed no knowledge of their fame.
+
+"Grouchy chap," commented Paul when, the coach out of hearing, they were
+changing their clothes.
+
+"Well, he doesn't hurt himself talking," answered Neil. "But he looks
+as though he knew his business. His eyes are like little blue-steel
+gimlets."
+
+"Doesn't look much for strength, though," said Paul.
+
+But when, a few minutes later, Mills appeared on the gridiron in
+football togs, Paul was forced to alter his opinion. Chest, arms, and
+legs were a mass of muscle, and the head coach looked as though he could
+render a good account of himself against the stiffest line that could be
+put together.
+
+The practise began with ten minutes of falling on the ball. The
+candidates were lined out in two strings across the field, the old men
+in one, the new material in another. Neil and Paul were among the
+latter, and Mills held their ball. Standing at the right end of the
+line, he rolled the pigskin in front of and slightly away from the line,
+and one after another the men leaped forward and flung themselves upon
+it, missing it at first as often as not, and rolling about on the turf
+as though suddenly seized with fits. Neil rather prided himself on his
+ability to fall on the ball, and went at it like an old stager, or so he
+thought. But if he expected commendation he found none. When the last
+man had rolled around after the elusive pigskin, Mills went to the other
+end of the line and did it all over again.
+
+When it came Neil's turn he plunged out, found the ball nicely, and
+snuggled it against his breast. To his surprise when he arose Mills left
+his place and walked out to him.
+
+"Let's try that again," he said. Neil tossed him the ball and went back
+to his place. Mills nodded to him and rolled the pigskin toward him.
+Neil dropped on his hip, securing the ball under his right arm. Like a
+flash Mills was over him, and with a quick blow of his hand had sent the
+leather bobbing across the turf yards away.
+
+"When you get it, hold on to it," he said dryly. Neil arose with
+reddening cheeks and, amid the smiles of the others, went back to his
+place trying to decide whether, if he could have his way, the coach
+should perish by boiling oil or by merely being drawn and quartered. But
+after that it was a noticeable fact that the men clung to the ball when
+they got it as though it were a dearly loved friend.
+
+Later, passing down the line in front from end to end, the head coach
+threw the ball swiftly at the feet of one after another of the
+candidates, and each was obliged to drop where he stood and have the
+ball in his arms when he landed. When Mills came to Neil the latter was
+still nursing his resentment, and his cheeks still proclaimed that
+fact. After the boy had dropped on the ball and had tossed it back to
+the coach their eyes met. In the coach's was just the merest twinkle, a
+very ghost of a smile; but Neil saw it, and it said to him as plainly as
+words could have said, "I know just how you feel, my boy, but you'll get
+over it after a while."
+
+The coach passed on and the flush faded from Neil's cheeks; he even
+smiled a little. It was all right; Mills understood. It was almost as
+though they shared a secret between them. Alfred Mills, head football
+coach at Erskine College, had no more devoted admirer and partizan from
+that moment than Neil Fletcher, '05.
+
+Next the men were spread out until there was a little space between
+each, and the coach passed behind the line and shot the ball through,
+and they had an opportunity to see what they could do with a pigskin
+that sped away ahead of them. By careful management it is possible in
+falling on a football to bring almost every portion of the anatomy in
+violent contact with the ground, and this fact was forcibly brought home
+to Neil, Paul, and all the others by the time the work was at an end.
+
+"I've got bones I never knew the existence of before," mourned Neil.
+
+"Me too," growled Paul. "And half a dozen of my front teeth are aching
+from trying to bite holes in the ground; I think they're all loose. If
+they come out I'll send the dentist's bill to the management."
+
+A few minutes later Neil found himself at left half in one of the six
+squads of eleven men each that practised advancing the ball. They lined
+up in ordinary formation, and the ball was passed to one back after
+another for end runs. Mills went from squad to squad, criticizing
+briefly and succinctly.
+
+"Don't wait for the quarter to pass," he told Paul, who was playing
+beside Neil. "On your toes and run hard. Have confidence in your
+quarter. If the ball isn't ready for you it's not your fault. Try
+that again."
+
+And when Paul and Neil and the full-back had plowed round the left end
+once more--
+
+"Quarter, don't hold that ball as though your hand was frozen; keep your
+hand limber and see that you get the belly of the ball in it, not one
+end; then it won't tilt itself out. When you get the ball from center
+rise quickly, put your back against guard, and throw your weight there.
+And it's just as necessary for you to have confidence in the runner as
+it is for him to have faith in you. Don't fear that you'll be too quick
+for him; don't doubt but that he'll be there at the right instant. Keep
+that in mind and you'll soon have things going like clock-work. Now once
+more; ball to left half for a run around right end."
+
+When practise was over that day the new candidates were unanimous in the
+opinion that they had learned more that afternoon under Mills than they
+had learned during the whole previous week. Neil, Paul, and Cowan
+walked back to college together.
+
+"Yes, he's a great little coach," said Cowan, "and a nice chap when you
+get to know him; no frills on him, you know. And he's plumb full of
+pluck. They say that once when he played here at half-back he got the
+ball on Robinson's forty yards and walked down the field and over the
+line for a touch-down with half the Robinson team hanging on to his
+legs, and said afterward that he thought he _had_ felt some one tugging
+at him!" Neil laughed.
+
+"But he doesn't look so awfully strong," he objected.
+
+"Well, I guess he was in better trim then," answered Cowan. "Besides,
+he's built well, you see--most of his weight below his waist; when a
+chap's that way it's hard to pull him over. I remember last year in the
+game with Erstham I got through their tackle on a guard-back
+play, and--"
+
+But Neil had already heard that story of heroic deeds, and so lent a
+deaf ear to Cowan's boasting. When they reached Main Street a window
+full of the first issue of the college weekly, The Erskine Purple, met
+their sight, and they went in and bought copies. On the steps of the
+laboratory building they opened the inky-smelling journals and glanced
+through them.
+
+"Here's an account of last night's election," said Cowan. "That's quick
+work, isn't it? And you can read all about Livingston's brilliant
+career, Gale. By the way, have you met him yet?"
+
+Paul shook his head. "No, and I'm bearing up under it as well as can be
+expected."
+
+"You're not missing much," said Cowan. "Hello, here's the football
+schedule! Want to hear it?" Paul said he did, Neil muttered something
+unintelligible, and Cowan read as follows:
+
+ "E.C.F.B.A.
+
+ "SCHEDULE OF GAMES
+
+ "Oct. 12. Woodby at Centerport.
+ " 16. Dexter at Centerport.
+ " 23. Harvard at Cambridge.
+ " 26. Erstham at Centerport.
+ Nov. 2. State University at Centerport.
+ " 6. Arrowden at Centerport.
+ " 9. Yale at New Haven.
+ " 16. Artmouth at Centerport.
+ " 23. Robinson at Centerport."
+
+"By Jove!" said Cowan. "We've got seven home games this year! That's
+fine, isn't it? But I'll bet we'll find Woodby a tough proposition on
+the 12th. Last year we played her about the 1st of November, and she
+didn't do a thing to us. And look at the game they've got scheduled for
+a week before the Robinson game! That'll wear us out; Artmouth will put
+just about half of our men on the sick-list. And--Hello!" he said,
+dropping his voice; "talk of an angel!"
+
+A youth of apparently nineteen years was approaching them. He was of
+moderate height, rather slimly built, with dark eyes and hair, and
+clean-cut features. He swung a note-book in one hand, and was evidently
+in deep thought, for he failed to see the group on the steps, and would
+have passed without speaking had not Cowan called to him. Housed from
+his reverie, Fanwell Livingston glanced up, and, after nodding to Cowan
+and Neil, turned in at the gate.
+
+"I suppose you want congratulations," said Cowan. "Well, you can have
+mine."
+
+"And mine," added Neil. "And Gale here will extend his as soon as he's
+properly introduced. Mr. Gale--Mr. Livingston."
+
+"Victory--Defeat," added Cowan with a grin. The two candidates for the
+freshman presidency shook hands, Paul without enthusiasm,
+Livingston heartily.
+
+"Congratulations, of course," murmured the former.
+
+"Thank you," answered the president. "You're very generous. After all, I
+dare say you've got the best of it, for you'll have the satisfaction of
+knowing that if the fellows had chosen you you would have done much
+better than I shall. However, I hope we'll be friends, Mr. Gale."
+Livingston's smile was undeniably winning, and Paul was forced to
+return it.
+
+"You're very good," he answered quite affably. "I hope we will."
+Livingston nodded, smiled again, and turned to Cowan.
+
+"Well, they tell me you fellows are in for desperate deeds this year,"
+he said.
+
+"How's that?" asked Cowan.
+
+"Aren't you in on the sophomore councils? Why, I'm told that if the
+freshmen don't give up the dinner plan I'm to be kidnaped."
+
+"How'd you hear--" began Cowan. Then he paused with some confusion. "Who
+told you that rot?" he asked with a laugh.
+
+"Oh, it came in a roundabout way," answered Livingston. "I dare say it's
+just talk."
+
+"Some freshman nonsense," said Cowan. "I guess we'll do our best to keep
+you fellows from eating too much, but--" He shrugged his big shoulders.
+Livingston, observing him shrewdly, began for the first time since
+intelligence of the supposed project had reached him to give credence to
+it. But he laughed carelessly as he turned away.
+
+"Oh, well, we have to keep you fellows amused, of course, and if you
+like to try kidnaping you may."
+
+"I wish the sophs would try it," said Neil warmly. Cowan turned to him.
+
+"Well, if they did--_if_ they did--I guess they'd succeed," he drawled.
+
+"Well, if they do--_if_ they do," answered Neil, "I'll bet they won't
+succeed."
+
+"You'd stop us, perhaps?" sneered Cowan.
+
+"Easily," answered Neil, smiling sweetly; "there are only a hundred or
+so of you."
+
+"There's no one like a week-old freshman for self-importance," Cowan
+said, laughing in order to hide his vexation.
+
+"Unless it's a third-year sophomore," Neil retorted.
+
+"Oh, well," Paul interposed, "it's all poppycock, anyhow."
+
+"That's all," said Livingston.
+
+"Of course," agreed Cowan.
+
+Neil was silent.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+THE GENTLE ART OF HANDLING PUNTS
+
+Life now was filled with hard work for both Neil and Paul. Much of the
+novelty that had at first invested study with an exhilarating interest
+had worn off, and they had settled down to the daily routine of lectures
+and recitations just as though they had been Erskine undergrads for
+years instead of a week. The study and the adjoining bed-room were at
+last furnished to suit; The First Snow was hung, the "rug for the
+wash-stand" was in place, and the objectionable towel-rack had given way
+to a smaller but less erratic affair.
+
+Every afternoon saw the two boys on Erskine Field. Mills was a hard
+taskmaster, but one that inspired the utmost confidence, and as a result
+of some ten days' teaching the half hundred candidates who had survived
+the first weeding-out process were well along in the art of football.
+The new men were coached daily in the rudiments; were taught to punt and
+catch, to fall on the ball, to pass without fumbling, to start quickly,
+and to run hard. Exercise in the gymnasium still went on, but the
+original twenty-minute period had gradually diminished to ten. Neil and
+Paul, with certain other candidates for the back-field, were daily
+instructed in catching punts and forming interference. Every afternoon
+the practise was watched by a throng of students who were quick to
+applaud good work, and whose presence was a constant incentive to the
+players. There was a strong sentiment throughout the college in favor of
+leaving nothing undone that might secure a victory over Robinson. The
+defeat of the previous year rankled, and Erskine was grimly determined
+to square accounts with her lifelong rival. As one important means to
+this end the college was searched through and through for heavy
+material, for Robinson always turned out teams that, whatever might be
+their playing power, were beef and brawn from left end to right. And so
+at Erskine men who didn't know a football from a goal-post were hauled
+from studious retirement simply because they had weight and promised
+strength, and were duly tried and, usually, found wanting. One lucky
+find, however, rewarded the search, a two-hundred-pound sophomore named
+Browning, who, handicapped at the start with a colossal ignorance
+regarding all things pertaining to the gridiron, learned with wonderful
+rapidity, and gave every promise of turning himself into a phenomenal
+guard or tackle.
+
+On the 5th of October a varsity and a second squad were formed, and Neil
+and Paul found themselves at left and right half respectively on the
+latter. Cowan was back at right-guard on the varsity, a position which
+he had played satisfactorily the year before. Neil had already made the
+discovery that he had, despite his Hillton experience, not a little to
+learn, and he set about learning it eagerly. Paul made the same
+discovery, but, unfortunately for himself, the discovery wounded his
+pride, and he accepted the criticisms of coach and captain with rather
+ill grace.
+
+"That dub Devoe makes me very weary," he confided to Neil one afternoon.
+"He thinks he knows it all and no one else has any sense."
+
+"He doesn't strike me that way," answered his chum. "And I think he does
+know a good deal of football."
+
+"You always stick up for him," growled Paul. "And for Mills,
+too--white-haired, freckle-faced chump!"
+
+"Don't be an idiot," said Neil. "One's captain and t'other is coach, and
+they're going to rub it into us whenever they please, and the best thing
+for us to do is to take it and look cheerful."
+
+"That's it; we _have_ to take it," Paul objected. "They can put us on
+the bench if they want to and keep us there all the season; I know that.
+But, just the same, I don't intend to lick Devoe's boots or rub my head
+in the dirt whenever Mills looks at me."
+
+"Well, it looks to me as though you'd been rubbing your head in the dirt
+already," laughed Neil.
+
+"Connor stepped on me there," muttered Paul, wiping a clump of mud from
+his forehead. "Come on; Mills is yelling for us. More catching punts,
+I suppose."
+
+And his supposition was correct. Across the width of the sunlit field
+Graham, the two-hundred-and-thirty-pound center rush, stooped over the
+pigskin. Beside him were two pairs of end rushes, and behind him, with
+outstretched hands, stood Ted Foster. Foster gave a signal, the ball
+went back to him on a long pass, and he sent it over the gridiron toward
+where Neil, Paul, and two other backs were waiting. The ends came down
+under the kick, the ball thumped into Paul's hands, Neil and another
+formed speedy interference, and the three were well off before the ends,
+like miniature cyclones, were upon them and had dragged Paul to earth.
+
+The head coach, a short but sturdy figure in worn-out trousers and faded
+purple shirt, stood on the edge of the cinder track and viewed the work
+with critical eye. When the ends had trotted back over the field with
+the ball to repeat the proceeding, he made himself heard:
+
+"Spread out more, fellows, and don't all stand in a line across the
+field. You've got to learn now to judge kicks; you can't expect to
+always find yourself just under them. Fletcher, as soon as you've
+decided who is to take the ball yell out. Then play to the runner; every
+other man form into interference and get him up the field. Now then!
+Play quick!"
+
+The ball was in flight again, and once more the ends were speeding
+across under it. "Mine!" cried Neil. Then the leather was against his
+breast and he was dodging forward, Paul ahead of him to bowl over
+opposing players, and Pearse, a full-back candidate, plunging along
+beside. One--two--three of the ends were passed, and the ball had been
+run back ten yards. Then Stone, last year's varsity left end, fooled
+Paul, and getting inside him, nailed Neil by the hips.
+
+"Well tackled, Stone," called Mills. "Gale, you were asleep, man; Stone
+ought never to have got through there. Fletcher, you're going to lose
+the ball some time when you need it badly if you don't catch better than
+that. Never reach up for it; remember that your opponent can't tackle
+you until you've touched it; wait until it hits against your stomach,
+and then grip it hard. If you take it in the air it's an easy stunt for
+an opponent to knock it out of your hands; but if you've got it hugged
+against your body it won't matter how hard you're thrown, the ball's
+yours for keeps. Bear that in mind."
+
+On the next kick Neil called to Gale to take the pigskin. Paul misjudged
+it, and was forced to turn and run back. He missed the catch, a
+difficult one under the circumstances, and also missed the rebound. By
+this time the opposing ends were down on him. The ball trickled across
+the running track, and Paul stooped to pick it up. But Stone was ahead
+of him, and seizing the pigskin, was off for what would have been a
+touch-down had it been in a game.
+
+"What's the matter, Gale?" cried Mills angrily. "Why didn't you fall on
+that ball?"
+
+"It was on the cinders," answered Paul, in evident surprise. Mills made
+a motion of disgust, of tragic impatience.
+
+"I don't care," he cried, "if it was on broken glass! You've got orders
+to fall on the ball. Now bring it over here, put it down
+and--_fall_--_on_--_it_!"
+
+Neil watched his chum apprehensively. Knowing well Paul's impatience
+under discipline, he feared that the latter would give way to anger and
+mutiny on the spot. But Paul did as directed, though with bad grace, and
+contented himself with muttered words as he threw the pigskin to a
+waiting end and went back to his place.
+
+Soon afterward they were called away for a ten-minute line-up. Paul,
+still smarting under what in his own mind he termed a cruel indignity,
+played poorly, and ere the ten minutes was half up was relegated to the
+benches, his place at right half being taken by Kirk. The second managed
+to hold the varsity down to one score that day, and might have taken the
+ball over itself had not Pearse fumbled on the varsity's three yards. As
+it was, they were given a hearty cheer by the watchers when time was
+called, and they trotted to the bucket to be sponged off. Then those who
+had not already been in the line-up were given the gridiron, and the
+varsity and second were sent for a trot four times around the field, the
+watchful eye of "Baldy" Simson, Erskine's veteran trainer, keeping them
+under surveillance until they had completed their task and had trailed
+out the gate toward the locker-house, baths, and rub-downs.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+THE KIDNAPING
+
+Fanwell Livingston was curled in the window-seat in his front room, his
+book close to the bleared pane, striving to find light enough by which
+to study. Outside it was raining in a weary, desultory way, and the
+heavens were leaden-hued. Livingston's quarters were on the front of
+that big lemon-yellow house at the corner of Oak and King Streets, about
+equidistant from campus and field. The outlook to-day was far from
+inspiriting. When he raised his eyes from the pages before him he saw an
+empty road running with water; beyond that a bare, weed-grown, sodden
+field that stretched westward to the unattractive backs of the one-and
+two-storied shops on Main Street. Livingston's room wasn't in any sense
+central, but he liked it because it was quiet, because aside from the
+family he had the house to himself, and because Mrs. Saunders, his
+landlady, was goodness itself and administered to his comfort almost as
+his own mother would have done.
+
+The freshman president laid aside his book, grimaced at the dreary
+prospect, and took out his watch. "Ten minutes after five," he murmured.
+"Heavens, what a beastly dark day! I'll have to start to get dressed
+before long. Too bad we've got such weather for the affair." He glanced
+irresolutely toward the gas-fixture, and from thence to where his
+evening clothes lay spread out on the couch. For it was the evening of
+the Freshman Class Dinner. While he was striving to find energy
+wherewith to tear himself from the soft cushions and make a light,
+footsteps sounded outside his door, and some one demanded admission.
+
+"Come in!" he called.
+
+The door swung open, was closed swiftly and softly again, and Neil
+Fletcher crossed the room. He looked rather like a tramp; his hat was a
+misshapen thing of felt from which the water dripped steadily as he
+tossed it aside; his sweater--he wore no coat--was soaking wet; and his
+trousers and much-darned golf stockings were in scarcely better
+condition. His hair looked as though he had just taken his head from a
+water-bucket, and his face bespoke excitement.
+
+"They're coming after you, Livingston," he cried in an intense whisper.
+"I heard Cowan telling Carey in the locker-room a minute ago; they
+didn't know I was there; it was dark as dark. They've got a carriage,
+and there are going to be nearly a dozen of them. I ran all the way as
+soon as I got on to Oak Street. There wasn't time to get any of the
+fellows together, so I just sneaked right over here. You can get out now
+and go--somewhere--to our room or the library. They won't look for you
+there, eh? There's a fellow at the corner watching, but I don't think he
+saw me, and I can settle with him; or maybe you could get out the back
+way and double round by the railroad? You can't stay here, because
+they're coming right away; Cowan said--"
+
+"For heaven's sake, Fletcher, what do you mean?" asked Livingston. "You
+don't want me to believe that they're really going to run off with me?"
+
+Neil, gasping for breath, subsided on to the window-seat and nodded his
+head vigorously. "That's just what I do mean. There's no doubt about it,
+my friend. Didn't I tell you I heard Cowan--"
+
+"Oh, Cowan!"
+
+"I know, but it was all in earnest. Carey and he are on their way to
+Pike's stable for the carriage, and the others are to meet there.
+They've had fellows watching you all day. There's one at the corner
+now--a tall, long-nosed chap that I've seen in class. So get your things
+and get out as soon as you can move."
+
+Livingston, with his hands in his pockets, stared thoughtfully out of
+the window, Neil watching him impatiently and listening apprehensively
+for the sound of carriage wheels down the street.
+
+"It doesn't seem to me that they could be idiots enough to attempt such
+a silly trick," said Livingston at last. "You--you're quite sure you
+weren't mistaken--that they weren't stringing you?"
+
+"They didn't know I was there!" cried Neil in exasperation. "I went in
+late--Mills had us blocking kicks--and was changing my things over in a
+dark corner when they hurried in and went over into the next alley and
+began to talk. At first they were whispering, but after a bit they
+talked loud enough for me to hear every word."
+
+"Well, anyhow--and I'm awfully much obliged, Fletcher--I don't intend to
+run from a few sophs. I'll lock the front door and this one and let
+them hammer."
+
+"But--"
+
+"Nonsense; when they find they can't get in they'll get tired and go
+away."
+
+"And you'll go out and get nabbed at the corner! That's a clever
+program, I don't think!" cried Neil in intense scorn. "Now you listen to
+me, Livingston. What you want to do is to put your glad rags in a bag
+and--What's that?"
+
+He leaped to his feet and peered out of the window. Just within his
+range of vision a carriage, drawn by two dripping, sorry-looking nags,
+drew up under the slight shelter of an elm-tree about fifty yards away
+from the house. From it emerged eight fellows in rain-coats, while the
+tall, long-nosed watcher whom Neil had seen at the corner joined them
+and made his report. The group looked toward Livingston's window and
+Neil dodged back.
+
+"It's too late now," he whispered. "There they are."
+
+"Look a bit damp, don't they," laughed Livingston softly as he peered
+out over the other's shoulder. "I'll go down and lock the door."
+
+"No, stay here," said Neil. "I'll look after that; they might get you. I
+wish it wasn't so dark! How about the back way? Can't you get out there
+and sneak around by the field?"
+
+"I told you I wasn't going to run away from them," replied his host,
+"and I haven't changed my mind."
+
+"You're an obstinate ass!" answered Neil. He scowled at the calm and
+smiling countenance of the freshman president a moment, and then turned
+quickly and pulled the shades at the windows. "I've got it!" he cried.
+"Look here, will you do as I tell you? If you do I promise you we'll
+fool them finely."
+
+"I'm not going out of this room," objected Livingston.
+
+"Yes, you are--into the next one. And you're going to lock the door
+behind you; and I'm going to look after our sophomore callers. Now go
+ahead. Do as I tell you, or I'll go off and leave you to be eaten
+alive!" Neil, grinning delightedly, thrust the unwilling Livingston
+before him. "Now lock the door and keep quiet. No matter what you hear,
+keep quiet and stay in there."
+
+"But--"
+
+"You be hanged!" Neil pulled to the bed-room door, and listened until he
+heard the key turn on the other side. Then he stole to the window and,
+lifting a corner of the shade, peeped out. The group of sophomores were
+no longer in sight, but at that moment he heard the front door close
+softly. There was no time to lose. He found a match and hurriedly
+lighted one burner over the study table. Then, turning it down to a mere
+blue point of light, he flung himself back among the cushions on the
+window-seat, and with a heart that hammered violently at his
+ribs waited.
+
+Almost in the next moment there were sounds of shuffling feet outside
+the study door, a low voice, and then a knock. Neil took a long breath.
+
+"Come in," he called drowsily.
+
+The door opened. Neil arose and walked to the gas-fixture, knocking over
+a chair on his way.
+
+"Come in, whoever you are," he muttered. "Guess I was almost asleep." He
+reached up a hand and turned out the gas. The room, almost dark before,
+was now blackness from wall to wall. "Pshaw," said Neil, "I've turned
+the pesky thing out! Just stand still until I find a match or you'll
+break your shins." He groped his way toward the mantel. Now was the
+sophomores' opportunity, and they seized it. Neil had done his best to
+imitate Livingston's careful and rather precise manner of speaking, and
+the invaders, few of whom even knew the president of the freshman
+class by sight, never for an instant doubted that they had captured him.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Neil found himself suddenly seized by strong arms. With a cry of
+simulated surprise, he struggled feebly.
+
+"Here, what's up, fellows?" he remonstrated. "Look out, I tell you!
+_Don't do that_!"
+
+Then he was borne, protesting and kicking, feet foremost, through the
+door, out into the hall and down the stairs. When the front door was
+thrown open Neil was alarmed to find that although almost dark it was
+still light enough for his captors to discover their mistake. Hiding his
+face as best he could, he lifted his voice in loud cries for help. It
+worked like a charm. Instantly a carriage robe was thrown over his head
+and he was hurried down the steps, across the muddy sidewalk, and into
+the waiting vehicle which had been driven up before the house. Once
+inside, Neil was safe from detection, for the hack, the shades drawn up
+before the windows, was as dark as Egypt. Neil sighed his relief,
+muttered a few perfunctory threats from behind the uncomfortable folds
+of the ill-smelling robe, and, with one fellow sitting on his chest and
+three others holding his legs, felt the carriage start.
+
+Despite the enveloping folds about his head he could hear quite well;
+hear the horses' feet go _squish-squash_ in the mud; hear the carriage
+creak on its aged hinges; hear the shriek of a distant locomotive as
+they approached the railroad. His captors were congratulating
+themselves on the success of their venture.
+
+"Easier than I thought it'd be," said one, and at the reply Neil
+figuratively pricked up his ears.
+
+"Pshaw, I knew we'd have no trouble; Livingston was so cock-sure that we
+wouldn't try it that he'd probably forgotten all about it. I guess that
+conceited little fool Fletcher will talk out of the other side of his
+mouth for a while now. What do you think? He had the nerve to tell me
+last week that he guessed _he_ could prevent a kidnaping, as there were
+only about a hundred of us sophs!"
+
+The others laughed.
+
+"Well, he is a chesty young kid, isn't he?" asked a third speaker. "I
+guess it's just as well we didn't have to kidnap _him_, eh? By the way,
+our friend here seems ill at ease. Maybe we'd better get off of him now
+and give him a breath of air. We don't want a corpse on our hands."
+
+The sophomores found seats and the robe was unwound from about Neil's
+head, much to that youth's delight. He took a good long breath and,
+grinning enjoyably in the darkness, settled himself to make the best of
+his predicament. Now that he had discovered Tom Cowan to be one of his
+abductors, he was filled with such glee that he found it hard work to
+keep silent. But he did, and all the gibes of his captors, uttered in
+quite the most polite language imaginable, failed to elicit a reply.
+
+"Beautiful evening for a drive, is it not?" asked one.
+
+"I trust you had not planned to attend the freshman dinner to-night?"
+asked another. "For I fear we shall be late in reaching home."
+
+"You are quite comfortable? Is there any particular road you would like
+to drive? any part of our lovely suburbs you care to visit?"
+
+"Surly brute!" growled a fourth, who was Cowan. "Let's make him speak,
+eh? Let's twist his arm a bit."
+
+"You sit still or I'll punch your thick head," said the first speaker
+coldly. "What I dislike about you, Cowan, is that you are never able to
+forget that you're a mucker. I wish you'd try," he continued wearily,
+"it's so monotonous."
+
+Cowan was silent an instant; then laughed uncertainly.
+
+"I suppose you fancy you're a wit, Baker," he said, "but I think you're
+mighty tiresome."
+
+"Don't let it trouble you," was the calm reply. Some one laughed
+drowsily. Then there was silence save for the sound of the horses' feet,
+the complaining of the well-worn hack and the occasional voice of the
+driver outside on the box. Neil began to feel rather drowsy himself; the
+motion was lulling, and now that they had crossed the railroad-track and
+reached the turnpike along the river, the carriage traveled smoothly. It
+was black night outside now, and through the nearest window at which the
+curtain had been lowered Neil could see nothing save an occasional
+light in some house. He didn't know where he was being taken, and didn't
+much care. They rolled steadily on for half an hour longer, during which
+time two at least of his captors proclaimed their contentment by loud
+snoring. Then the carriage slowed down, the sleeping ones were awakened,
+and a moment later a flood of light entering the window told Neil that
+the journey was at an end.
+
+"Far as we go," said some one. "All out here and take the car ahead!" A
+door was opened, two of his captors got out, and Neil was politely
+invited to follow. He did so. Before him was the open door of a
+farm-house from which the light streamed hospitably. It was still
+drizzling, and Neil took shelter on the porch unchallenged; now that the
+abductors had got him some five miles from Centerport, they were not so
+attentive. The others came up the steps and the carriage was led away
+toward the barn.
+
+"If your Excellency will have the kindness to enter the house," said
+Baker, with low obeisance, "he will find accommodations which, while far
+from befitting your Excellency's dignity, are, unfortunately, the best
+at our command."
+
+Neil accepted the invitation silently, and entering the doorway, found
+himself in a well-lighted room wherein a table was set for supper. The
+others followed, Cowan grinning from ear to ear in anticipation of the
+victim's discomfiture. In his eagerness he was the first to catch sight
+of Neil's face. With a howl of surprise he sprang back, almost
+upsetting Baker.
+
+"What's the matter with you?" cried the latter. Cowan made no answer,
+but stared stupidly at Neil.
+
+"Eh? What?" Baker sprang forward and wheeled their victim into the
+light. Neil turned and faced them smilingly. The four stared in
+bewilderment. It was Baker who first found words.
+
+"_Well, I'll--be--hanged_!" he murmured.
+
+Neil turned placidly to the discomfited Cowan.
+
+"You see, Cowan," he said sweetly, "one against a hundred isn't such big
+odds, after all, is it?"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+THE BROKEN TRICYCLE
+
+As soon as Livingston heard the kidnapers staggering down-stairs with
+their burden he unlocked the bed-room door and stole to the window. He
+saw Neil, his head hidden by the carriage robe, thrust into the hack and
+driven away, and saw the conspirators for whom the vehicle afforded no
+room separate and disappear in the gathering darkness. Livingston's
+emotions were varied: admiration for Neil's harebrained but successful
+ruse, distaste for the sorry part taken by himself in the affair, and
+amusement over the coming amazement and discomfiture of the enemy were
+mingled. In the end delight in the frustration of the sophomores' plan
+gained the ascendency, and he resolved that although Neil would miss the
+freshman dinner he should have it made up to him.
+
+And so in his speech an hour or so later Fanwell Livingston told the
+astonished company of the attempted kidnaping and of its failure, and
+never before had Odd Fellows' Hall rang with such laughter and cheering.
+And a little knot of sophomores, already bewildered by the appearance
+of the freshman president on the scene, were more than ever at a loss.
+They stood under an awning across the street, some twenty or thirty of
+them, and asked each other what it meant. Content with the supposed
+success of the abduction, they had made no attempt to prevent the
+dinner. And now Livingston, who by every law of nature should be five
+miles out in the country, was presiding at the feast and moving his
+audience to the wildest applause.
+
+"But I helped put him in the hack!" Carey cried over and over.
+
+"And I saw it drive off with him!" marveled another.
+
+"And if that's Livingston, where's Baker, and Morton, and Cowan, and
+Dyer?" asked the rest. And all shook their heads and gazed bewildered
+through the rain to where a raised window-shade gave them occasional
+glimpses of "Fan" Livingston, a fine figure in dinner jacket and white
+shirt bosom, leading the cheering.
+
+"_Rah-rah-rah, Rah-rah-rah, Rah-rah-rah, Fletcher_!"
+
+The group under the awning turned puzzled looks upon each other.
+
+"Who's Fletcher? What are they cheering Fletcher for?" was asked. But
+none could answer.
+
+But over in the hall it was different. Not a lad there, perhaps, but
+would have been glad to have exchanged places with the gallant
+confounder of sophomore plots, who was pictured in most minds as
+starving to death somewhere out in the rain, a captive in the ungentle
+hands of the enemy.
+
+However, starving Neil certainly was not. For at that very moment,
+seated at the hospitable board of Farmer Hutchins, he was helping
+himself to his fifth hot biscuit, and allowing Miss Hutchins, a
+red-cheeked and admiring young lady of fourteen years, to fill his
+teacup for the second time. From the role of prisoner Neil had advanced
+himself to the position of honored guest. For after the first
+consternation, bewilderment, and mortification had passed, his captors
+philosophically accepted the situation, and under the benign influence
+of cold chicken and hot soda biscuits found themselves not only able to
+display equanimity, but to join in the laugh against themselves and to
+admire the cleverness displayed in their out-witting. Of the four
+sophomores Cowan's laughter and praise alone rang false. But Neil was
+supremely indifferent to that youth's sentiments. The others he soon
+discovered to be thoroughly good fellows, and there is no doubt but that
+he enjoyed the hospitality of Farmer Hutchins more than he would have
+enjoyed the freshman class dinner.
+
+At nine o'clock the drive back to Centerport began, and as the horses
+soon found that they were headed toward home the journey occupied
+surprisingly little time, and at ten Neil was back in his room awaiting
+the return of Paul. To Neil's surprise that gentleman was at first
+decidedly grumpy.
+
+"You might have let me into it," he grumbled.
+
+But Neil explained and apologized until at length peace was restored.
+Then he had to tell Paul all about it from first to last, and Paul
+laughed until he choked; "I--I just wish--wish I had--seen Cowan's--face
+when--he--found it--out!" he shrieked.
+
+One result of that night's adventure was that the Class of 1905 was
+never thereafter bothered in the slightest degree by the sophomores; it
+appeared to be the generally accepted verdict that the freshmen had
+established their right to immunity from all molestation. Another result
+was that Neil became a class hero and a college notable. Younger
+freshmen pointed him out to each other in admiring awe; older and more
+influential ones went out of their way to claim recognition from him;
+sophomores viewed him with more than passing interest, and upper-class
+men predicted for him a brilliant college career. Even the Dean, when he
+passed Neil the following afternoon and returned his bow, allowing
+himself something almost approaching a grin. Neil, however, bore his
+honors modestly even while acknowledging to himself the benefit of them.
+He learned that his chances of making a certain society, membership in
+which was one of his highest ambitions, had been more than doubled, and
+was glad accordingly. (He was duly elected and underwent rigorous
+initiation proudly and joyfully.)
+
+The kidnaping affair even affected his football standing, for Mills and
+Devoe and Simson, the trainer, spoke or looked applause, while the head
+coach thereafter displayed quite a personal interest in him. Several
+days subsequent to the affair Neil was taking dummy practise with the
+rest of the second eleven. Mills had appropriated the invention of a
+Harvard trainer, rigging the dummy with hook and eye-bolt, so that when
+properly tackled the stuffed canvas effigy of a Robinson player became
+detached from its cable and fell on to the soft loam much after the
+manner of a human being. But to bring the dummy from the hook
+necessitated the fiercest of tackling, and many fellows failed at this.
+To-day Neil was one of this number. Twice the dummy, bearing upon its
+breast the brown R of Robinson, had sped away on its twenty-foot flight,
+and twice Neil had thrown himself upon it without bringing it down. As
+he arose after the second attempt and brushed the soil from his trousers
+Mills "went for him."
+
+"You're very ladylike, Fletcher, but as this isn't crewel-work or
+crochet you'll oblige me by being so rude as to bring that dummy off.
+Now, once more; put some snap into it! Get your hold, find your
+purchase, and then throw! Just imagine it's a sophomore, please."
+
+The roar of laughter that followed restored some of Neil's confidence,
+and, whether he deceived himself into momentarily thinking the dummy a
+sophomore, he tackled finely, brought the canvas figure from the hook,
+and triumphantly sat on the letter R.
+
+Signal practise followed work at the dummy that afternoon, and last of
+all the varsity and second teams had their daily line-up. Neil, however,
+did not get into this. Greatly to his surprise and disappointment
+McCullough took his place at left half, and Neil sat on the bench and
+aggrievedly watched the lucky ones peeling off their sweaters in
+preparation for the fray. But idleness was not to be his portion, for a
+moment later Mills called to him:
+
+"Here, take this ball, go down there to the fifteen-yard line, and try
+drop-kicking. Keep a strict count, and let me know how many tries you
+had and how many times you put it over the goal."
+
+Neil took the ball and trotted off to the scene of his labors, greatly
+comforted. Kicking goals from the fifteen-yard line didn't sound very
+difficult, and he set to work resolved to distinguish himself. But
+drop-kicks were not among Neil's accomplishments, and he soon found that
+the cross-bar had a way of being in the wrong place at the critical
+moment. At first it was hard to keep from turning his head to watch the
+progress of the game, but presently he became absorbed in his work. As a
+punter he had been somewhat of a success at Hillton, but drop-kicking
+had been left to the full-back, and consequently it was unaccustomed
+work. The first five tries went low, and the next four went high enough
+but wide of the goal. The next one barely cleared the cross-bar, and
+Neil was hugely tickled. The count was then ten tries and one goal. He
+got out of the way in order to keep from being ground to pieces by the
+struggling teams, and while he stood by and watched the varsity make its
+first touch-down, ruminated sadly upon the report he would have to
+render to Mills.
+
+But a long acquaintance with footballs had thoroughly dispelled Neil's
+awe of them, and he returned to his labor determined to better his
+score. And he did, for when the teams trotted by him on their way off
+the field and Mills came up, he was able to report 38 tries, of which 12
+were goals.
+
+"Not bad," said the coach. "That'll do for to-day. But whenever you find
+a football, and don't know what to do with it, try drop-kicking. Your
+punting is very good, and there's no reason why you shouldn't learn to
+kick from drop or placement as well. Take my advice and put your heart
+and brain and muscle into it, for, while we've got backs that can buck
+and hurdle and run, we haven't many that can be depended on to kick a
+goal, and we'll need them before long."
+
+Neil trotted out to the locker-house with throbbing heart. Mills had as
+good as promised him his place. That is, if he could learn to kick
+goals. The condition didn't trouble Neil, however; he _could_ learn to
+drop-kick and he _would_ learn, he told himself exultantly as he panted
+under the effects of a cold shower-bath. For a moment the wild idea of
+rising at unchristian hours and practising before chapel occurred to
+him, but upon maturer thought was given up. No, the only thing to do was
+to follow Mills's advice: "Put your heart and brain and muscle into it,"
+the coach had said. Neil nodded vigorously and rubbed himself so hard
+with the towel as to almost take the skin off. He was late in leaving
+the house that evening, and as all the fellows he knew personally had
+already taken their departure, he started back toward the campus alone.
+Near the corner of King Street he glanced up and saw something a short
+distance ahead that puzzled him. It looked at first like a cluster of
+bicycles with a single rider. But as the rider was motionless Neil soon
+came up to him.
+
+On nearer view he saw that the object was in reality a tricycle, and
+that it held beside the rider a pair of crutches which lay in supports
+lengthwise along one side. The machine was made to work with the hands
+instead of the feet, and a bow-shaped piece of steel which fitted around
+the operator's knee served as steering apparatus. The youth who sat
+motionless on the seat was a rather pale-faced, frail-looking lad of
+eighteen years, and it needed no second glance to tell Neil that he was
+crippled from his waist down. As Neil approached he was pulling the
+handles to and fro and looking perplexedly at the gear. The tricycle
+refused to budge.
+
+"I guess you've broken down," said Neil, approaching. "Stay where you
+are and I'll have a look."
+
+"Thanks, but you needn't bother," said the lad.
+
+But Neil was already on his knees. The trouble was soon found; the chain
+had broken and for the present was beyond repair.
+
+"But the wheels will go round, just the same," said Neil cheerfully.
+"Keep your seat and I'll push you back. Where do you room?"
+
+"Walton," was the answer. "But I don't like to bother you, Mr. Fletcher.
+You see I have my crutches here, and I can get around very well
+on them."
+
+"Nonsense, there's no use in your walking all the way to Walton. Here,
+I'll take the chain off and play horse. By the way, how'd you know
+my name?"
+
+"Oh, every one knows you since that kidnaping business," laughed the
+other, beginning to forget some of his shyness. "And besides I've heard
+the coach speak to you at practise."
+
+"Oh," said Neil, who was now walking behind the tricycle and pushing it
+before him, "then you've been out to the field, eh?"
+
+"Yes, I like to watch practise. I go out very nearly every day."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"Come to think of it, I believe I've seen you there," said Neil. "It's
+wonderful how you can get around on this machine as you do. Isn't it
+hard work at times?"
+
+"Rather, on grades, you know. But on smooth roads it goes very easily;
+besides, I've worked it every day almost for so long that I've got a
+pretty good muscle now. My father had this one made for me only two
+months ago to use here at Erskine. The last machine I had was very much
+heavier and harder to manage."
+
+"I guess being so light has made it weak," said Neil, "or it wouldn't
+have broken down like this."
+
+"Oh, I fancy that was more my fault than the tricycle's," answered the
+boy. As Neil was behind him he did not see the smile that accompanied
+the words.
+
+"Well, I'll take you home and then wheel the thing down to the bicycle
+repair-shop near the depot, eh?"
+
+"Oh, no, indeed," protested the other. "I'll--I'll have them send up for
+it. I wouldn't have you go way down there with it for anything."
+
+"Pshaw! that's no walk; besides, if you have them send, it will be some
+time to-morrow afternoon before you get it back."
+
+"I sha'n't really need it before then," answered the lad earnestly.
+
+"You might," said Neil. There was such a tone of finality in the reply
+that the boy on the seat yielded, but for an instant drew his face into
+a pucker of perplexity.
+
+"Thank you," he said; "it's awfully nice of you to take so much
+trouble."
+
+"I can't see that," Neil replied. "I don't see how I could do any less.
+By the way, what's your name, if you don't mind?"
+
+"Sydney Burr."
+
+"Burr? That's why you were stuck there up the road," laughed Neil.
+"We're in the same class, aren't we?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+At the middle entrance of Walton Hall Neil helped Burr on to his
+crutches, and would have assisted him up the steps had he not objected.
+
+"Please don't," he said, flushing slightly. "I can get up all right; I
+do it every day. My room's on this floor, too. I'm awfully much obliged
+to you for what you've done. I wish you'd come and see me some time--No.
+3. Do you--do you think you could?"
+
+"Of course," Neil answered heartily, "I'll be glad to. Three, you said?
+All right. I'll take this nag down to the blacksmith's now and get him
+reshod. If they can fix him right off I'll bring him back with me. Where
+do you stable him?"
+
+"The janitor takes it down-stairs somewhere. If I'm not here just give
+it to him, please. I wish, though, you wouldn't bother about bringing
+it back."
+
+"I'll ride him back," laughed Neil. "Good-night."
+
+"Good-night. Don't forget you're coming to see me."
+
+Sydney Burr smiled and, turning, climbed the steps with astonishing
+ease, using his crutches with a dexterity born of many years' dependence
+upon them. His lower limbs, slender and frail, swung from side to side,
+mere useless appendages. Neil sighed as he saw his new acquaintance out
+of sight, and then started on his errand with the tricycle.
+
+"Poor duffer!" he muttered. "And yet he seems cheerful enough, and looks
+happy. But to think of having to creep round on stilts or pull himself
+about on this contrivance! I mustn't forget to call on him; I dare say
+he hasn't many friends. He seems a nice chap, too; and he'd be
+frightfully good-looking if he wasn't so white."
+
+It was almost dark when he reached the repair-shop near the railroad,
+and the proprietor, a wizened little bald-headed man, was preparing
+to go home.
+
+"Can't fix anything to-night," he protested shrilly. "It's too late;
+come in the morning."
+
+"Well, if you think I'm going to wheel this thing back here to-morrow
+you've missed your guess," said Neil. "All it needs is to have a chain
+link welded or glued or something; it won't take five minutes. And the
+fellow that owns it is a cripple and can't go out until this machine's
+fixed. Now go ahead, like a good chap; I'll hold your bonnet."
+
+"Eh? What bonnet?" The little man stared perplexedly.
+
+"I meant I'd help," answered Neil unabashed.
+
+"Help! Huh! Lot's of help, you'd be to any one! Well, let's see it." He
+knelt and inspected the tricycle, grumbling all the while and shaking
+his head angrily. "Who said it was broke?" he demanded presently. "Queer
+kind of break; looks like you'd pried the link apart with a
+cold-chisel."
+
+"Well, I didn't; nor with a hot chisel. Besides, I've just told you it
+didn't belong to me. Do I look like a cripple?"
+
+"More like a fool," answered the other with a chuckle.
+
+"You're a naughty old man," said Neil sorrowfully, "and if you were my
+father I'd spank you." The other was too angry to find words, and
+contented himself with bending back the damaged link and emitting a
+series of choking sounds which Neil rightly judged to be expressions of
+displeasure. When the repair was finished he pushed the machine angrily
+toward the boy.
+
+"Take it and get out," he said.
+
+"Thanks. How much?"
+
+"Fifty cents," was the reply, given with a toothless grin and a chuckle.
+"Twenty-five cents for the job and twenty-five cents for working
+after hours."
+
+"Cheap enough," answered Neil, laying a quarter on the bench. "That's
+for the job; I'll owe you the rest."
+
+When he reached the first corner the proprietor of the repair-shop was
+still calling him names and shaking his fist in the air.
+
+"Looked just like a he-witch or something," chuckled Neil, as he
+propelled his steed toward the campus. "Maybe he will put a curse upon
+me and my right foot will wither up and I won't be able to kick goals!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+NEIL MAKES THE VARSITY
+
+On the 12th of October, Woodby College sent a team of light but very
+fast football players to Erskine with full determination to bring back
+the pigskin. And it very nearly succeeded. It was the first game of the
+season for Erskine, but Woodby had already played two, and was
+consequently rather more hardened. The first half ended with the score 6
+to 6, and the spectators, fully three hundred supporters of the Purple,
+looked glum. Neil and Paul were given their chance in the second half,
+taking the places of Gillam and Smith. Many other changes were made,
+among them one which installed the newly discovered Browning at left
+guard vice Carey, removed to the bench.
+
+There was no use in attempting to disguise the fact that Woodby
+literally played all around the home team. Her backs gained almost at
+will on end runs, and her punting was immeasurably superior. Foster, the
+Erskine quarter-back, sent kick after kick high into the air, and twenty
+yards was his best performance. On defense Woodby was almost equally
+strong, and had Erskine not outweighted her in the line some five pounds
+per man, would have forced her to kick every time. As it was, the
+purple-clad backs made but small and infrequent gains through the line,
+and very shortly found that runs outside of tackle or end were her best
+cards, even though, as was several times the case, her runners were
+nailed back of her line for losses.
+
+Team play was as yet utterly lacking in the Erskine eleven, and though
+the men were as a rule individually brilliant or decidedly promising,
+Woodby had far the best of it there. Fumbles were many on both sides,
+but Erskine's were the most costly. Stone's fumble of a free kick soon
+after the second half began gave Woodby her second touch-down, from
+which, luckily, she failed to kick goal. The veterans on the team,
+Tucker at left tackle, Graham at center, Cowan at right-guard, Foster at
+quarter, and Devoe at right end, played well with the glaring exception
+of Cowan, whose work in the second half especially was so slipshod that
+Mills, with wrath in his eye, took him out and put in Bell, a second
+eleven man.
+
+With the score 11 to 6 against her, Erskine braced up and fought
+doggedly to score. Neil proved the best ground-gainer, and made several
+five-and ten-yard runs around right end. Once, with the ball on Woodby's
+twelve yards and the audience shouting vehemently for a touch-down,
+Foster called on Paul for a plunge through right tackle. Paul made two
+yards, but in some manner lost the ball, a fumble that put Erskine back
+on her fifty-yard line and that sent her hopes of tying the score
+down to zero.
+
+The second half was to be but fifteen minutes long, and fully ten of the
+fifteen had gone by when Erskine took up her journey toward Woodby's
+goal again. Mason, the full-back, and Neil were sent plunging, bucking,
+hurdling at the enemy's breastworks, and time after time just managed to
+gain their distance in the three downs. Fortune was favoring Erskine,
+and Woodby's lighter men were slower and slower in finding their
+positions after each pile-up. Then, with the pigskin on Woodby's
+twenty-eight yards, Neil was given the ball for a try outside of right
+tackle, and by brilliantly leaving his interference, which had become
+badly tangled up, got safely away and staggered over the line just at
+the corner. The punt-out was a success and Devoe kicked goal, making the
+score 12 to 11 in Erskine's favor. For the rest of the half the home
+team was satisfied to keep Woodby away from its goal, and made no effort
+to score. Woodby left the field after the fashion of victors, which,
+practically, they were, while the Erskine players trotted subduedly back
+to the locker-house with unpleasant anticipations of what was before
+them--anticipations fully justified by subsequent events. For Mills tore
+them up very eloquently, and promised them that if they were scored on
+by the second eleven before the game with Harvard he'd send every man
+of them to the benches and take the second to Cambridge.
+
+Neil walked back to college beside Sydney Burr, insisting that that
+youth should take his hands from the levers and be pushed. Paul had got
+into the habit of always accompanying Cowan on his return from the
+field, and as Neil liked the big sophomore less and less the more he saw
+of him, he usually fell back on either Ted Foster or Sydney Burr for
+company. To-day it was Sydney. On the way that youth surprised Neil by
+his intelligent discussion and criticism of the game he had
+just watched.
+
+"How on earth did you get to know so much about football?" asked Neil.
+"You talk like a varsity coach."
+
+"Do I?" said Sydney, flushing with pleasure. "I--I always liked the
+game, and I've studied it quite a bit and watched it all I could. Of
+course, I can never play, but I get a good deal of enjoyment out of it.
+Sometimes"--his shyness returned momentarily and he hesitated--"sometimes
+I make believe that I'm playing, you know; put myself, in imagination,
+in the place of one of the team. To-day I--to-day I was you," he added
+with a deprecatory laugh.
+
+"You don't say?" cried Neil. Then the pathos of it struck him and he was
+silent a moment. The cripple's love and longing for sport in which he
+could never hope to join seemed terribly sad and gave him a choking
+sensation in his throat.
+
+"If I had been--like other fellows," continued Sydney, quite cheerfully,
+"I should have played everything--football, baseball, hockey,
+tennis--everything! I'd give--anything I've got--if I could just run
+from here to the corner." He was silent a minute, looking before him
+with eyes from which the usual brightness was gone. Then, "My, it must
+be good to run and walk and jump around just as you want to," he sighed.
+
+"Yes," muttered Neil, "but--but that was a good little run you made
+to-day." Sydney looked puzzled, then laughed.
+
+"In the game, you mean? Yes, wasn't it? And I made a touch-down and won
+the game. I was awfully afraid at one time that that Woodby quarter-back
+was going to nab me; that's why I made for the corner of the field
+like that."
+
+"I fancied that was the reason," answered Neil gravely. Then their eyes
+met and they laughed together.
+
+"Your friend Gale didn't play so well to-day," said Sydney presently.
+Neil shook his head with a troubled air.
+
+"No, he played rotten ball, and that's a fact. I don't know what's got
+into him of late. He doesn't seem to care whether he pleases Mills or
+not. I think it's that chap Cowan. He tells Paul that Mills and Devoe
+are imposing on him and that he isn't getting a fair show and all that
+sort of stuff. Know Cowan?"
+
+"Only by sight. I don't think I'd care to know him; he looks a good deal
+like--like--"
+
+"Just so," laughed Neil. "That's the way he strikes me."
+
+After dinner that evening Paul bewailed what he called his ill luck.
+Neil listened patiently for a while; then--
+
+"Look here, Paul," he said, "don't talk such rot. Luck had nothing to do
+with it, and you know it. The trouble was that you weren't in shape;
+you've been shilly-shallying around of late and just doing good enough
+work to keep Mills from dropping you to the scrub. It's that miserable
+idiot Tom Cowan that's to blame; he's been filling your head with
+nonsense; telling you that you are so good that you don't have to
+practise, and that Mills doesn't dare drop you, and lots of poppycock of
+that kind. Now, I'll tell you, chum, that the best thing to do is to go
+honestly to work and do your best."
+
+Paul was deeply insulted by this plain speaking, and very promptly took
+himself off up-stairs to Cowan's room. Of late he spent a good deal of
+his time there and Neil was getting worried. For Cowan was notably an
+idler, and the wonder was how he managed to keep himself in college even
+though he was taking but a partial course. To be sure, Cowan's fate
+didn't bother Neil a bit, but he was greatly afraid that his example
+would be followed by his roommate, who, at the best, was none too fond
+of study. Neil sat long that evening over an unopened book, striving to
+think of some method of weakening Cowan's hold on Paul--a hold that was
+daily growing stronger and which threatened to work ill to the latter.
+In the end Neil sighed, tossed down the volume, and made ready for bed
+without having found a solution of the problem.
+
+The following Monday Neil was rewarded for his good showing in the
+Woodby game by being taken on to the varsity. Paul remained on the
+second team, and Cowan, greatly to that gentleman's bewilderment and
+wrath, joined him there. The two teams, with their substitutes, went to
+training-table that day in Pearson's boarding-house on Elm Street, and
+preparation for the game with Harvard, now but nine days distant, began
+in earnest.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+THE RESULT OF A FUMBLE
+
+Sydney Burr had trundled himself out to the field and had drawn his
+tricycle close up to the low wooden fence that divides the gridiron from
+the grand stand and against which the players on the benches lean their
+blanketed backs. From there he had an uninterrupted view. It was a
+perfect afternoon. Overhead a few white clouds drifted lazily about
+against a warm blue sky. The sun shone brightly and mocked at light
+overcoats. But for all that there was an October sparkle in the air, and
+once in a while a tiny breeze from the north came across the yellowing
+field and whispered that winter was not far behind.
+
+Sydney had a rug thrown over his lower limbs and wore a warm white
+woolen sweater. There was quite a dash of color in his usually pale
+cheeks, and his blue eyes flashed with interest as he watched the men at
+practise. Near at hand a panting group of fellows were going through the
+signals, the quarter crying his numbers with gasps for breath, then
+passing the ball to half-or full-back and quickly throwing himself into
+the interference. Sydney recognized him as Bailey, the varsity
+substitute. Sydney knew almost all the players by sight now and the
+names of many.
+
+Near the east goal two lines of heaving, charging men were being coached
+by Mills in breaking through. Stowell, the big, good-natured substitute
+center, was bending over the ball. Sydney could hear Mills's
+sharp voice:
+
+"Now draw back, defense, and lunge into them! Get the start on them!"
+
+Then the ball was snapped and the two ranks heaved and pitched a moment
+before the offense broke through and scattered the turf with little
+clumps of writhing players.
+
+"That was good, Tucker, good!" cried Mills. "You did just as I told you.
+Now give the ball to the other side. Weight forward, defense, every one
+of you on his toes. _Browning, watch that ball!_ Now get into them,
+every one! Block them!"
+
+At the other end of the field six fellows were kicking goal and six
+others, stretched upon the turf, were holding the balls for them. Devoe
+was coaching. Sydney could see Neil, the farthest away of any, lifting
+the leather toward the posts from a difficult angle on the twenty-yard
+line. Even as he watched, the ball sailed away from Neil's toe and went
+fair over the cross-bar, and Sydney silently applauded. He set himself
+to recognizing the other kickers. There was Gale, the tall and rather
+heavy fellow in the crimson sleeves; and Mason, equally tall but all
+corners and angles; and Smith, and Gillam, and Foster. Devoe seemed to
+be laying down the law forcibly to Gale; he was gesticulating with his
+hands and nodding his head like a Chinese mandarin. Sydney could not
+hear what he was saying, nor could he see Gale's face; but in the
+attitude of the captain there was exasperation, and in that of Gale
+sullen impatience.
+
+Another group at signal practise drew nigh, and Sydney gave his
+attention to it. Reardon, the second eleven quarter, sang his signals in
+a queer, shrill voice that was irresistibly funny. In front of Sydney he
+raised himself, wiped his palms on his stained trousers, grimaced at one
+of the halves, and took a deep breath. Then--
+
+"_Signal_!" he cried. "_7--8--4--6!_"
+
+Eight half bounded by him, full-back fell in behind and took the ball,
+left half dashed after, and the group trotted away to line up again ten
+yards down the field. But presently the lines at the east goal broke up
+and trotted toward the benches, and Mills called the players in from all
+parts of the field. The water-pail was surrounded and the thirsty
+players rinsed out their mouths, well knowing the reprimand that awaited
+should they be rash enough to take even one swallow. Sweaters were
+hurriedly donned, Simson dealing them out from the pile on the ground,
+and the fellows sank on to the benches. Neil saw Sydney, and talked to
+him over the fence until he heard his name called from the line-up.
+
+"I think I shall make a touch-down to-day," said Sydney. Neil shook his
+head, smiling:
+
+"I don't know about that; you're not feeling so fit to-day, you know."
+
+"Oh, that doesn't matter," answered the cripple. "You just watch me."
+
+Neil laughed, and hurrying off, was fitted with his head harness and
+trotted out to his place. Sydney was mistaken, as events proved, for
+he--in the person of Neil Fletcher--failed to get over the second's
+goal-line in either of the short halves; which was also true of all the
+other varsity players. But if she didn't score, the varsity kept the
+second at bay, and that was a good deal. The second played desperately,
+being convinced that Mills would keep his promise and, if they succeeded
+in scoring on their opponents, give them the honor of facing Harvard the
+following Wednesday. But the varsity, being equally convinced of the
+fact, played quite as desperately, and the two teams trotted off with
+honors even.
+
+"Sponge off, everybody!" was the stentorian command from the trainer,
+and one by one the players leaned over while the big, dripping sponge
+was applied to face and head. Then sweaters were again donned and the
+four laps around the field began, the men trotting by twos and threes,
+or, in the case of the injured ones, trailing along behind.
+
+The next day, Wednesday, October 16th, Erskine played Dexter. Dexter is
+a preparatory school that has a way of turning out strong elevens, many
+of which in previous years had put up excellent fights against Erskine.
+On the present occasion Erskine went into the game with a line largely
+composed of substitutes and a back-field by no means as strong as
+possible. During the first half Dexter was forced to give all her
+attention to defending her goal, and had no time for incursions into
+Erskine territory. The home college ran up 17 points, Devoe missing one
+goal. In the second half Erskine made further changes in her team. Cowan
+took Witter's place at right-guard, Reardon went in at quarter in place
+of Bailey, and Neil, who had watched the first half greedily from the
+side-line, went in at left half.
+
+It was Dexter's kick-off, and she sent the ball fully forty yards.
+Reardon called to Neil to take it. That youth got it on his ten yards,
+and by fine dodging ran it back to the eighteen-yard line. From there it
+was advanced by straight line-plunging to Erskine's forty yards, and it
+seemed that a procession down the field to another touch-down had begun.
+But at this point Fate and Tom Cowan took a hand. Cowan was taken back
+of the line for a plunge through tackle. With right half and full lined
+up in tandem behind him he was given the ball and shot through easily
+for several yards. Then, his support gone, he staggered on for five
+yards more by sheer force of weight with two Dexter backs dragging at
+him, and there, for no apparent cause, dropped the pigskin. The Dexter
+quarter-back, running in to stop Cowan, was on it in a twinkling, had
+skirted the right end of the _mêlée_ and was racing toward Erskine's
+goal. It had happened so quickly and unexpectedly that the runner was
+fifteen yards to the good before pursuit began. Devoe and Neil took up
+the chase, but it was a hopeless task, and in another minute the little
+band of crimson-adorned Dexter supporters and substitutes on the
+side-line were yelling like mad. The Dexter quarter placed the ball
+nicely behind the very center of the west goal, and when it was taken
+out none but a cripple could have failed to kick it over the cross-bar.
+As Dexter's left-end was not a cripple her score changed from a 5 to
+a 6.
+
+But that was the end of her offensive work for that afternoon. Erskine
+promptly took the ball from her after the kick-off, and kept it until
+Neil had punctured Dexter's line between left-guard and tackle and waded
+through a sea of clutching foes twelve yards for a touch-down. Devoe
+once more failed at goal, and five minutes later the game came to an end
+with the final score 22 to 6. Dexter was happy and Erskine disgruntled.
+
+In the locker-house after the game Mills had some sharp things to say,
+and didn't hesitate to say them in his best manner. There was
+absolutely no favoritism shown; he began at one end of the line and went
+to the other, then dropped back to left half, took in quarter on the
+way, and ended up with full. Some got off easy; Neil was among them; and
+so was Devoe, for it is not a good policy for a coach to endanger a
+captain's authority by public criticism; but when it was all over no one
+felt slighted. And when all were beginning to breathe easier, thinking
+the storm had passed, it burst forth anew.
+
+"Cowan, I don't see how you came to drop that ball," said Mills, in
+fresh exasperation. "Why, great Scott, man, there was no one touching
+you except a couple of schoolboys tugging at your legs! What was the
+matter? Paralysis? Vertigo? Or haven't you learned yet, after two years
+of football playing, to hang on to the ball? There's a cozy nook waiting
+on the second scrub for fellows like you!"
+
+Cowan, his pride already sorely wounded, found the last too much for his
+temper.
+
+"No one can help an occasional accident," he blurted. "If I did fumble,
+there's no reason why you should insult me. Lots of fellows have fumbled
+before and got off without being walked on. I've played my position for
+two years, and I guess I know how to do it. But when a fellow is singled
+out as a--a scapegoat--"
+
+"That will do, Cowan," interrupted Mills quietly. "You've lost your
+temper. We don't want men on this team who can't stand criticism--"
+
+"Criticism!" sneered Cowan, looking very red and ugly.
+
+"Yes, criticism!" answered Mills sharply, "and scolding, too, my friend.
+I'm here to turn out a team that will win from Robinson and not to cater
+to any one's vanity; when it's necessary, I'm going to scold and say
+some hard things. But I've never insulted any fellow and I never will.
+I've had my eye on you ever since practise began, Cowan, and let me tell
+you that you haven't at any time passed muster; your playing's been
+slovenly, careless, and generally mean. You've soldiered half the time.
+And I think we can get along without you for the rest of the season."
+
+Mills, his blue eyes sparkling, turned away, and Stowell and White, who
+for a minute past had been striving to check Cowan's utterances, now
+managed to drag him away.
+
+"Shut up!" whispered White hoarsely. "Don't be a fool! Come out of
+here!" And they hauled him outside, where, on the porch, he gave vent
+anew to his wrath until they left him finally in disgust.
+
+He slouched in to see Paul after dinner that evening, much to Neil's
+impatience, and taking up a commanding position on a corner of the
+study-table, recited his tale of injustice with great eloquence. Paul,
+who had spent the afternoon with other unfortunates on the benches, was
+full of sympathy.
+
+"It's a dirty shame, Tom," he said. "And I'm glad you waded into Mills
+the way you did. It was fine!"
+
+"Little white-haired snake!" exclaimed Cowan. "Drops me from training
+just because I make a fumble! Why, you've fumbled, Paul, and so's
+Fletcher here; lots of times. But he doesn't lay _you_ off! Oh, dear,
+no; you're swells whose names will look well in the line-up for the
+Robinson game! But here I've played on the team for two years, and now
+off I go just because I dropped a ball. It's rank injustice!
+
+"I suppose he thinks I've got to play football here. If he does he's
+away off, that's all. I could have gone to Robinson this fall and had
+everything I wanted. They guaranteed me a position at guard or tackle,
+and I wouldn't have needed to bother with studies as I do here, either."
+The last remark called a smile to Neil's face, and Cowan unfortunately
+glanced his way and saw it.
+
+"I dare say if I was willing to toady to Mills and Devoe, and tell
+everybody they're the finest football leaders that ever came down the
+pike, it would be different," he sneered angrily. "Maybe then Mills
+would give me private instruction in goal-kicking and let me black his
+boots for him."
+
+Neil closed his book and leaned back in his chair, a little disk of red
+in each cheek.
+
+"Now, look here, Tom Cowan, let's have this out," he said quietly.
+"You're hitting at me, of course--"
+
+"Oh, keep out, chum," protested Paul. "Cowan hasn't mentioned you once."
+
+"He doesn't need to," answered Neil. "I understand without it. But let
+me tell you, Cowan, that I do not toady to either Mills or Devoe. I do
+treat them, however, as I would any one who was in authority over me. I
+don't think merely because I've played the game before that I know all
+the football there is to know."
+
+"Meaning that I do?" growled Cowan.
+
+"I mean that you've got a swelled head, Cowan, and that when Mills said
+you hadn't been doing your best he only told the truth, and what every
+fellow knows."
+
+"Shut up, Neil!" cried Paul angrily. "It isn't necessary for you to
+pitch into Cowan just because he's down on his luck."
+
+"I don't mind him," said Cowan, eying Neil with hatred. "He's sore about
+what I said. I dare say I shouldn't have said it. If he's Mills's
+darling--"
+
+Neil pushed back his chair, and rose to his feet with blazing eyes.
+
+"Kindly get out of here," he said. "I've had enough of your insults.
+This is my room; please leave it!" Cowan stared a moment in surprise,
+hesitated, threw a glance of inquiry at Paul's troubled and averted
+face, and slid from the table.
+
+"Of course you can put me out of your room," he sneered. "For that
+matter, I'm glad to leave it. I did think, though, that part of the shop
+was Paul's, but I dare say he has to humor you."
+
+"The room's as much mine as his," said Paul, "and I want you to stay in
+it." He looked defiantly over at his friend. Neil had not bargained for
+a quarrel with Paul, but was too incensed to back down.
+
+"And I say you sha'n't stay," he declared. "Paul and I will settle the
+proprietorship of the room after you're out of it. Now you get!"
+
+"Maybe you'll put me out?" asked Cowan with a show of bravado. But he
+glanced toward the door as he spoke. Neil nodded.
+
+"Maybe I will," he answered grimly.
+
+"Cowan's my guest, Neil!" cried Paul. "And you've no right to put him
+out, and I sha'n't let you!"
+
+"He'll go out of here, if I have to fight him and you too, Paul!" Paul
+stared in wonderment. He was so used to being humored by his roommate
+that this declaration of war took his breath away. Cowan laughed with
+attempted nonchalance.
+
+"Your friend's a bit chesty, Paul," he said. "Perhaps we'd better humor
+him."
+
+"No, stay where you are," said Paul. "If he thinks he's boss of me he's
+mistaken." He glared wrathfully at Neil, and yet with a trifle of
+uneasiness. Paul was no coward, but physical conflict with Neil was
+something so contrary to the natural order that it appalled him. Neil
+removed the gorgeous bottle-green velvet jacket that he wore in the
+evenings, and threw open the study door. Then he faced Cowan. That
+gentleman returned his gaze for a moment defiantly. But something in
+Neil's expression caused his eyes to drop and seek the portal. He
+laughed uneasily, and with simulated indifference laid his hand on
+Paul's shoulder.
+
+"Come on, old chap," he said, "let's get out before we're torn to bits.
+There's no pleasure in staying with such a disagreeable fire-eater,
+anyhow. Come up to my room, and let him cool off."
+
+Paul hesitated, and then turned to follow Cowan, who was strolling
+toward the door. Angry as he was, deep in his heart he was glad to avoid
+conflict with his chum.
+
+"All right," he answered in a voice that trembled, "we'll go;
+but"--turning to Neil--"if you think I'm going to put up with this sort
+of thing, you're mistaken. You can have this room, and I'll
+get another."
+
+"I'd suggest your rooming with Cowan," answered Neil, "since you're so
+fond of him."
+
+"Your friend's jealous," laughed Cowan from the hall. Paul joined him,
+slamming the door loudly as he went.
+
+Neil heard Cowan's laughter and the sound of their steps as they climbed
+the stairs. For several moments he stood motionless, staring at the
+door. Then he shook his head, donned his jacket, and sat down again. Now
+that it was done, he was intensely sorry. As for the quarrel with Cowan,
+that troubled not at all; but an open breach with Paul was something new
+and something which, just at this time especially, might work for ill.
+Paul was already so far under Cowan's domination that anything tending
+to foster their friendship was unfortunate. Neil was ashamed, too, of
+his burst of temper, and the remainder of the evening passed
+miserably enough.
+
+When Paul returned he was cold and repellent, and answered Neil's
+attempts at conversation in monosyllables. Neil, however, was glad to
+find that Paul said nothing further about a change of quarters, and in
+that fact found encouragement. After all, Paul would soon get over his
+anger, he told himself; the two had been firm friends for three years,
+and it would take something more than the present affair to
+estrange them.
+
+But as the days passed and Paul showed no disposition to make friends
+again, Neil began to despair. He knew that Cowan was doing all in his
+power to widen the breach and felt certain that left to himself Paul
+would have forgotten his grievance long ago. Paul spent most of his time
+in Cowan's room when at home, and Neil passed many dull hours. One thing
+there was, however, which pleased him. Cowan's absence from the field
+worked a difference from the first in Paul's playing, and the latter was
+now evidently putting his heart into his work. He made such a good
+showing between the day of Cowan's dismissal and the following Wednesday
+that he was scheduled to play right half against Harvard, and was
+consequently among the little army of players and supporters that
+journeyed to Cambridge on that day.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+ON THE HOSPITAL LIST
+
+Harvard's good showing thus far during the season convinced Erskine that
+could she hold the crimson warriors down to five scores she would be
+doing remarkably well, and that could she, by any miracle, cross
+Harvard's goal-line she would be practically victorious. The team that
+journeyed to Cambridge on October 23d was made up as follows:
+
+Stone, l.e.; Tucker, l.t.; Carey, l.g.; Stowell, c.; Witter, r.g.;
+White, r.t.; Devoe, r.e.; Foster, q.b.; Fletcher, l.h.b.; Gale, r.h.b.;
+Mason, f.b.
+
+Besides these, eight substitutes went along and some thirty patriotic
+students followed. Among the latter was Sydney Burr and "Fan"
+Livingston. Neil had brought the two together, and Livingston had
+readily taken to the crippled youth. In Livingston's care Sydney had no
+difficulty in making the trip to Soldiers Field and back comfortably
+and safely.
+
+There is no need to tell in detail here of the Harvard-Erskine contest.
+Those who saw it will give Erskine credit for a plucky struggle against
+a heavier, more advanced, and much superior team. In the first half
+Harvard scored three times, and the figures were 17-0. In the second
+half both teams put in several substitutes. For Erskine, Browning went
+in for Carey, Graham for Stowell, Hurst for Witter, Pearse for Mason,
+and Bailey for Foster. In this half Harvard crossed Erskine's goal-line
+three more times without much difficulty, while Erskine made the most of
+a stroke of rare good luck, and changed her goose-egg for the figure 5.
+
+On the Purple's forty yards Harvard fumbled, not for the first time that
+day, and Neil, more by accident than design, got the pigskin on the
+bounce, and, skirting the opposing right end, went up the field for a
+touch down without ever being in danger. The Erskine supporters went mad
+with delight, and the Harvard stand was ruefully silent. Devoe missed a
+difficult goal and a few minutes later the game ended with a final score
+of 34-5. Mills, however, would gladly have yielded that five points, if
+by so doing he could have taken ten from the larger score. He was
+disappointed in the team's defense, and realized that a wonderful
+improvement was necessary if Robinson was to be defeated.
+
+And so the Erskine players were plainly given to understand the next day
+that they had not acquired all the glory they thought they had. The
+advance guard of the assistant coaches put in an appearance in the shape
+of Jones and Preston, both old Erskine football men, and took hold with
+a vim. Jones, a former guard, a big man with bristling black hair, took
+the line men under his wing and made them jump. Neil, Paul, and several
+others were taken in hand by Preston, and were daily put through a
+vigorous course of punting and kicking. Neil was fast acquiring speed
+and certainty in the art of kicking goals from drop and placement, while
+Paul promised to turn out a fair second choice.
+
+Jones, as every one soon learned, was far from satisfied with the line
+of material at his disposal. He wanted more weight, especially in the
+center trio, and was soon pleading with Mills to have Cowan reinstated.
+The head coach ultimately relented, and Devoe was given to understand
+that if Cowan expressed himself decently regretful and determined to do
+good work he could go back into the second. The big sophomore, who, by
+his frequent avowals, was in college for no other purpose than to play
+football, had simply been lost since his dismissal, and, upon hearing
+Devoe's message, eagerly came off his high horse and made a visit to
+Mills. What he said and what Mills said is not known; but Cowan went
+back into the second team at right-guard, and on Saturday was given a
+try at that position in the game with Erstham. He did so well that Jones
+was highly pleased, and Mills found it in his heart to forgive. The
+results of the Erstham game were both unexpected and important.
+
+Instead of the comparatively easy victory anticipated, Erskine barely
+managed to save herself from being played to a standstill, and the final
+figures were 6-0 in her favor. The score was made in the last eight
+minutes of the second half by fierce line-bucking, but not before half
+of the purple line had given place to substitutes, and one of the
+back-field had been carried bodily off the gridiron.
+
+With the ball on Erstham's twenty-six yards, where it had been
+desperately carried by the relentless plunging and hurdling of Neil,
+Smith, and Mason, Erstham twice successfully repelled the onslaught, and
+it was Erskine's third down with two yards to gain. To lose the ball by
+kicking was the last thing to be thought of, and so, despite the fact
+that hitherto well-nigh every attempt at end running had met with
+failure, Foster gave the ball to Neil for a try around the Erstham left
+end. It was a forlorn hope, and unfortunately Erstham was looking for
+it. Neil found his outlet blocked by his own interference, and was
+forced to run far out into the field. The play was a failure from the
+first. Erstham's big right half and an equally big line man tackled Neil
+simultaneously for a loss and threw him heavily.
+
+When they got off him Neil tried to arise, but, with a groan, subsided
+again on the turf. The whistle blew and Simson ran on. Neil was
+evidently suffering a good deal of pain, for his face was ashen and he
+rolled his head from side to side with eyes half closed. His right arm
+lay outstretched and without movement, and in an instant the trouble was
+found. Simson examined the injury quickly and called for the doctor, who
+probed Neil's shoulder with knowing fingers, while the latter's white
+face was being sopped with the dripping sponge.
+
+"Right shoulder's dislocated, Jim," said Dr. Prentiss quietly to the
+trainer. "Take hold here; put your hands here, and pull toward you
+steadily. Now!"
+
+Then Neil fainted.
+
+When he regained consciousness he was being borne from the field between
+four of his fellows. At the locker-house the injured shoulder was laid
+bare, and the doctor went to work.
+
+The pain had subsided, and only a queer soreness remained. Neil watched
+operations with interest, his face fast regaining its color.
+
+"Nothing much, is it?" he asked.
+
+"Not a great deal. You've smashed your shoulder-blade a bit, and maybe
+torn a ligament. I'll fix you up in a minute."
+
+"Will it keep me from playing?"
+
+"Yes, for a while, my boy."
+
+Bandage after bandage was swathed about the shoulder, and the arm was
+fixed in what Neil conceived to be the most unnatural and awkward
+position possible.
+
+"How long is this going to lay me up?" he asked anxiously. But the
+doctor shook his head.
+
+"Can't tell yet. We'll see how you get along."
+
+"Well, a week?"
+
+"Maybe."
+
+"Two?"
+
+"Possibly."
+
+"But--but it can't! It mustn't!" he cried. The door opened and Simson
+entered. "Simson," he called, "he says this may keep me laid up for two
+weeks. It won't, will it?"
+
+"I hope not, Fletcher. But you must get it well healed, or else it may
+go back on you again. Don't worry about--"
+
+"Don't worry! But, great Scott, the Robinson game's only a month off!"
+
+The trainer patted his arm soothingly.
+
+"I know, but we must make the best of it. It's hard lines, but the only
+thing to do is to take care of yourself and get well as soon as
+possible. The doc will get you out again as soon as it can be done, but
+you'll have to be doing your part, Fletcher, and keeping quiet and
+cheerful--"
+
+"Cheerful!" groaned Neil.
+
+"And getting strong. Now you're fixed and I'll go over to your room with
+you. How do you feel?"
+
+"All right, I suppose," replied Neil hopelessly.
+
+Simson walked beside him back to college and across the campus and the
+common to his room, and saw him installed in an easy-chair with a pillow
+behind the injured shoulder.
+
+"There you are," said the trainer. "Prentiss will look in this evening
+and I'll see you in the morning. You'd better keep indoors for a few
+days, you know. I'll have your meals sent over. Don't worry about this,
+but keep yourself cheerful and--"
+
+Neil leaned his head against the pillow and closed his eyes.
+
+"Oh, go 'way," he muttered miserably.
+
+When Paul came in half an hour later he found Neil staring motionless
+out of the window, settled melancholy on his face.
+
+"How bad is it, chum?" asked Paul. He hadn't called Neil "chum" for over
+a week--not since their quarrel.
+
+"Bad enough to spoil my chances for the Robinson game," answered Neil
+bitterly. Paul gave vent to a low whistle.
+
+"By Jove! I am sorry, old chap. That's beastly, isn't it? What does
+Prentiss say?"
+
+Neil told him and gained some degree of animation in fervid protestation
+against his fate. For want of another, he held the doctor to account for
+everything, only admitting Simson to an occasional share in the blame.
+Paul looked genuinely distressed, joining him in denunciation of
+Prentiss and uttering such bits of consolation as occurred to him. These
+generally consisted of such original remarks as "Perhaps it won't be as
+bad as they think." "I don't believe doctors know everything, after
+all." "Mills will make them get you around before two weeks, I'll bet."
+
+After dinner Paul returned to report a state of general gloom at
+training-table.
+
+"Every one's awfully sorry and cut up about it, chum. Mills says he'll
+come and look you up in the morning, and told me to tell you to keep
+your courage up." After his information had given out, Paul walked
+restlessly about the study, taking up book after book only to lay it
+down again, and behaving generally like a fish out of water. Neil,
+grateful for the other's sympathy, and secretly delighted at the healing
+of the breach, could afford to be generous.
+
+"I say, Paul, I'll be all right. Just give me the immortal Livy, will
+you? Thanks. And you might put that tray out of the way somewhere and
+shove the drop-light a bit nearer. That's better. I'll be all right now;
+you run along."
+
+"Run along where?" asked Paul.
+
+"Well, I thought maybe you were going out or--somewhere."
+
+Paul's face expressed astonishment. He took up a book and settled
+himself firmly in the wicker rocking-chair.
+
+"No," he said, "I'm not going anywhere."
+
+Neil studied in silence a while, and Paul turned several pages of his
+book. Then footsteps sounded on the stairs and Cowan's voice hailed Paul
+from beyond the closed door.
+
+"O Paul, are you coming along?"
+
+Paul glanced irresolutely from the door to Neil's face, which was bent
+calmly over his book. Then--"No," he called gruffly, "not to-night!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+SYDNEY STUDIES STRATEGY
+
+Neil was holding a levee. Livingston shared the couch with him. Foster
+reclined in Paul's armchair. Sydney Burr sat in the protesting wicker
+rocker, his crutches beside him, and South, his countenance much
+disfigured by strips of surgeon's plaster, grinned steadily from the
+table, where he sat and swung his feet. Paul was up-stairs in Cowan's
+room, for while he and Neil had quite made up their difference, and
+while Paul spent much of his leisure time with his chum, yet he still
+cultivated the society of the big sophomore at intervals. Neil, however,
+believed he could discern a gradual lessening of Paul's regard for
+Cowan, and was encouraged. He had grown to look upon his injury and the
+idleness it enforced with some degree of cheerfulness since it had
+brought about reconciliation between him and his roommate, and, as he
+believed, rescued the latter to some extent from the influence of Cowan.
+
+"Doc says the shoulder is 'doing nicely,' whatever that may mean," Neil
+was saying, "and that I will likely be able to get back to light work
+next week." The announcement didn't sound very joyful, for it was now
+only the evening of the fourth day since the accident, and "next week"
+seemed a long way off to him.
+
+"It was hard luck, old man," said South.
+
+"Your sympathy's very dear to me," answered Neil, "but it would seem
+more genuine if you'd stop grinning from ear to ear."
+
+"Can't," replied South. "It's the plaster."
+
+"He's been looking like the Cheshire cat for two days," said Livingston.
+"You see, when they patched him up they asked if he was suffering much
+agony, and he grinned that way just to show that he was a hero, and
+before he could get his face straight they had the plaster on. He gets
+credit for being much better natured than he really is."
+
+"Credit!" said South. "I get worse than that. 'Sandy' saw me grinning at
+him in class yesterday and got as mad as a March hare; said I was
+'deesrespectful.'"
+
+"But how did it happen?" asked Neil, struggling with his laughter.
+
+"Lacrosse," replied South. "Murdoch was tending goal and I was trying to
+get the ball by him. I tripped over his stick and banged my face against
+a goal-iron. That's all."
+
+"Seems to me it's enough," said Foster. "What did you do to Murdoch?"
+South opened his eyes in innocent surprise.
+
+"Nothing."
+
+"Nothing be blowed, my boy. Murdoch's limping to beat the band."
+
+"Oh!" grinned South. "That was afterward; he got mixed up with my stick,
+and, I fear, hurt his shins."
+
+"Well," said Neil, when the laughter was over, "football seems deadly
+enough, but I begin to think it's a parlor game for rainy evenings
+alongside of lacrosse."
+
+"There won't be many fellows left for the Robinson game," said Sydney,
+"if they keep on getting hurt."
+
+"That's so," Livingston concurred. "Fletcher, White, Jewell, Brown,
+Stowell--who else?"
+
+"Well, I'm not feeling well myself," said Foster.
+
+"We were referring to _players_, Teddy, my love," replied South sweetly.
+
+"Insulted!" cried Foster, leaping wildly to his feet. "It serves me
+right for associating with a lot of freshmen. Good-night, Fletcher, my
+wounded gladiator. Get well and come back to us; all will be forgiven."
+
+"I'd like the chance of forgiving the fellow that jumped on my
+shoulder," said Neil. "I'd send him to join Murdoch."
+
+"That's not nice," answered Foster gravely. "Forgive your enemies.
+Good-night, you cubs."
+
+"Hold on," said Livingston, "I'm going your way. Good-night, Fletcher.
+Cheer up and get well. We need you and so does the team. Remember the
+class is looking forward to seeing you win a few touch-downs in the
+Robinson game."
+
+"Oh, I'll be all right," answered Neil, "and if they'll let me into the
+game I'll do my best. Only--I'm afraid I'll be a bit stale when I get
+out again."
+
+"Not you," declared Livingston heartily. "'Age can not wither nor custom
+stale your infinite variety.'"
+
+"That's a quotation from--somebody," said South accusingly. "'Fan' wants
+us to think he made it up. Besides, I don't think it's correct; it
+should be, 'Custom can not age nor wither stale your various interests.'
+Hold on, I'm not particular; I'll walk along with you two. But fortune
+send we don't meet the Dean," he continued, as he slid to the floor. "I
+called on him Monday; a little affair of too many cuts; 'Mr. South,'
+said he sorrowfully, 'avoid two things while in college--idleness and
+evil associations.' I promised, fellows, and here I am breaking that
+promise. Farewell, Fletcher; bear up under your great load of
+affliction. Good-night, Burr. Kindly see that he gets his medicine
+regularly every seven minutes, and don't let him sleep in a draft;
+pajamas are much warmer."
+
+"Come on, you grinning idiot," said Foster.
+
+When the door had closed upon the three, Sydney placed his crutches
+under his arms and moved over to the chair beside the couch.
+
+"Look here, Neil, you don't really think, do you, that you'll have any
+trouble getting back into your place?"
+
+"I hardly know. Of course two weeks of idleness makes a big difference.
+And besides, I'm losing a lot of practise. This new close-formation that
+Mills is teaching will be Greek to me."
+
+"It's simple enough," said Sydney. "The backs are bunched right up to
+the line, the halfs on each side of quarter, and the full just
+behind him."
+
+"Well, but I don't see--"
+
+"Wait," interrupted Sydney, "I'll show you."
+
+He drew a folded sheet of paper from his pocket and passed it to the
+other. Neil scowled over it a moment, and then looked up helplessly.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"What is it?" he asked. "Something weird in geometry?"
+
+"No," laughed Sydney, "it's a play from close-formation. I drew it this
+morning."
+
+"Oh," said Neil. "Let's see; what--Here, explain it; where do I come
+in?"
+
+"Why, your position is at the left of quarter, behind the center-guard,
+and a little farther back. Full stands directly behind quarter. See?"
+
+"Pshaw! if we get into a crowd like that," said Neil, "we'll get all
+tied up."
+
+"No you won't; not the way Mills and Devoe are teaching it. You see, the
+idea is to knife the backs through; there isn't any plunging to speak of
+and not much hurdling. The forwards open up a hole, and almost before
+the ball's well in play one of the backs is squirming through. Quarter
+gives you the ball at a hand-pass, always; there's no long passing done;
+except, of course, for a kick. Being right up to the line when play
+begins it only takes you a fraction of a second to hit it; and then, if
+the hole's there you're through before the other side has opened their
+eyes. Of course, it all depends on speed and the ability of the line-men
+to make holes. You've got to be on your toes, and you've got to get off
+them like a streak of lightning."
+
+"Well, maybe it's all right," said Neil doubtfully, "but it looks like
+a mix-up. Who gets the ball in this play here?"
+
+"Right half. Left half plunges through between left-guard and center to
+make a diversion. Full-back goes through between left tackle and end
+ahead of right half, who carries the ball. Quarter follows. Of course
+the play can be made around end instead. What do you think of it?"
+
+"All right; but--I think I'd ought to have the ball."
+
+"You would when the play went to the right," laughed Sydney. "The fact
+is, I--this particular play hasn't been used. I sort of got it up
+myself. I don't know whether it would be any good. I sometimes try my
+hand at inventing plays, just for fun, you know."
+
+"Really?" exclaimed Neil. "Well, you are smart. I could no more draw all
+those nice little cakes and pies and things than I could fly. And it--it
+looks plausible, I think. But I'm no authority on this sort of thing.
+Are you going to show it to Devoe?"
+
+"Oh, no; I dare say it's no use. It may be as old as the hills; I
+suppose it is. It's hard to find anything new nowadays in
+football plays."
+
+"But you don't know," said Neil. "Maybe it's a good thing. I'll tell
+you, Syd, you let me have this, and I'll show it to Mills."
+
+"Oh, I'd rather not," protested Sydney, reddening. "Of course it
+doesn't amount to anything; I dare say he's thought of it long ago."
+
+"But maybe he hasn't," Neil persuaded. "Come, let me show it to him,
+like a good chap."
+
+"Well--But couldn't you let him think you did it?"
+
+"No; I'd be up a tree if he asked me to explain it. But don't you be
+afraid of Mills; he's a fine chap. Come and see me to-morrow night,
+will you?"
+
+Sydney agreed, and, arising, swung himself across the study to where his
+coat and cap lay.
+
+"By the way," he asked, "where's Paul to-night?"
+
+"He's calling on Cowan," answered Neil.
+
+Sydney looked as though he wanted to say something and didn't dare.
+Finally he found courage.
+
+"I should think he'd stay in his room now that you're laid up," he said.
+
+"Oh, he does," answered Neil. "Paul's all right, only he's a
+bit--careless. I guess I've humored him too much. Good-night. Don't
+forget to-morrow night."
+
+Mills called the following forenoon. Ever since Neil's accident he had
+made it his duty to inquire daily after him, and the two were getting
+very well acquainted. Neil likened Mills to a crab--rather crusty on the
+outside, he told himself, but all right when you got under the shell.
+Neil was getting under the shell.
+
+To-day, after Neil had reported on his state of health and spirits, he
+brought out Sydney's diagram. Mills examined it carefully, silently, for
+some time. Then he nodded his head.
+
+"Not bad; rather clever. Who did it; you?"
+
+"No, I couldn't if I was to be killed. Sydney Burr did it. Maybe you've
+seen him. A cripple; goes around on a tricycle."
+
+"Yes, I've seen the boy. But does he--has he played?"
+
+"Never; he's been a crip all his life." Mills opened his eyes in
+astonishment.
+
+"Well, if that's so this is rather wonderful. It's a good play,
+Fletcher, but it's not original; that is, not altogether. But as far as
+Burr's concerned it is, of course. Look here, the fellow ought to be
+encouraged. I'll see him and tell him to try his hand again."
+
+"He's coming here this evening," said Neil. "Perhaps you could look in
+for a moment?"
+
+"I will. Let me take this; I want Jones to see it. He thinks he's a
+wonder at diagrams," laughed Mills, "and I want to tell him this was got
+up by a crippled freshman who has never kicked a ball!"
+
+And so that evening Mills and Neil and Sydney gathered about the big
+study-table and talked long about gridiron tactics and strategy and the
+art of inventing plays. Mills praised Sydney's production and encouraged
+him to try again.
+
+"But let me tell you first how we're situated," said the head coach, "so
+that you will see just what we're after. Our material is good but light.
+Robinson will come into the field on the twenty-third weighing about
+eight pounds more to a man in the line and ten pounds more behind it.
+That's bad enough, but she's going to play tackle-back about the way
+we've taught the second eleven to play it. Her tackles will weigh about
+one hundred and eighty-five pounds each. She will take one of those men,
+range him up in front of our center-guard hole, and put two backs with
+him, tandem fashion. When that trio, joined by the other half and the
+quarter, hits our line it's going right through it--that is, unless we
+can find some means of stopping it. So far we haven't found that means.
+We've tried several things; we're still trying; but we haven't found the
+play we want.
+
+"If we're to win that game we've got to play on the defensive; we've got
+to stop tackle-back and rely on an end run now and then and lots of
+punting to get us within goal distance. Then our play is to score by a
+quick run or a field-goal. The offense we're working up--we'll call it
+close-formation for want of a better name--is, we think, the best we can
+find. The idea is to open holes quickly and jab a runner through before
+our heavier and necessarily slower opponents can concentrate their
+weight at the point of attack. For the close-formation we have, I think,
+plays covering every phase. And so, while a good offensive strategy
+will be welcome, yet what we stand in greatest need of is a play to stop
+Robinson's tackle-tandem. Now you apparently have ability in this line,
+Mr. Burr; and, what's more, you have the time to study the thing up.
+Supposing you try your hand and see what you can do. If you can find
+what we want--something that the rest of us can't find, by the
+way--you'll be doing as much, if not more, than any of us toward
+securing a victory over Robinson. And don't hesitate to come and see me
+if you find yourself in a quandary or whenever you've got anything
+to show."
+
+And Sydney trundled himself back to his room and sat up until after
+midnight puzzling his brains over the tackle-tandem play, finally
+deciding that a better understanding of the play was necessary before he
+could hope to discover its remedy. When he crawled into bed and closed
+his tired eyes it was to see a confused jumble of orange-hued lines and
+circles running riot in the darkness.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+MAKES A CALL
+
+Despite Neil's absence from Erskine Field, preparation for the crowning
+conflict of the year went on with vigor and enthusiasm. The ranks of the
+coaches were swelled from day to day by patriotic alumni, some of whom
+were of real help, others of whom merely stood around in what Devoe
+called their "store clothes" and looked wonderfully wise. Some came to
+stay and took up quarters in the village, but the most merely tarried
+overnight, and, having unburdened themselves to Mills and Devoe of much
+advice, went away again, well pleased with their devotion to alma mater.
+
+The signals in use during the preliminary season had now been discarded
+in favor of the more complicated system prepared for the "big game."
+Each day there was half an hour of secret practise behind closed gates,
+after which the assistant coaches emerged looking very wise and very
+solemn. The make-up of the varsity eleven had changed not a little since
+the game with Woodby, and was still being changed. Some positions were,
+however, permanently filled. For instance, Browning had firmly
+established his right to play left-guard, while the deposed Carey found
+a rôle eminently suited to him at right tackle. Stowell became first
+choice for center, and the veteran Graham went over to the second team.
+Stone at left end, Tucker at left tackle, Devoe at right end, and Foster
+at quarter, were fixtures.
+
+The problem of finding a man for the position of left half in place of
+Neil had finally been solved by moving Paul over there from the other
+side and giving his place to Gillam, a last year substitute. Paul's
+style of play was very similar to Neil's. He was sure on his feet, a
+hard, fast runner, and his line-plunging was often brilliant and
+effective. The chief fault with him was that he was erratic. One day he
+played finely, the next so listlessly as to cause the coaches to shake
+their heads. His goal-kicking left something to be desired, but as yet
+he was as good in that line as any save Neil. Gillam, although light,
+was a hard line-bucker and a hurdler that was afraid of nothing. In fact
+he gave every indication of excelling Paul by the time the Robinson
+game arrived.
+
+One cause of Paul's uneven playing was the fact that he was worried
+about his studies. He was taking only the required courses, seven in
+all, making necessary an attendance of sixteen hours each week; but
+Greek and mathematics were stumbling-blocks, and he was in daily fear
+lest he find himself forbidden to play football. He knew well enough
+where the trouble lay; he simply didn't give enough time to study. But,
+somehow, what with the all-absorbing subject of making the varsity and
+the hundred and one things that took up his time, the hours remaining
+for "grinding" were all too few. He wondered how Neil, who seemed quite
+as busy as himself, managed to give so much time to books.
+
+In one of his weekly evening talks to the football men Mills had
+strongly counseled attention to study. There was no excuse, he had
+asserted, for any of the candidates shirking lessons.
+
+"On the contrary, the fact that you are in training, that you are living
+with proper regard for sleep, good food, fresh air, and plenty of hard
+physical work, should and does make you able to study better. In my
+experience, I am glad to say, I have known not one football captain who
+did not stand among the first few in his class; and that same experience
+has proved to me that, almost without exception, students who go in for
+athletics are the best scholars. Healthful exercise and sensible living
+go hand in hand with scholarly attainment. I don't mean to say that
+every successful student has been an athlete, but I do say that almost
+every athlete has been a successful student. And now that we understand
+each other in this matter, none of you need feel any surprise if, should
+you get into difficulties with the faculty over your studies, I refuse,
+as I shall, to intercede in your behalf. I want men to deal with who are
+honest, hard-working athletes, and honest, hard-working students. My own
+experience and that of other coachers with whom I have talked, proves
+that the brilliant football player or crew man who sacrifices class
+standing for his athletic work may do for a while, but in the end is a
+losing investment."
+
+And on top of that warning Paul had received one afternoon a printed
+postal card, filled in here and there with the pen, which was
+as follows:
+
+"Erskine College, _November 4, 1901_.
+
+"Mr. Paul Gale.
+
+"Dear Sir: You are requested to call on the Dean, Tuesday, November 5th,
+during the regular office hours.
+
+"Yours respectfully,
+
+"Ephraim Levett, _Dean_."
+
+Paul obeyed the mandate with sinking heart. When he left the office it
+was with a sensation of intense relief and with a resolve to apply
+himself so well to his studies as to keep himself and the Dean
+thereafter on the merest bowing acquaintance. And he was, thus far,
+living up to his resolution; but as less than a week had gone by,
+perhaps his self-gratulation was a trifle early. It may be that Cowan
+also was forced to confer with the Dean at about that time, for he too
+showed an unusual application to text-books, and as a result he and Paul
+saw each other less frequently.
+
+On November 6th, one week after Neil's accident and just two weeks prior
+to the Robinson game, Erskine played Arrowden, and defeated her 11-0.
+Neil, however, did not witness that contest, for, at the invitation of
+and in company with Devoe, he journeyed to Collegetown and watched
+Robinson play Artmouth. Devoe had rather a bad knee, and was nursing it
+against the game with Yale at New Haven the following Saturday. Two of
+the coaches were also of the party, and all were eager to get an inkling
+of the plays that Robinson was going to spring on Erskine. But Robinson
+was reticent. Perhaps her coaches discovered the presence of the Erskine
+emissaries. However that may have been, her team used ordinary
+formations instead of tackle-back, and displayed none of the tricks
+which rumor credited her with having up her sleeve. But the Erskine
+party saw enough, nevertheless, to persuade them one and all that the
+Purple need only expect defeat, unless some way of breaking up the
+tackle-back play was speedily discovered. Robinson's line was heavy, and
+composed almost altogether of last year material. Artmouth found it
+well-nigh impregnable, and Artmouth's backs were reckoned good men.
+
+"If we had three more men in our line as heavy and steady as Browning,
+Cowan, and Carey," said Devoe, "we might hope to get our backs through;
+but, as it is, they'll get the jump on us, I fear, and tear up our
+offense before it gets agoing."
+
+"The only course," answered one of the coaches, "is to get to work and
+put starch into the line as well as we can, and to perfect the backs at
+kicking and running. Luckily that close-formation has the merit of
+concealing the point of attack until it's under way, and it's just
+possible that we'll manage to fool them."
+
+And so Jones and Mills went to work with renewed vigor the next day. But
+the second team, playing tackle-back after the style of Robinson's
+warriors, was too much for any defense that the varsity could put up,
+and got its distance time after time. The coaches evolved and tried
+several plays designed to stop it, but none proved really successful.
+
+Neil returned to practise that afternoon, his right shoulder protected
+by a wonderful leather contrivance which was the cause of much
+good-natured fun. He didn't get near the line-up, however, but was
+allowed to take part in signal practise, and was then set to kicking
+goals from placement. If the reader will button his right arm inside his
+coat and try to kick a ball with accuracy he will gain some slight idea
+of the difficulty which embarrassed Neil. When work was over he felt as
+though he had been trying, he declared, to kick left-handed. But he met
+with enough success to demonstrate that, given opportunity for practise,
+one may eventually learn to kick goals minus anything except feet.
+
+That happened to be one of Paul's "off days," and the way he played
+exasperated the coaches and alarmed him. He could not hide from himself
+the evident fact that Gillam was outplaying him five days a week. With
+the return of Neil, Paul expected to be ousted from the position of left
+half, and the question that worried him was whether he would in turn
+displace Gillam or be sent back to the second eleven. He was safe,
+however, for several days more, for Simson still laughed at Neil's
+demand to be put into the line-up, and he was determined that before the
+Yale game he would prove himself superior to Gillam.
+
+The following morning, Friday, Mills was seated at the desk in his room
+making out a list of players who were to participate in the Robinson
+game. According to the agreement between the rival colleges such lists
+were required to be exchanged not later than two weeks prior to the
+contest. The players had been decided upon the evening before by all the
+coaches in assembly, and his task this morning was merely to recopy the
+list before him. He had almost completed the work when he heard strange
+sounds outside his door. Then followed a knock, and, in obedience to his
+request, Sydney Burr pushed open the door and swung himself in on
+his crutches.
+
+The boy's face was alight with eagerness, and his eyes sparkled with
+excitement; there was even a dash of color in his usually pale cheeks.
+Mills jumped up and wheeled forward an easy-chair. But Sydney paid no
+heed to it.
+
+"Mr. Mills," he cried exultantly, "I think I've got it!"
+
+"Got what?" asked the coach.
+
+"The play we want," answered Sydney, "the play that'll stop Robinson!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+AND TELLS OF A DREAM
+
+Mills's face lighted up, and he stretched forth an eager hand.
+
+"Good for you, Burr! Let's see it. Hold on, though; sit down here first
+and give me those sticks. There we are. Now fire ahead."
+
+"If you don't mind, I'd like to tell you all about it first, before I
+show you the diagram," said Sydney, his eyes dancing.
+
+"All right; let's hear it," replied the head coach smiling.
+
+"Well," began Sydney, "it's been a puzzler. After I'd seen the second
+playing tackle-back I about gave up hopes of ever finding a--an
+antidote."
+
+"'Antidote's' good," commented Mills laughingly.
+
+"I tried all sorts of notions," continued Sydney, "and spoiled whole
+reams of paper drawing diagrams. But it was all nonsense. I had the
+right idea, though, all the time; I realized that if that tandem was
+going to be stopped it would have to be stopped before it hit
+our line."
+
+Mills nodded.
+
+"I had the idea, as I say, but I couldn't apply it. And that's the way
+things stood last night when I went to bed. I had sat up until after
+eleven and had used up all the paper I had, and so when I got into bed I
+saw diagrams all over the place and had an awful time to get to sleep.
+But at last I did. And then I dreamed.
+
+"And in the dream I was playing football. That's the first time I ever
+played it, and I guess it'll be the last. I was all done up in sweaters
+and things until I couldn't do much more than move my arms and head. It
+seemed that we were in 9 Grace Hall, only there was grass instead of
+floor, and it was all marked out like a gridiron. And everybody was
+there, I guess; the President and the Dean, and you and Mr. Jones, and
+Mr. Preston and--and my mother. It was awfully funny about my mother.
+She kept sewing more sweaters on to me all the time, because, as she
+said, the more I had on the less likely I was to get hurt. And Devoe was
+there, and he was saying that it wasn't fair; that the football rules
+distinctly said that players should wear only one sweater. But nobody
+paid any attention to him. And after a bit, when I was so covered with
+sweaters that I was round, like a big ball, the Dean whistled and we got
+into line--that is," said Sydney doubtfully, "it was sort of like a
+line. There was the President and Neil Fletcher and I on one side, and
+all the others, at least thirty of them, on the other. It didn't seem
+quite fair, but I didn't like to object for fear they'd say I
+was afraid."
+
+"Well, you _did_ have the nightmare," said Mills. "Then what?"
+
+"The other side got into a bunch, and I knew they were playing
+tackle-back, although of course they weren't really; they just all stood
+together. And I didn't see any ball, either. Then some one yelled 'Smash
+'em up!' and they started for us. At that Neil--at least I think it was
+Neil--and Prexy--I mean the President--took hold of me, lifted me up
+like a bag of potatoes, and hurled me right at the other crowd. I went
+flying through the air, turning round and round and round, till I
+thought I'd never stop. Then there was an awful bump, I yelled 'Down!'
+at the top of my lungs--and woke up. I was on the floor."
+
+Mills laughed, and Sydney took breath.
+
+"At first I didn't know what had happened. Then I remembered the dream,
+and all on a sudden, like a flash of lightning, it occurred to me that
+_that_ was the way to stop tackle-back!"
+
+"That? What?" asked Mills, looking puzzled.
+
+"Why, the bag of potatoes act," laughed Sydney. "I jumped up, lighted
+the gas, got pencil and paper and went back to bed and worked it out.
+And here it is."
+
+He drew a carefully folded slip of paper from his pocket and handed it
+across to Mills. The diagram, just as the head coach received it, is
+reproduced here.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Mills studied it for a minute in silence; once he grunted; once he
+looked wonderingly up at Sydney. In the end he laid it beside him on
+the desk.
+
+"I think you've got it, Burr," he said quietly, "I think you've got it,
+my boy. If this works out the way it should, your nightmare will be the
+luckiest thing that's happened at Erskine for several years. Draw your
+chair up here--I beg your pardon; I forgot. I'll do the moving myself."
+He placed his own chair beside Sydney's and handed the diagram to
+him. "Now just go over this, will you; tell me just what your idea is."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Sydney, still excited over the night's happenings, drew a ready pencil
+from his pocket, and began rather breathlessly:
+
+"I've placed the Robinson players in the positions that our second team
+occupies for the tackle-tandem. Full-back, left tackle, and right half,
+one behind the other, back of their guard-tackle hole. Now, as the ball
+goes into play their tandem starts. Quarter passes the ball to tackle,
+or maybe right half, and they plunge through our line. That's what they
+would do if we couldn't stop them, isn't it?"
+
+"They would, indeed," answered Mills grimly. "About ten yards through
+our line!"
+
+"Well, now we place our left half in our line between our guard and
+tackle, and put our full-back behind him, making a tandem of our own.
+Quarter stands almost back of guard, and the other half over here. When
+the ball is put in play our tandem starts at a jump and hits the
+opposing tandem just at the moment their quarter passes the ball to
+their runner. In other words, we get through on to them before they can
+get under way. Our quarter and right half follow up, and, unless I'm
+away off on my calculations, that tackle-tandem is going to stop on its
+own side of the line."
+
+Sydney paused and awaited Mills's opinion. The latter was silent a
+moment. Then--
+
+"Of course," he said, "you've thought of what's going to happen to that
+left half?"
+
+"Yes," answered Sydney, "I have. He's going to get most horribly banged
+up. But he's going to stop the play."
+
+"Yes, I think he is--if he lives," said Mills with a grim smile. "The
+only objection that occurs to me this moment is this: Have we the right
+to place any player in a position like this where the punishment is
+certain to be terrific, if not absolutely dangerous?"
+
+"I've thought of that, too," answered Sydney readily. "And I don't
+believe we--er--you have."
+
+"Well, then I think our play's dished at the start."
+
+"Why, not a bit, sir. Call the players up, explain the thing to them,
+and tell them you want a man for that position."
+
+"Ah, ask for volunteers, eh?"
+
+"Yes, sir. And you'll have just as many, I'll bet, as there are men!"
+
+Mills smiled.
+
+"Well, it's a desperate remedy, but I believe it's the only one, and
+we'll see what can be done. By the way, I observe that you've taken left
+half for the victim?"
+
+"Yes, sir; that's Neil Fletcher. He's the fellow for it, I think."
+
+"But I thought he was a friend of yours," laughed Mills.
+
+"So he is; that's why I want him to get it; he won't ask anything
+better. And he's got the weight and the speed. The fellow that
+undertakes it has got to be mighty quick, and he's got to have weight
+and plenty of grit. And that's Neil."
+
+"Yes, I think so too. But I don't want him to get used up and not be
+able to kick, for we'll need a field-goal before the game is over, if
+I'm not greatly mistaken. However, we can find a man for that place,
+I've no doubt. For that matter, we must find two at least, for one will
+never last the game through."
+
+"I suppose not. I--I wish I had a chance at it," said Sydney longingly.
+
+"I wish you had," said Mills. "I think you'd stand all the punishment
+Robinson would give you. But don't feel badly that you can't play; as
+long as you can teach the rest of us the game you've got honor enough."
+
+Sydney flushed with pleasure, and Mills took up the diagram again.
+
+"Guard and tackle will have their work cut out for them," he said. "And
+I'm not sure that left end can't be brought into it, too. There's one
+good feature about Robinson's formation, and that is we can imagine
+where it's coming as long as it's a tandem. If we stop them they'll have
+to try the ends, and I don't think they'll make much there. Well, we'll
+give this a try to-morrow, and see how it works. By the way, Burr," he
+went on, "you can get about pretty well on your crutches, can't you?"
+
+"Yes," Sydney answered.
+
+"Good. Then what's to prevent you from coming out to the field in the
+afternoons and giving us a hand with this? Do you think you could afford
+the time?"
+
+Sydney's eyes dropped; he didn't want Mills to see how near the tears
+were to his eyes.
+
+"I can afford the time all right," he answered in a voice that, despite
+his efforts, was not quite steady, "if you really think I can be of
+any use."
+
+Perhaps Mills guessed the other's pleasure, for he smiled gently as he
+answered:
+
+"I don't think; I'm certain. You know this play better than I do; it's
+yours; you know how you want it to go. You come out and look after the
+play; we'll attend to the players. And then, if we find a weak place in
+it, we can all get together and remedy it. But you oughtn't to try and
+wheel yourself out there and back every day. You tell me what time you
+can be ready each afternoon and I'll see that there's a buggy
+waiting for you."
+
+"Oh, no, really!" Sydney protested. "I'd rather not! I can get to the
+field and back easily, without getting at all tired; in fact, I need the
+exercise."
+
+"Well, if you're certain of that," answered the coach. "But any time
+you change your mind, or the weather's bad, let me know. If you can, I'd
+like you to come around here again this evening. I'll have Devoe and the
+coaches here, and we'll talk this--this 'antidote' over again.
+Well, good-by."
+
+Sydney swung himself to the door, followed by Mills, and got into his
+tricycle.
+
+"About eight this evening, if you can make it, Burr," said Mills.
+"Good-by." He stood at the door and watched the other as he trundled
+slowly down the street.
+
+"Poor chap!" he muttered. And then: "Still, I'm not so sure that he's an
+object of pity. If he hasn't any legs worth mentioning, the Almighty
+made it up to him by giving him a whole lot of brains. If he can't get
+about like the rest of us he's a great deal more contented, I believe,
+and if he can't play football he can show others how to. And," he added,
+as he returned to his desk, "unless I'm mistaken, he's done it to-day.
+Now to mail this list and then for the 'antidote'!"
+
+That night in Mills's room the assembled coaches and captain talked over
+Sydney's play, discussed it from start to finish, objected, explained,
+argued, tore it to pieces and put it together again, and in the end
+indorsed it. And Sydney, silent save when called on for an explanation
+of some feature of his discovery, sat with his crutches beside his chair
+and listened to many complimentary remarks; and at ten o'clock went back
+to Walton and bed, only to lie awake until long after the town-clock
+had struck midnight, excited and happy.
+
+Had you been at Erskine at any time during the following two weeks and
+had managed to get behind the fence, you would have witnessed a very
+busy scene. Day after day the varsity and the second fought like the
+bitterest enemies; day after day the little army of coaches shouted and
+fumed, pleaded and scolded; and day after day a youth on crutches
+followed the struggling, panting lines, instructing and criticizing, and
+happier than he had been at any time in his memory.
+
+For the "antidote," as they had come to call it, had been tried and had
+vindicated its inventor's faith in it. Every afternoon the second team
+hammered the varsity line with the tackle-tandem, and almost every time
+the varsity stopped it and piled it up in confusion. The call for
+volunteers for the thankless position at the front of the little tandem
+of two had resulted just as Sydney had predicted. Every candidate for
+varsity honors had begged for it, and some half dozen or more had been
+tried. But in the end the choice had narrowed down to Neil, Paul,
+Gillam, and Mason, and these it was that day after day bore the brunt of
+the attack, emerging from each pile-up beaten, breathless, scarred, but
+happy and triumphant. Two weeks is short time in which to teach a new
+play, but Mills and the others went bravely and confidently to work, and
+it seemed that success was to justify the attempt; for three days
+before the Robinson game the varsity had at last attained perfection in
+the new play, and the coaches dared at last to hope for victory.
+
+But meanwhile other things, pleasant and unpleasant, had happened, and
+we must return to the day which had witnessed the inception of Sydney
+Burr's "antidote."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+ROBINSON SENDS A PROTEST
+
+When Sydney left Mills that morning he trundled himself along Elm Street
+to Neil's lodgings in the hope of finding that youth and telling him of
+his good fortune. But the windows of the first floor front study were
+wide open, the curtains were hanging out over the sills, and from within
+came the sound of the broom and clouds of dust. Sydney turned his
+tricycle about in disappointment and retraced his path, through Elm
+Lane, by the court-house with its tall white pillars and green shutters,
+across Washington Street, the wheels of his vehicle rustling through the
+drifts of dead leaves that lined the sidewalks, and so back to Walton.
+He had a recitation at half-past ten, but there was still twenty minutes
+of leisure according to the dingy-faced clock on the tower of College
+Hall. So he left the tricycle by the steps, and putting his crutches
+under his arms, swung himself into the building and down the corridor to
+his study. The door was ajar and he thrust it open with his foot.
+
+"Please be careful of the paint," expostulated a voice, and Sydney
+paused in surprise.
+
+"Well," he said; "I've just been over to your room looking for you."
+
+"Have you? Sorry I wasn't--Say, Syd, listen to this." Neil dragged a
+pillow into a more comfortable place and sat up. He had been stretched
+at full length on the big window-seat. "Here it is in a nutshell," he
+continued, waving the paper he was reading.
+
+ "'First a signal, then a thud,
+ And your face is in the mud.
+ Some one jumps upon your back,
+ And your ribs begin to crack.
+ Hear a whistle. "Down!" That's all.
+ 'Tis the way to play football.'"
+
+"Pretty good, eh? Hello, what's up? Your face looks as bright as though
+you'd polished it. How dare you allow your countenance to express joy
+when in another quarter of an hour I shall be struggling over my head in
+the history of Rome during the second Punic War? But there, go ahead;
+unbosom yourself. I can see you're bubbling over with delightful news.
+Have they decided to abolish the Latin language? Or has the faculty been
+kidnaped? Have they changed their minds and decided to take me with 'em
+to New Haven to-morrow? Come, little Bright Eyes, out with it!"
+
+Sydney told his good news, not without numerous eager interruptions from
+Neil, and when he had ended the latter executed what he called a "Punic
+war-dance." It was rather a striking performance, quite stately and
+impressive, for when one's left shoulder is made immovable by much
+bandaging it is difficult, as Neil breathlessly explained, to display
+_abandon_--the latter spoken through the nose to give it the correct
+French pronunciation.
+
+"And, if you're not good to me," laughed Sydney, "I'll get back at you
+in practise. And I'm to be treated with respect, also, Neil; in fact, I
+believe you had better remove your cap when you see me."
+
+"All right, old man; cap--sweater--anything! You shall be treated with
+the utmost deference. But seriously, Syd, I'm awfully glad. Glad all
+around; glad you've made a hit with the play, and glad you've found
+something to beat Robinson with. Now tell me again about it; where do I
+come in on it?"
+
+And so Sydney drew a chair up to the table and drew more diagrams of the
+new play, and Neil looked on with great interest until the bell struck
+the half-hour, and they hurried away to recitations.
+
+The next day the varsity and substitutes went to New Haven. Neil wasn't
+taken along, and so when the result of the game reached the
+college--Yale 40, Erskine 0--he was enabled to tell Sydney that it was
+insanity for Mills and Devoe to expect to do anything without his
+(Neil's) services.
+
+"If they will leave me behind, Syd, what can they hope for save rout and
+disaster? Of course, I realize that I could not have played, but my
+presence on the side-line would have inspired them and have been very,
+very helpful. I'm sure the score would have been quite different, Syd."
+
+"Yes," laughed the other; "say fifty to nothing."
+
+"Your levity and disrespect pains me," mourned Neil.
+
+But despite the overwhelming nature of the defeat, Mills and Devoe and
+the associate coaches found much to encourage them. No attempt had been
+made to try the new defensive play, but Erskine had managed to make her
+distance several times. The line had proved steady and had borne the
+severe battering of the Yale backs without serious injury. The Purple's
+back-field had played well; Paul had been in his best form, Gillam had
+gained ground quite often through Yale's wings, and Mason, at full-back,
+had fought nobly. The ends had proved themselves quick and speedy in
+getting down under punts, and several of the Blue's tries around end had
+been nipped ingloriously in the bud. But, when all was said, the
+principal honors of the contest had fallen to Ted Foster, Erskine's
+plucky quarter, whose handling of the team had been wonderful, and
+whose catching and running back of punts had more than once turned the
+tide of battle. On the whole, Erskine had put up a good, fast,
+well-balanced game; had displayed plenty of grit, had shown herself well
+advanced in team-play, and had emerged practically unscathed from a
+hard-fought contest.
+
+On Monday Neil went into the line-up for a few minutes, displacing Paul
+at left-half, but did not form one of the heroic tandem. His shoulder
+bothered him a good deal for the first minute or two, but after he had
+warmed up to the work he forgot about it and banged it around so that
+Simson was obliged to remonstrate and threaten to take him out. On the
+second's twenty yards Neil was given a chance at a goal from placement,
+and, in spite of his right shoulder, and to the delight of the coaches,
+sent the leather over the bar. When he turned and trotted back up the
+field he almost ran over Sydney, who was hobbling blithely about the
+gridiron on his crutches.
+
+"Whoa!" cried Neil. "Back up! Hello, Board of Strategy; how do you find
+yourself?"
+
+"That was fine, Neil," said Sydney.
+
+"What?"
+
+"That goal."
+
+"Glad you liked it. I was beastly nervous," he laughed. "Had no idea I
+could do it. It's so different trying goals in a game; when you're just
+off practising it doesn't seem to bother you."
+
+"Oh, you'll do. Gale is growling like a bear because they took him out."
+
+"Is he?" asked Neil. "I'm sorry. Do you know whether he stands a good
+show for the game? Have you heard Mills or Devoe say anything about it?"
+Sydney shook his head.
+
+"I'm afraid Gillam's got us both boxed," continued Neil. "As for me, I
+suppose they'll let me in because I can sometimes kick a goal, but I'm
+worried about Paul. If he'd only--Farewell, they are lining up again."
+
+"I don't believe Gale will get into the Robinson game," thought Sydney
+as he took himself toward the side-line. "He seems a good player,
+but--but you never can tell what he's going to do; half the time he just
+sort of slops around and looks as though he was doing a favor by
+playing. I can't see why Neil likes him so well; I suppose it's because
+he's so different. Maybe he's a better sort when you know him
+real well."
+
+After practise was ended and the riotous half-hour in the locker-house
+was over, Neil found himself walking back to the campus with Sydney and
+Paul. Paul entertained a half-contemptuous liking for Sydney. To Neil he
+called him "the crip," but when in Sydney's presence was careful never
+to say anything to wound the boy's feelings--an act of consideration
+rather remarkable for Paul, who, while really kind at heart, was
+oftentimes careless about the sensibilities of others. This afternoon
+Paul was evidently downcast, too downcast to be even cross.
+
+"Well, I guess it's all up with me," he said as they passed through the
+gate and started down Williams Street toward college. "I'm glad you're
+back, chum, but I can see my finish."
+
+"Nonsense," said Neil, "you'll be back to-morrow. Gillam is putting up a
+star game, and that's a fact; but your weight will help you, and if you
+buckle down for the next few days you'll make it all right."
+
+But Paul refused to be comforted and remained silent and gloomy all the
+way home. Knowing how Paul had set his heart upon making the varsity for
+the Robinson game, Neil began to be rather worried himself. He felt,
+unnecessarily of course, in a measure responsible for the crowning of
+his friend's ambition. When he had prevailed on Paul to relinquish the
+idea of going to Robinson, he had derided the possibility of Paul
+failing to make the Erskine team; and now that possibility was rapidly
+assuming the appearance of a probability. Certainly the fault was
+Paul's, and not his; but the thought contained small comfort.
+
+Next day's practise, in preparation for Erskine's last game before the
+Robinson contest, proved Paul's fears far from groundless. Gillam, Neil,
+and Mason started work when the line-up was formed, and Paul looked on
+heart-brokenly from the bench. It was not until Neil had failed twice
+and succeeded once at field-goals, and Gillam had been well hammered by
+the second's tandem plays, that Paul secured a chance. Then Neil was
+taken out and his friend put in.
+
+Neil wrapped a frayed gray blanket about his shoulders and reflected
+ruefully upon events. He knew that he had played poorly; that he had
+twice tied up the play by allowing his thoughts to wander; that his
+end-running had been slow, almost listless, and that his performance at
+goal-kicking had been miserable. He had missed two tries from placement,
+one on the twenty yards and another on the twenty-seven, and had only
+succeeded at a drop-kick by the barest of margins. He couldn't even lay
+the blame on his injured shoulder, for that was no longer a factor in
+his playing; the bandages were off and only a leather pad remained to
+remind him of the incident. No, he had simply worried his stupid head
+over Paul's troubles, he told himself, and had thereby disappointed the
+coaches, the captain, and himself. Simson found him presently and sent
+him trotting about the field, an exercise that worked some of his gloom
+off and left him in a fairly cheerful frame of mind when he ran up the
+locker-house steps.
+
+But at dinner he found that his appetite had almost deserted him. Simson
+observed him gravely, and after the meal was over questioned closely.
+Neil answered rather irritably, and the trainer's uneasiness increased;
+but he only said:
+
+"Go to bed early to-night and lay off to-morrow. You'll be better by
+Monday. And you might take a walk to-morrow afternoon; go off into the
+country somewhere; see if you can't find some one to go with you. How's
+the shoulder? No trouble there, is there?"
+
+"No, there's no trouble anywhere; I just wasn't hungry."
+
+"Well, you do what I've told you and you'll get your appetite back, my
+boy."
+
+Neil turned away frowning and took himself to his lodging, feeling angry
+with Simson because he was going to keep him off the field, and angry
+with himself because--oh, just because he was.
+
+But Neil was not the only person concerned with Erskine athletics who
+was out of sorts that night. A general air of gloom had pervaded the
+dinner-table. Mills had been even silenter than usual; the three other
+coaches present had been plainly worried, and Simson, in spite of his
+attempts to keep the conversation cheerful, had showed that he too was
+bothered about something. A bomb-shell had landed in the Erskine camp
+and had exploded in Mills's quarters.
+
+On the front steps Neil met Cowan. The two always nodded to each other,
+but to-night Neil's curt salutation went unheeded. Cowan, with troubled
+face, hurried by him and went up the street toward Mills's rooms.
+
+"Every one's grouchy to-night," muttered Neil. "Even Cowan looks as
+though he was going to be shot."
+
+Meanwhile the athletic authorities of Erskine and the coaches were met
+in extraordinary session. They were considering a letter which had
+arrived that afternoon from Collegetown. In the letter Robinson
+announced her protest of Thomas L. Cowan, right-guard on the Erskine
+football team, on the score of professionalism.
+
+"It just means," wailed Foster, who had brought the tidings to Neil and
+Paul, "that it's all over with us. I don't know what Cowan has to say,
+but I'll bet a--I'll bet my new typewriter!--that Robinson's right. And
+with Cowan gone from right-guard, where are we? We haven't the ghost of
+a show. The only fellow they can play in his place is Witter, and he's a
+pygmy. Not that Witter doesn't know the position, for he does; but he's
+too light. Was there ever such luck? What good is Burr's patent,
+double-action, self-inking, cylindrical, switch-back defense if we
+haven't got a line that will hold together long enough for us to get off
+our toes? It--it's rotten luck, that's what it is."
+
+And the varsity quarter-back groaned dolorously.
+
+"But what does Cowan say?" asked Neil.
+
+"Don't ask me," said Foster. "I don't know what he says, and I don't
+believe it will matter. He's got professional written all over
+his face."
+
+"But he played last year," said Paul. "Why didn't they protest him
+then?"
+
+"I'll pass again," answered Foster. "Maybe they hadn't discovered
+it--whatever it is--then; maybe--"
+
+"Listen!" said Neil.
+
+Some one stamped up the steps and entered the front door. Foster looked
+questioningly at Neil.
+
+"Cowan?" he whispered. Neil nodded.
+
+Foster sprang to the study door and threw it open. The light from the
+room fell on the white and angry countenance of the right-guard.
+
+"Cowan," said Foster, "for heaven's sake, man, tell us about it! Is it
+all right?"
+
+But Tom Cowan only glared as he passed on up the stairs.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+A PLAN AND A CONFESSION
+
+Robinson's protest set forth succinctly that Cowan had, three years
+previous, played left tackle on the football team of a certain
+academy--whose right to the title of academy was often questioned--and
+had received money for his services. Dates and other particulars were
+liberally supplied, and the name and address of the captain of the team
+were given. Altogether, the letter was discouragingly convincing, and
+neither the coaches, the captain, nor the athletic officers really
+doubted the truth of the charge.
+
+Professor Nast, the chairman of the Athletic Committee, blinked gravely
+through his glasses and looked about the room.
+
+"You've sent for Mr. Cowan?" he asked.
+
+"Yes," Mills answered; "he ought to be here in a minute. How in the
+world was he allowed to get on to the team?"
+
+"Well, his record was gone over, as we believed, very thoroughly year
+before last," said Professor Nast; "and we found nothing against him. I
+think--ah--it seems probable that he unintentionally misled us. Perhaps
+he can--ah--explain."
+
+When, however, Cowan faced the group of grave-faced men it was soon
+evident that explanations were far from his thoughts. He had heard
+enough before the summons reached him to enable him to surmise what
+awaited him, and when Professor Nast explained their purpose in calling
+him before them, Cowan only displayed what purported to be honest
+indignation. He stormed violently against the Robinson authorities and
+defied them to prove their charge. Mills listened a while impatiently
+and then interrupted him abruptly.
+
+"Do you deny the charge, Cowan, or don't you?" he asked.
+
+"I refuse to reply to it," answered Cowan angrily. "Let them think what
+they want to; I'm not responsible to them. It's all revenge, nothing
+else. They tried to get me to go to them last September; offered me free
+coaching, and guaranteed me a position on the team. I refused. And
+here's the result."
+
+Professor Nast brightened and a few of those present looked relieved.
+But Mills refused to be touched by Cowan's righteousness, and asked
+brusquely:
+
+"Never mind what their motive is, Cowan. What we want to know is this:
+Did you or did you not accept money for playing left tackle on that
+team? Let us have an answer to that, please."
+
+"It's absurd," said Cowan hotly. "Why, I only played three games--"
+
+"Yes or no, please," said Mills.
+
+For an instant Cowan's gaze faltered. He glanced swiftly about the room
+and read only doubt or antagonism in the faces there. He shrugged his
+broad shoulders and replied sneeringly:
+
+"What's the good? You're all down on me now; you wouldn't believe me if
+I told you."
+
+"We're not all down on you," answered Mills. Professor Nast interrupted.
+
+"One moment, Mr. Mills. I don't think Mr. Cowan understands the--ah--the
+position we are in. Unless you can show to our satisfaction that the
+charge is untrue, Mr. Cowan, we shall be obliged, under the terms of our
+agreement with Robinson, to consider you ineligible. In that case, you
+could not, of course, play against Robinson; in fact, you would not be
+admitted to any branch of university athletics. Now, don't you think
+that the best course for you to follow is to make a straightforward
+explanation of your connection with the academy in question? We are not
+here to judge the--ah--ethics of your course; only to decide as to
+whether or no you are eligible to represent the college in athletics."
+
+Cowan arose from his seat and with trembling fingers buttoned his
+overcoat. His brow was black, but when he spoke, facing the head coach
+and heedless of the rest, he appeared quite cool.
+
+"Ever since practise began," he said, "you have been down on me and have
+done everything you could to get rid of me. No matter what I did, it
+wasn't right. Whether I'm eligible or ineligible, I'm done with you now.
+You may fill my place--if you can; I'm out of it. You'll probably be
+beaten; but that's your affair. If you are, I sha'n't weep over it."
+
+He walked to the door and opened it.
+
+"It's understood, I guess, that I've resigned from the team?" he asked,
+facing Mills once more.
+
+"Quite," said the latter dryly.
+
+"All right. And now I don't mind telling you that I did get paid for
+playing with that team. I played three games and took money every time.
+It isn't a crime and I'm not ashamed of it, although to hear you talk
+you'd think I'd committed murder. Good-night, gentlemen."
+
+He passed out. Professor Nast blinked nervously.
+
+"Dear me," he murmured, "dear me, how unpleasant!"
+
+Mills smiled grimly, and, rising, stretched his limbs.
+
+"I think what we have left to do won't take very long. I hardly think
+that it is necessary for me to reply to the accusations brought by the
+gentleman who has just left us."
+
+"No, let's hear no more of it," said Preston. "I propose that we reply
+to Robinson to-night and have an end of the business. To-morrow we'll
+have plenty to think of without this," he added grimly.
+
+The reply was written and forwarded the next day to Robinson, and the
+following announcement was given out at Erskine:
+
+ The Athletic Committee has decided that Cowan is not eligible
+ to represent the college in the football game with Robinson,
+ and he has been withdrawn. A protest was received from the
+ Robinson athletic authorities yesterday afternoon, and an
+ investigation was at once made with the result stated. The
+ loss of Cowan will greatly weaken the team, it is feared, but
+ that fact has not been allowed to influence the committee.
+ The decision is heartily concurred in by the coaches, the
+ captain, and all officials, and, being in line with Erskine's
+ policy of purity in athletics, should have the instant
+ indorsement of the student body.
+
+ H.W. NAST, _Chairman_.
+
+The announcement, as was natural, brought consternation, and for several
+days the football situation was steeped in gloom. Witter and Hurst were
+seized upon by the coaches and drilled in the tactics of right-guard. As
+Foster had said, Witter, while he was a good player, was light for the
+position. Hurst, against whom no objection could be brought on the
+ground of weight, lacked experience. In the end Witter proved first
+choice, and Hurst was comforted with the knowledge that he was
+practically certain to get into the game before the whistle sounded for
+the last time.
+
+Meanwhile Artmouth came and saw and conquered to the tune of 6-0,
+profiting by the news of Cowan's withdrawal and piling their backs
+through Witter, Hurst, and Brown, all of whom took turns at right-guard.
+The game was not encouraging from the Erskine point of view, and the
+gloom deepened. Foster declared that it was so thick during the last
+half of the contest that he couldn't see the backs. Neil saw the game
+from the bench, and Paul, once more at left-half, played an excellent
+game; but, try as he might, could not outdo Gillam. When it was over
+Neil declared the honors even, but Paul took a less optimistic view and
+would not be comforted.
+
+All the evening, save for a short period when he went upstairs to
+sympathize with Cowan, he bewailed his fate into Neil's ears. The latter
+tried his best to comfort him, and predicted that on Monday Paul would
+find himself in Gillam's place. But he scarcely believed it himself, and
+so his prophecies were not convincing.
+
+"What's the good of being decent?" asked Paul dolefully. "I wish I'd
+gone to Robinson."
+
+"No, you don't," said Neil. "You'd rather sit on the side-line at
+Erskine than play with a lot of hired sluggers."
+
+"Much you know about it," Paul growled. "If I don't get into the
+Robinson game I'll--I'll leave college."
+
+"But what good would that do?" asked Neil.
+
+"I'd go somewhere where I'd stand a show. I'd go to Robinson or one of
+the smaller places."
+
+"I don't think you'd do anything as idiotic as that," answered Neil.
+"It'll be hard luck if you miss the big game, but you've got three more
+years yet. What's one? You're certain to stand the best kind of a show
+next year."
+
+"I don't see how. Gillam doesn't graduate until 1903."
+
+"But you can beat him out for the place next year. All you need is more
+experience. Gillam's been at it two years here. Besides, it would be
+silly to leave a good college just because you couldn't play on the
+football team. Don't be like Cowan and think football's the only thing a
+chap comes here for."
+
+"They've used him pretty shabbily," said Paul.
+
+"That's what Cowan thinks. I don't see how they could do anything else."
+
+"He's awfully cut up. I'm downright sorry for him. He says he's going to
+pack up and leave."
+
+"And he's been trying to make you do the same, eh?" asked Neil. "Well,
+you tell him I'm very well satisfied with Erskine and haven't the least
+desire to change."
+
+"You?" asked Paul.
+
+"Certainly. We hang together, don't we?"
+
+Paul grinned.
+
+"You're a good chap, chum," he said gratefully. "But--" relapsing again
+into gloom--"you're not losing your place on the team, and you don't
+know how it feels. When a fellow's set his heart on it--"
+
+"I think I do know," answered Neil. "I know how I felt when my shoulder
+went wrong and I thought I was off for good and all. I didn't like it.
+But cheer up, Paul, and give 'em fits Monday. Slam 'round, let yourself
+loose; show 'em what you can do. Down with Gillam!"
+
+"Oh, I dare say," muttered Paul dejectedly.
+
+Neil laid awake a long time that night; he was full of sympathy for his
+room-mate. With him friendship meant more than it does to the average
+boy of nineteen, and he was ready and eager to do anything in his power
+that would insure Paul's getting into the Robinson game. The trouble was
+that he could think of nothing, although he lay staring into the
+darkness, thinking and thinking, until Paul had been snoring comfortably
+across the room for more than an hour.
+
+The next afternoon, Sunday, Neil, obeying the trainer's instructions,
+went for a walk. Paul begged off from accompanying him, and Neil sought
+Sydney. That youth was delighted to go, and so, Neil alternately pushing
+the tricycle and walking beside it while Sydney propelled it himself,
+the two followed the river for several miles into the country. The
+afternoon was cold but bright, and being outdoors was a pleasure to any
+healthy person. Neil forgot some of his worries and remembered that,
+after all, he was still a boy; that football is not the chief thing in
+college life, and that ten years hence it would matter little to him
+whether he played for his university against her rival or looked on from
+the bench. And it was that thought that suggested to him a means of
+sparing Paul the bitter disappointment that he dreaded.
+
+The plan seemed both simple and feasible, and he wondered why he had not
+thought of it before. To be sure, it involved the sacrificing of an
+ambition of his own; but to-day, out here among the pines and beeches,
+with the clear blue sky overhead and the eager breeze bringing the color
+to his cheeks, the sacrifice seemed paltry and scarcely a sacrifice at
+all. He smiled to himself, glad to have found the solution of Paul's
+trouble, which was also his own; but suddenly it occurred to him that
+perhaps he had no right to do what he contemplated. The ethics were
+puzzling, and presently he turned to Sydney, who had been silently and
+contentedly wheeling himself along across the road, and sought
+his counsel.
+
+"Look here, Syd, you're a level-headed sort of chump. Give me your
+valuable opinion on this, will you? Now--it's a supposititious case, you
+know--here are two fellows, A and B, each trying for the
+same--er--prize. Now, supposing A has just about reached it and B has
+fallen behind; and supposing I--"
+
+"Eh?" asked Sydney.
+
+"Yes, I meant A. Supposing A knows that B is just as deserving of the
+prize as he is, and that--that he'll make equally as good use of it. Do
+you follow, Syd?"
+
+"Y--yes, I think so," answered the other doubtfully.
+
+"Well, now, the question I want your opinion on is this: Wouldn't it be
+perfectly fair for A to--well, slip a cog or two, you know--"
+
+"Slip a cog?" queried Sydney, puzzled.
+
+"Yes; that is," explained Neil, "play off a bit, but not enough for any
+of the fellows to suspect, and so let B get the plum?"
+
+"Well," answered Sydney, after a moment's consideration, "it sounds fair
+enough--"
+
+"That's what I think," said Neil eagerly.
+
+"But maybe A and B are not the only ones interested. How about the
+conditions of the contest? Don't they require that each man shall do his
+best? Isn't it intended that the prize shall go to the one who really
+is the best?"
+
+"Oh, well, in a manner, maybe," answered Neil. He was silent a moment.
+The ethics was more puzzling than ever. Then: "Of course, it's only a
+supposititious case, you understand, Syd," he assured him earnestly.
+
+"Oh, of course," answered the other readily. "Hadn't we better turn
+here?"
+
+The journey back was rather silent. Neil was struggling with his
+problem, and Sydney, too, seemed to have something on his mind. When the
+town came once more into view around a bend in the road Sydney
+interrupted Neil's thoughts.
+
+"Say, Neil, I've got a--a confession to make." His cheeks were very red
+and he looked extremely embarrassed. Neil viewed him in surprise.
+
+"A confession? You haven't murdered the Dean, have you?"
+
+"No. It--it's something rather different. I don't believe that it will
+make any difference in our--our friendship, but--it might."
+
+"It won't," said Neil. "Now, fire ahead."
+
+"Well, you recollect the day you found me on the way from the field and
+pushed me back to college?"
+
+"Of course. Your old ice-wagon had broken down and I--"
+
+"That's it," interrupted Sydney, with a little embarrassed laugh. "It
+hadn't."
+
+"What hadn't? Hadn't what?"
+
+"The machine; it hadn't broken down."
+
+"But I saw it," exclaimed Neil. "What do you mean, Syd?"
+
+"I mean that it hadn't really broken down, Neil. I--the truth is I had
+pried one of the links up with a screw-driver."
+
+Neil stared in a puzzled way.
+
+"But--what for?" he asked.
+
+"Don't you understand?" asked Sydney, shame-faced. "Because I wanted to
+know you, and I thought if you found me there with my machine busted
+you'd try to fix it; and I'd make your acquaintance. It--it was awfully
+dishonest, I know," muttered Sydney at the last.
+
+Neil stared for a moment in surprise. Then he clapped the other on the
+shoulder and laughed uproariously.
+
+"Oh, to think of guileless little Syd being so foxy!" he cried. "I
+wouldn't have believed it if any one else had told me, Syd."
+
+"Well," said Sydney, very red in the face, but joining in the laughter,
+"you don't mind?"
+
+"Mind?" echoed Neil, becoming serious again, "why of course I don't.
+What is there to mind, Syd? I'm glad you did it, awfully glad." He laid
+his arm over the shoulders of the lad on the seat. "Here, let me push a
+while. Queer you should have cared that much about knowing me; but--but
+I'm glad." Suddenly his laughter returned.
+
+"No wonder that old fossil in the village thought it was a queer sort of
+a break," he shouted. "He knew what he was talking about after all when
+he suggested cold-chisels, didn't he?"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+NEIL IS TAKEN OUT
+
+The Tuesday before the final contest dawned raw and wet. The elms in the
+yard _drip-dripped_ from every leafless twig and a fine mist covered
+everything with tiny beads of moisture. The road to the field, trampled
+by many feet, was soft and slippery. Sydney, almost hidden beneath
+rain-coat and oil-skin hat, found traveling hard work. Ahead of him
+marched five hundred students, marshaled by classes, a little army of
+bobbing heads and flapping mackintoshes, alternately cheering and
+singing. Dana, the senior-class president, strode at the head of the
+line and issued his commands through a big purple megaphone.
+
+Erskine was marching out to the field to cheer the eleven and to
+practise the songs that were to be chanted defiantly at the game. Sydney
+had started with his class, but had soon been left behind, the rubber
+tires of the machine slipping badly in the mud. Presently the head of
+the procession, but dimly visible to him through the mist, turned in at
+the gate, the monster flag of royal purple, with its big white E,
+drooping wet and forlorn on its staff. They were cheering again now, and
+Sydney whispered an accompaniment behind the collar of his coat:
+
+"Erskine! Erskine! Erskine! Rah-rah-rah, rah-rah-rah, rah-rah-rah!
+Erskine! Erskine! Erskine!"
+
+Suddenly footsteps sounded behind him and the tricycle went forward
+apparently of its own volition. Sydney turned quickly and saw Mills's
+blue eyes twinkling down at him.
+
+"Did I surprise you?" laughed the coach.
+
+"Yes, I thought my wheel had suddenly turned into an automobile."
+
+"Hard work for you, I'm afraid. You should have let me send a trap for
+you," said Mills. "Never mind those handles. Put your hands in your
+pockets and I'll get you there in no time. What a beast of a day,
+isn't it?"
+
+"Y--yes," answered Sydney, "I suppose it is. But I rather like it."
+
+"Like it? Great Scott! Why?"
+
+"Well, the mist feels good on your face, don't you think so? And the
+trees down there along the railroad look so gray and soft. I don't know,
+but there's something about this sort of a day that makes me feel good."
+
+"Well, every one to his taste," Mills replied. "By the way, here's
+something I cut out of the Robinson Argus; thought you'd like to see
+it." He drew a clipping from a pocketbook and gave it to Sydney, who,
+shielding it from the wet, read as follows:
+
+ Erskine, we hear, is crowing over a wonderful new play which
+ she thinks she has invented, and with which she expects to
+ get even for what happened last year. We have not seen the
+ new marvel, of course, but we understand that it is called a
+ "close formation." It is safe to say that it is an old play
+ revamped by Erskine's head coach, Mills. Last year Mills
+ discovered a form of guards-back which was heralded to the
+ four corners of the earth as the greatest play ever seen.
+ What happened to it is still within memory. Consequently we
+ are not greatly alarmed over the latest production of his
+ fertile brain. Robinson can, we think, find a means of
+ solving any puzzle that Erskine can put together.
+
+"They're rather hard on you," laughed Sydney as he returned the
+clipping.
+
+"I can stand it. I'm glad they haven't discovered that we are busy with
+a defense for their tackle-tandem. If we can keep that a secret for a
+few days longer I shall be satisfied."
+
+"I do hope it will come up to expectations," said Sydney doubtfully.
+"Now that the final test is drawing near I'm beginning to fear that
+maybe we--maybe we're too hopeful."
+
+"I know," answered Mills. "It's always that way. When I first began
+coaching I used to get into a regular blue funk every year just before
+the big game; used to think that everything was going wrong, and was
+firmly convinced until the whistle sounded that we were going to be torn
+to pieces and scattered to the winds. It's just nerves; you get used to
+it after a while. As for the new defense for tackle-tandem, it's all
+right. Maybe it won't stop Robinson altogether, but it's the best thing
+that a light team can put up against a heavy one playing Robinson's
+game; and I think that it's going to surprise her and worry her quite a
+lot. Whether it will keep her from scoring on the tackle play remains to
+be seen. That's a good deal to hope for. If we'd been able to try the
+play in a game with another college we would know more about what we can
+do with it. As it is, we only know that it will stop the second and that
+theoretically it is all right. We'll be wiser on the 23d.
+
+"Frankly, though, Burr," he continued, "as a play I don't like it. That
+is, I consider it too hard on the men; there's too much brute force and
+not enough science and skill about it; in fact, it isn't football. But
+as long as guards-back and tackle-back formations are allowed it's got
+to be played. It was a mistake in ever allowing more than four men
+behind the line. The natural formation of a football team consists of
+seven players in the line, and when you begin to take one or two of
+those players back you're increasing the element of physical force and
+lessening the element of science. More than that, you're playing into
+the hands of the anti-football people, and giving them further grounds
+for their charge of brutality.
+
+"Football's the noblest game that's played, but it's got to be played
+right. We did away with the old mass-play evil and then promptly
+invented the guards-back and the tackle-back. Before long we'll see our
+mistake and do away with those too; revise the rules so that the
+rush-line players can not be drawn back. Then we'll have football as it
+was meant to be played; and we'll have a more skilful game and one of
+more interest both to the players and spectators." Mills paused and
+then asked:
+
+"By the way, do you see much of Fletcher?"
+
+"Yes, quite a bit," answered Sydney. "We were together for two or three
+hours yesterday afternoon."
+
+"Indeed? And did you notice whether he appeared in good spirits? See any
+signs of worry?"
+
+"No, not that I recall. I thought he appeared to be feeling very
+cheerful. I know we laughed a good deal over--over something."
+
+"That's all right, then," answered the coach as they turned in through
+the gate and approached the locker-house. "I had begun to think that
+perhaps he had something on his mind that troubled him. He seemed a bit
+listless yesterday at practise. How about his studies? All right
+there, is he?"
+
+"Oh, yes. Fletcher gets on finely. He was saying only a day or two ago
+that he was surprised to find them going so easily."
+
+"Well, don't mention our talk to him, please; he might start to
+worrying, and that's what we don't want, you know. Perhaps he'll be in
+better shape to-day. We'll try him in the 'antidote.'"
+
+But contrary to the hopes of the head coach, Neil showed no improvement.
+His playing was slow, and he seemed to go at things in a half-hearted
+way far removed from his usual dash and vim. Even the signals appeared
+to puzzle him at times, and more than once Foster turned upon him
+in surprise.
+
+"Say, what the dickens is the matter with you, Neil?" he whispered once.
+Neil showed surprise.
+
+"Why, nothing; I'm all right."
+
+"Well, I'm glad you told me," grumbled the quarter-back, "for I'd never
+have guessed it, my boy."
+
+Before the end of the ten minutes of open practise was over Neil had
+managed to make so many blunders that even the fellows on the seats
+noticed and remarked upon it. Later, when the singing and cheering were
+over and the gates were closed behind the last marching freshman, Neil
+found himself in hot water. The coaches descended upon him in a small
+army, and he stood bewildered while they accused him of every sin in the
+football decalogue. Devoe took a hand, too, and threatened to put him
+off if he didn't wake up.
+
+"Play or get off the field," he said. "And, hang it all, man, look
+intelligent, as though you liked the game!"
+
+Neil strove to look intelligent by banishing the expression of
+bewilderment from his face, and stood patiently by until the last coach
+had hurled the last bolt at his defenseless head--defenseless, that is,
+save for the head harness that was dripping rain-drops down his neck.
+Then he trotted off to the line-up with a queer, half-painful grin
+on his face.
+
+"I guess it's settled for me," he said to, himself, as he rubbed his
+cold, wet hands together. "Evidently I sha'n't have to play off to give
+Paul his place; I've done it already. I suppose I've been bothering my
+head about it until I've forgotten what I've been doing. I wish
+though--" he sighed--"I wish it hadn't been necessary to disgust Mills
+and Bob Devoe and all the others who have been so decent and have hoped
+so much of me. But it's settled now. Whether it's right or wrong, I'm
+going to play like a fool until they get tired of jumping on me and just
+yank me out in sheer disgust.
+
+"Simson's got his eagle eye on me, the old ferret! And he will have me
+on the hospital list to-morrow, I'll bet a dollar. He'll say I've gone
+'fine' and tell me to get plenty of sleep and stay outdoors. And the
+doctor will give me a lot of nasty medicine. Well, it's all in the
+bargain. I'd like to have played in Saturday's game, though; but Paul
+has set his heart on it, and if he doesn't make the team he'll have
+seven fits. It means more to him than it does to me, and next fall will
+soon be here. I can wait."
+
+"_Fletcher! Wake up, will you_?"
+
+Foster was glaring at him angrily. The blood rushed into Neil's face and
+he leaped to his position. Even Ted Foster's patience had given out,
+Neil told himself; and he, like all the rest, would have only contempt
+for him to-morrow. The ball was wet and slimy and easily fumbled. Neil
+lost it the first time it came into his hands.
+
+"Who dropped that ball?" thundered Mills, striding into the back-field,
+pushing players left and right.
+
+"I did," answered Neil, striving to meet the coach's flashing eyes and
+failing miserably.
+
+"You did? Well, do it just once more, Fletcher, and you'll go off! And
+you'll find it hard work getting back again, too. Bear that in mind,
+please." He turned to the others. "Now get together here! Put some life
+into things! Stop that plunging right here! If the second gets another
+yard you'll hear from me!"
+
+"First down; two yards to gain!" called Jones, who was acting as
+referee.
+
+The second came at them again, tackle-back, desperately, fighting hard.
+But the varsity held, and on the next down held again.
+
+"That's better," cried Mills.
+
+"Use your weight, Baker!" shrieked one of the second's coaches, slapping
+the second's left-guard fiercely on the back to lend vehemence to
+the command.
+
+"Center, your man got you that time," cried another. "Into him now!
+Throw him back! Get through!"
+
+Ten coaches were raving and shrieking at once.
+
+"Signal!" cried the second's quarter, Reardon. The babel was hushed,
+save for the voice of Mills crying:
+
+"Steady! Steady! Hold them, varsity!"
+
+"_44--64--73--81!_" came Reardon's muffled voice. Then the second's
+backs plunged forward. Neil and Gillam met them with a crash; cries and
+confusion reigned; the lines shoved and heaved; the backs hurled
+themselves against the swaying group; a smothered voice gasped "Down!"
+the whistle shrilled.
+
+"Varsity's ball!" said the referee. "First down!"
+
+The coaches began their tirades anew. Mills spoke to Foster aside. Then
+the lines again faced each other. Foster glanced back toward Neil.
+
+"_14--12--34--9!_" he sang. It was a kick from close formation. Neil
+changed places with full-back. He had forgotten for the moment the rôle
+he had set himself to play, and only thought of the ball that was flying
+toward him from center. He would do his best. The pigskin settled into
+his hands and he dropped it quickly, kicking it fairly on the rebound.
+But the second was through, and the ball banged against an upstretched
+hand and was lost amidst a struggling group of players. In a moment it
+came to light tightly clutched by Brown of the second eleven.
+
+"I don't have to make believe," groaned Neil. "Fate's playing squarely
+into my hands."
+
+Five minutes later the leather went to him for a run outside of left
+tackle. He never knew whether he tried to do it or really stumbled, but
+he fell before the line was reached, and in a twinkling three of the
+second eleven were pushing his face into the muddy turf. The play had
+lost the varsity four yards. Mills glared at Neil, but said not a word.
+Neil smiled weakly as he went back to his place.
+
+"I needn't try any more," he thought wearily. "He's made up his mind to
+put me off."
+
+A minute later the half ended. When the next one began Paul Gale went in
+at left half-back on the varsity. And Neil, trotting to the
+locker-house, told himself that he was glad, awfully glad, and wished
+the tears wouldn't come into his eyes.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+ON THE EVE OF BATTLE
+
+Neil was duly pronounced "fine" by the trainer, dosed by the doctor, and
+disregarded by the coaches. Mills, having finally concluded that he was
+too risky a person for the line-up on Saturday, figuratively labeled him
+"declined" and passed him over to Tassel, head coach of the second
+eleven. Tassel displayed no enthusiasm, for a good player gone "fine" is
+at best a poor acquisition, and of far less practical value than a poor
+player in good condition. It made little difference to Neil what team he
+belonged to, for he was prohibited from playing on Wednesday, and on
+Thursday the last practise took place and he was in the line-up but five
+minutes. On that day the students again marched to the field and
+practised their songs and cheers. Despite the loss of Cowan and the
+lessening thereby of Erskine's chance of success, enthusiasm reigned
+high. Perhaps their own cheers raised their spirit, for two days before
+the game the college was animated by a totally unwarranted degree of
+hopefulness that amounted almost to confidence. The coaches, however,
+remained carefully pessimistic and took pains to see that the players
+did not share the general hopefulness.
+
+"We may win," said Mills to them after the last practise, "but don't
+think for a moment that it's going to be easy. If we do come out on top
+it will be because every one of you has played as he never dreamed he
+could play. You've got to play your own positions perfectly and then
+help to play each other's. Remember what I've said about team-play.
+Don't think that your work is done when you've put your man out; that's
+the time for you to turn around and help your neighbor. It's just that
+eagerness to aid the next man, that stand-and-fall-together spirit, that
+makes the ideal team. I don't want to see any man on Saturday standing
+around with his hands at his sides; as long as the ball's in play
+there's work for every one. Don't cry 'Down' until you can't run, crawl,
+wriggle, roll, or be pulled another inch. And if you're helping the
+runner don't stop pulling or shoving until there isn't another notch to
+be gained. Never mind how many tacklers there are; the ball's in play
+until the whistle sounds. And, one thing more, remember that you're not
+going to do your best because I tell you to, or because if you don't the
+coaches will give you a wigging, or because a lot of your fellows are
+looking on. You're going to fight your hardest, fight until the last
+whistle blows, fight long after you can't fight any more, because
+you're wearing the Purple of old Erskine and can't do anything else
+but fight!"
+
+The cheer that followed was good to hear. There was not a fellow there
+that didn't feel, at that moment, more than a match for any two men
+Robinson could set up against him. And many a hand clenched
+involuntarily, and many a player registered his silent vow to fight, as
+Mills had said, long after he couldn't fight any more, and, if it
+depended on him, win the game for old Erskine.
+
+On Friday afternoon the men were assembled in the gymnasium and were
+drilled in signals and put through a hard examination in formations.
+Afterward several of the coaches addressed them earnestly, touching each
+man on the spot that hurt, showing them where they failed and how to
+remedy their defects, but never goading them to despondency.
+
+"I should be afraid of a team that was perfect the day before the game,"
+said Preston; "afraid that when the real struggle came they'd disappoint
+me. A team should go into the final contest with the ability to play a
+little better than it has played at any time during the season; with a
+certain amount of power in reserve. And so I expect to-morrow to see
+almost all of the faults that we have talked of eliminated. I expect to
+see every man do that little better that means so much. And if he does
+he'll make Mr. Mills happy, he'll make all the other coaches happy,
+he'll make his captain and himself happy, and he'll make the college
+happy. And he'll make Robinson unhappy!"
+
+Then the line-up that was to start the game was read. Neil, sitting
+listlessly between Paul and Foster, heard it with a little ache at his
+heart. He was glad that Paul was not to be disappointed, but it was hard
+to think that he was to have no part in the supreme battle for which he
+had worked conscientiously all the fall, and the thought of which had
+more than once given him courage to go on when further effort seemed
+impossible.
+
+"Stone, Tucker, Browning, Stowell, Witter, Carey, Devoe, Foster, Gale--"
+
+"Good for you, Paul," whispered Neil. Then he sighed as the list went
+on--
+
+"Gillam, Mason."
+
+Then a long string of substitutes was read. Neil's name was among these,
+but that fact meant little enough.
+
+"Every man whose name has been read report at eleven to-morrow for
+lunch. Early to bed is the rule for every one to-night, and I want every
+one to obey it." Mills paused; then he went on in softer tones: "Some of
+you are disappointed. Some of you have worked faithfully--you all have,
+for that matter--only to meet with disappointment to-day. But we can't
+put you all in the line-up; I wish we could. But to those who have tried
+so hard and so honestly for positions in to-morrow's game, and who have
+of necessity been left out, I can only offer the sympathy of myself and
+the other coaches, and of the other players. You have done your share,
+and it no doubt seems hard that you are to have no better share in the
+final test. But let me tell you that even though you do not play against
+Robinson, you have nevertheless done almost as much toward defeating her
+as though you faced her to-morrow. It's the season's work that
+counts--the long, hard preparation--and in that you've had your place
+and done your part well. And for that I thank you on behalf of myself,
+on behalf of the coaches who have been associated with me, and on behalf
+of the college. And now I am going to ask you fellows of the varsity to
+give three long Erskines, three-times-three, and three long 'scrubs'
+on the end!"
+
+And they were given not once, but thrice. And then the scrub lustily
+cheered the varsity, and they both cheered Mills and Devoe and Simson
+and all the coaches one after another. And when the last long-drawn
+"Erskine" had died away Mills faced them again.
+
+"There's one more cheer I want to hear, fellows, and I think you'll give
+it heartily. In to-morrow's game we are going to use a form of defense
+that will, I believe, enable us to at least render a good account of
+ourselves. And, as most of you know, this defense was thought out and
+developed by a fellow who, although unfortunately unable to play the
+game himself, is nevertheless one of the finest football men in
+college. If we win to-morrow a great big share of the credit will be due
+to that man; if we lose he still will have done as much as any two of
+us. Fellows, I ask for three cheers for Burr!"
+
+Mills led that cheer himself and it was a good one. The pity of it was
+that Sydney wasn't there to hear it.
+
+The November twilight was already stealing down over the campus when
+Neil and Paul left the gymnasium and made their way back to Curtis's.
+Paul was highly elated, for until the line-up had been read he had been
+uncertain of his fate. But his joy was somewhat dampened by the fact
+that Neil had failed to make the team.
+
+"It doesn't seem just right for me to go into the game, chum, with you
+on the side-line," he said. "I don't see what Mills is thinking of! Who
+in thunder's to kick for us?"
+
+"I guess you'll be called on, Paul, if any field-goals are needed."
+
+"I suppose so, but--hang it, Neil, I wish you were going to play!"
+
+"Well, so do I," answered Neil calmly; "but I'm not, and so that settles
+it. After all, they couldn't do anything else, Paul, but let me out.
+I've been playing perfectly rotten lately."
+
+"But--but what's the matter? You don't look stale, chum."
+
+"I feel stale, just the same," answered Neil far from untruthfully.
+
+"But maybe you'll get in for a while; you're down with the subs," said
+Paul hopefully.
+
+"Maybe I will. Maybe you'll get killed and Gillam'll get killed and a
+few more'll get killed and they'll take me on. But don't you worry about
+me; I'm all right."
+
+Paul looked at him as though rather puzzled.
+
+"By Jove, I don't believe you care very much whether you play or don't,"
+he said at last. "If it had been me they'd let out I'd simply gone off
+into a dark corner and died."
+
+"I'm glad it wasn't you," answered Neil heartily.
+
+"Thunder! So'm I!"
+
+The college in general had taken Neil's deflection philosophically after
+the first day or so of wonderment and dismay. The trust in Mills was
+absolute, and if Mills said Fletcher wasn't as good as Gale for left
+half-back, why, he wasn't; that was all there was about it. There was
+one person in college, however, who was not deceived. Sydney Burr,
+recollecting Neil's "supposititious case," never doubted that Neil had
+purposely sacrificed himself for his room-mate. At first he was inclined
+to protest to Neil, even to go the length of making Mills cognizant of
+the real situation; but in the end he kept his own counsel, doubtful of
+his right to interfere. And, in some way, he grew to think that Paul was
+not in the dark; that he knew of Neil's plan and was lending his
+sanction to it; that, in fact, the whole arrangement was a conspiracy in
+which both Neil and Paul shared equally. In this he did Paul injustice,
+as he found out later.
+
+He went to Neil's room that Friday night for a few minutes and found
+Paul much wrought up over the disappearance of Tom Cowan. Cowan's room
+looked as though a cyclone had struck it, Paul declared, and Cowan
+himself was nowhere to be found.
+
+"I'll bet he's done what he said he'd do and left," said Paul. But
+Sydney had seen him but an hour or so before at commons, and Paul set
+out to hunt him up.
+
+"I know you chaps don't like him," he said; "but he's been mighty decent
+to me, and I don't want to seem to be going back on him just now when
+he's so down on his luck. I'll be back in a few minutes."
+
+Sydney found Neil quite cheerful and marveled at it. He himself was
+oppressed by a nervousness that couldn't have been worse had he been due
+to face Robinson's big center the next day. He feared the "antidote"
+wouldn't work right; he feared Robinson had found out all about it and
+had changed their offense; he feared a dozen evils, and Neil was kept
+busy comforting him. At nine o'clock Paul returned without tidings of
+Cowan, and Sydney said good-night.
+
+"I don't believe I'll go out to the field to-morrow," he said half
+seriously. "I'll stay in my room and listen to the cheering. If it
+sounds right toward the end of the game I'll know that things have
+gone our way."
+
+"You won't be able to tell anything of the sort," said Neil, "for the
+fellows are going to cheer just as hard if we lose as they would had we
+won. Mills insists on that, and what he says goes this year."
+
+"That's so," said Paul; "and it's the way it ought to be. If ever a team
+needs cheering and encouragement it's when things are blackest, and not
+when it's winning."
+
+"And so, you see, you'll have to go to the field, Syd," said Neil as he
+followed the other out to the porch. "By Jove, what a night, eh? I never
+saw so many stars, I believe. Well, we'll have a good clear day for the
+game and a good turf underfoot. Good-night, Syd."
+
+"Good-night," answered the other. Then, sorrowfully, "I do wish you were
+going to play, Neil."
+
+"Thanks, Syd; but don't let that keep you awake. Good-night!"
+
+The room-mates chatted in a desultory way for half an hour longer and
+then prepared for bed. Paul was somewhat nervous and excited, and
+displayed a tendency to stop short in the middle of removing a stocking
+to gaze blankly before him for whole minutes at a time. Once he stood
+so long on one leg with his trousers half off that Neil feared he had
+gone to sleep, and so brought him back to a recollection of the business
+in hand by shying a boot at him.
+
+As for Neil, he was untroubled by nervousness. He believed Erskine was
+going to win. For the rest, the eve of battle held no exciting thoughts
+for him. He could neither win the game nor lose it; he was merely a
+spectator, like thousands of others; only he would see the contest from
+the players' bench instead of the big new stand that half encircled
+the field.
+
+But despite the feeling of aloofness that possessed and oppressed him,
+sleep did not come readily. For a long time he heard Paul stirring about
+restlessly across the little bedroom and the occasional cheers of some
+party of patriotic students returning to their rooms across the common.
+His brain refused to stop its labors; and, in fact, kept busily at them
+long after he had fallen asleep. He dreamed continually, a ceaseless
+stream of weird, unpleasant visions causing him to turn and toss all
+through the night and leaving him when dawn came weary and unrefreshed.
+
+Out of doors the early sun was brushing away the white frost. The sky
+was almost devoid of clouds, and the naked branches of the elms reached
+upward unswayed by any breeze. It was an ideal day, that 23d of
+November, bright, clear, and keen. Nature could not have been kinder to
+the warriors who, in a few short hours, were to meet upon the yellowing
+turf, nor to the thousands who were to assemble and cheer them on to
+victory--or defeat.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+COWAN BECOMES INDIGNANT
+
+Breakfast at the training-table that morning was a strange meal, to
+which the fellows loitered in at whatever hour best pleased them. Many
+showed signs of restless slumber, and the trainer was as watchful as an
+old hen with a brood of chickens. For some there were Saturday morning
+recitations; those who were free were sent out to the field at ten
+o'clock and were put through a twenty-minute signal practise. Among
+these were Neil and Paul. A trot four times around the gridiron ended
+the morning's work, and they were dismissed with orders to report at
+twelve o'clock for lunch.
+
+Neil, Paul, and Foster walked back together, and it was the last that
+suggested going down to the depot to see the arrival of the Robinson
+players. So they turned down Poplar Street to Main and made their way
+along in front of the row of stores there. The village already showed
+symptoms of excitement. The windows were dressed in royal purple, with
+here and there a touch of the brown of Robinson, and the sidewalk
+already held many visitors, while others were invading the college
+grounds across the street. Farther on the trio passed the bicycle
+repair-shop. In front of the door, astride an empty box, sat the
+proprietor, sunning himself and keeping a careful watch on the village
+happenings. With a laugh Neil left his companions and ran across
+the street.
+
+"Good-morning," he said. The little man on the box looked up inquiringly
+but failed to recognize his tormentor.
+
+"Mornin'," he grunted suspiciously.
+
+"I wanted to tell you," said Neil gravely, "that your diagnosis was
+correct, after all."
+
+"Hey?" asked the little man querulously.
+
+"Yes, it _was_ a cold-chisel that did it," said Neil. "You remember you
+said it was."
+
+"Cold-chisel? Say, what you talkin'--" Then a light of recognition
+sprang into his weazened features. "You're the feller that owes me a
+quarter!" he cried shrilly, scrambling to his feet.
+
+Neil was off on the instant. As the three went on toward the station the
+little man's denunciations followed them:
+
+"You come back here an' pay me that quarter! If I knew yer name I'd have
+ther law on yer! But I know yer face, an' I'll--"
+
+"His name's Legion," called Ted Foster over his shoulder.
+
+"Hey? What?" shrieked the repair man.
+
+"Legion!"
+
+"I don't know what you say, but I'll report that feller ter th'
+authorities!"
+
+Then a long whistle broke in upon the discussion, and the three rushed
+for the station platform.
+
+From the vantage-point of a baggage-truck they watched the Robinson
+players and the accompanying contingent descend from the train. There
+were twenty-eight of the former, heavily built, strapping-looking
+fellows, and with them a small army of coaches, trainers, and
+supporters. Neil dug his elbow against Paul.
+
+"Look," he said, "there's your friend Brill."
+
+And sure enough, there was the Robinson coach who had visited the two at
+Hillton a year before and tried to get them to go to the rival college.
+
+"If you'd like to make arrangements for next year, Paul," Neil whispered
+mischievously, "now's your time."
+
+But Paul grinned and shook his head.
+
+The players and most of the coaches tumbled into carriages and were
+taken out to Erskine Field for a short practise, and the balance of the
+arrivals started on foot toward the hotel. The three friends retraced
+their steps. Luckily, the proprietor of the bicycle repair-shop was so
+busy looking over the strangers that they passed unseen in the little
+stream. There remained the better part of an hour before lunch-time, and
+they found themselves at a loss for a way to spend the time. Foster
+finally went off to his room, as he explained airily, "to dash off a
+letter on his typewriter," a statement that was greeted with howls of
+derision from the others, who, for want of a better place, went into
+Butler's bookstore and aimlessly looked over the magazines and papers.
+
+It was while thus engaged that Paul heard his name spoken, and turned to
+find Mr. Brill smilingly holding out his hand.
+
+"I thought I wasn't mistaken," the Robinson coach said as they shook
+hands. "And isn't that your friend Fletcher over there?"
+
+Neil heard and came over, and the three stood and talked for a few
+minutes. Mr. Brill seemed well pleased with the football outlook.
+
+"I'll wager you gentlemen will regret not coming to us after to-day's
+game is over," he laughed. "I hear you've got something up your sleeve."
+
+"We have," said Neil.
+
+"So I heard. What's the nature of it?"
+
+"It's muscle," answered Neil gravely.
+
+The coach laughed. "Of course, if it's a secret, I don't want to hear
+it. But I think you're safe to get beaten, secret or no secret, eh?"
+
+"Nonsense!" said Paul. "You won't know what struck you when we get
+through with you."
+
+Mr. Brill laughed good-naturedly but didn't look alarmed.
+
+"By the way," he said, "I saw one of your players a while
+ago--Cowan--the fellow we protested. He seemed rather sore."
+
+"Where was he?" asked Paul eagerly.
+
+"In a drug-store down there toward the next corner. Have your coaches
+found a good man for his place?"
+
+"Oh, yes, it wasn't hard to fill," answered Neil. "Witter's got it."
+
+"Witter? I don't think I've heard of him."
+
+"No, he's not famous--yet; you'll know him better later on."
+
+Paul was plainly anxious to go in search of Cowan, and so they bade the
+Robinson coach good-by. Out on the sidewalk Neil turned a troubled face
+toward his friend.
+
+"Say, Paul, Cowan knows all about the 'antidote,' doesn't he?"
+
+"Why, yes, I suppose so; he's seen it played."
+
+"And he knows the signals, too, eh?"
+
+"Of course. Why?"
+
+"Well, I've been wondering whether--You heard what Brill said--that
+Cowan was feeling sore? Well, do you suppose he'd be mean enough
+to--to--"
+
+"By thunder!" muttered Paul. Then: "No, I don't believe that Cowan would
+do a thing like that. I don't think he's a--a traitor!"
+
+"Well, you know him better than I do," said Neil, "and I dare say you're
+right. Only--only I wish we could be certain."
+
+"I'll find him," answered Paul determinedly. "You wait here for me; or,
+no, I may have to hunt; I'll see you at lunch. I'll find out all right."
+
+He was off on the instant. As he had told Neil, he didn't believe that
+Cowan would reveal secrets to Brill or any other of the Robinson people;
+but--well, he realized that Cowan was feeling very much aggrieved, and
+that he might in his present state of mind do what in a saner moment he
+would not consider. At the drug-store he was told that Cowan had left a
+few minutes before. The only place that Paul could think of where Cowan
+was likely to be was his room, so thither he went. He found the deposed
+guard engaged in replacing certain of his pictures and ornaments which
+had been taken down.
+
+"Hello!" he said. "Thought you'd cut my acquaintance too."
+
+"Nonsense," answered Paul, "I've been trying to find you ever since last
+night. Where've you been?"
+
+"Oh, just knocking around. I got back late last night."
+
+"I was afraid you had left college. You know you said you might."
+
+"I know. Well, I've changed my mind. I guess I'll stay on until recess
+anyway; maybe until summer. What's the use going anywhere else? If I
+went to Robinson I couldn't play; Erskine would protest me. I wish to
+goodness I'd had sense enough to let that academy team go hang! Only I
+needed some money, and it seemed a good way to make it. After all, there
+wasn't anything dishonest about it!"
+
+"N--no," said Paul.
+
+"Well, was there?" Cowan demanded, turning upon him fiercely. Paul shook
+his head.
+
+"No, there wasn't. Only, of course, you'd ought to have remembered that
+it disqualified you here." Cowan looked surprised.
+
+"My, but you're getting squeamish!" he said. "The first thing you know
+you'll be as bad as Fletcher." There was a moment's silence. "What does
+he say about it?" Cowan asked carelessly.
+
+"Who, Neil? Oh, he--he sympathizes with you," answered Paul vaguely.
+"Says it's awfully hard lines, but doesn't think the committee could do
+anything else."
+
+"Humph!"
+
+"By the way," said Paul, recollecting his errand, "I met Brill of
+Robinson a while ago. He said he'd seen you."
+
+"Yes," grunted Cowan. "I'd like to punch him. Made believe he was all
+cut up over my being put off. Why--why it was he that knew about that
+academy business! Last September he tried to get me to go to Robinson;
+offered me anything I wanted, and I refused. After all a--a fellow's got
+some loyalty! He asked all sorts of questions as to whether I was
+eligible or not, and I--I don't know what made me, but I told him about
+taking that money for playing tackle on that old academy team. He said
+that wouldn't matter any. But after I decided not to go to Robinson he
+changed his tune; said he wasn't sure but that I was ineligible!"
+
+"He's a cad," said Paul."
+
+"And then to-day he tried to get sympathetic, but I shut him up mighty
+quick. I told him I knew well enough he was the one who had started the
+protest, and offered to punch his nose if he'd come over back of the
+stores; but he wouldn't," added Cowan aggrievedly.
+
+"You--you didn't let out anything to him that would--er--help them in
+the game, did you?" asked Paul, studying the floor with great attention.
+
+"Let out anything?" asked Cowan in puzzled tones. "What do you--" He put
+down the picture he held and faced Paul, the blood dying his face. "Look
+here, Paul, what do you mean by that?"
+
+"Why, why--"
+
+"You want to know if I turned traitor? If I gave away our signals or
+something like that, eh?" There was honest indignation in his voice and
+a trace of pain, and Paul regretted his suspicions on the instant.
+
+"Oh, come now, old man," he began, "what I meant--"
+
+"Now let me tell you something, Gale," said Cowan. "I may not be so nice
+as you and Fletcher and Devoe and a lot more of your sort, but I'm not
+an out-and-out rascal and traitor! And I didn't think you'd put that on
+me, by Jove! I've no love for some of the fellows in this college, nor
+for Mills, and I wouldn't care if we got beaten--" He paused. "Yes, I
+would, too; I want Robinson to get done up so hard that they'll throw
+that cheat Brill out of there. But I want you to understand right here
+and now that I'm not cad enough to sell signals."
+
+"I beg your pardon, Tom," said Paul earnestly. "I didn't think it of
+you. Only, when Brill said he'd seen you and that you were feeling
+sore, we--I--"
+
+"Oh, so it was Fletcher that suspected it, was it?" demanded Cowan.
+
+"No more than I," answered Paul stoutly. "We neither of us really
+thought you'd turn traitor, but I was afraid that, feeling the way you
+naturally would, you might thoughtlessly say something that Brill could
+make use of. That's all"
+
+Cowan looked doubtful for a moment, then he sniffed.
+
+"Well, all right," he said finally. "Forget it."
+
+"You're going out to the game, aren't you?" Paul asked.
+
+"Yes, I guess so. What's Fletcher think of being laid off?"
+
+"Well, he doesn't seem to mind it as I thought he would. I--I don't know
+quite what to make of him. It almost seems that he's--well, glad of it!"
+
+"Huh! You've got another guess, my friend."
+
+"How's that? What do you mean?"
+
+"Nothing much; only I guess I've got better eyes than you," responded
+Cowan with a grin. After a pause during which he rearranged the objects
+on the mantel-shelf to his satisfaction, he turned to Paul again:
+
+"Say, do you think Fletcher and I could get on together if--well, if we
+knew each other better?"
+
+"I'm sure you could," answered Paul eagerly.
+
+"Well, I think I'd like to try it. He--he's not a bad sort of a chap.
+Only maybe he wouldn't care to--er--"
+
+"Oh, yes, he would," answered Paul. "You'll see, Tom."
+
+"Well, maybe so. Going? Good luck to you. I'll see you on the field."
+
+Paul hurried around the long curve of Elm Street toward Pearson's
+boarding-house, where the players were already gathering for luncheon.
+He found Neil on the steps and dragged him off and down to the gate.
+
+"It's all right," he said. "I found him and asked him, and I wish I
+hadn't. He was awfully cut up about it; seemed hurt to think I could
+suspect such a thing. Though, really, I didn't quite suspect, you know."
+
+"I'm sorry we hurt his feelings," said Neil. "It was a bit mean of me to
+suggest it."
+
+"He's going to stay for a while," went on Paul. "And--and--Look here,
+chum, don't you think that if--er--you tried you could get to like him
+better? From something he said to-day I found out that he thinks you're
+a good sort and he'd like to get on with you. Maybe if we kind of looked
+after him we could--oh, I don't know! But you see what I mean?"
+
+"Yes, I see what you mean," replied Neil thoughtfully. "And maybe we'd
+get on better if we tried again. Anyhow, Paul, you ask him down to the
+room some night and--and we'll see."
+
+"Thanks," said Paul gratefully. "And now let's get busy with the funeral
+baked beans--I mean meats. Gee, I've got about as much appetite as a
+fly! I--I wish the game was over with!"
+
+"So do I," answered Neil, as with a sigh he listlessly followed his chum
+into the house.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+THE "ANTIDOTE" IS ADMINISTERED
+
+[Illustration]
+
+High up against a fair blue sky studded with fleecy clouds streamed a
+banner of royal purple bearing in its center a great white E--a flare of
+intense color visible from afar over the topmost branches of the empty
+elms, and a beacon toward which the stream of spectators set their
+steps. In the tower of College Hall the old bell struck two o'clock, and
+the throngs at the gates of Erskine Field moved faster, swaying and
+pushing past the ticket-takers and streaming out onto the field toward
+the big stands already piled high with laughing, chattering humanity.
+Under the great flag stretched a long bank of somber grays and black
+splashed thickly with purple, looking from a little distance as though
+the big banner had dripped its dye on to the multitude beneath.
+Opposite, the rival tiers of crowded seats were pricked out lavishly
+with the rich but less brilliant brown, while at the end of the
+enclosure, where the throngs entered, a smaller stand flaunted the two
+colors in almost equal proportions.
+
+And between stretched a smooth expanse of russet-hued turf ribbed with
+white lines that glared in the afternoon sunlight.
+
+The college band, augmented for the occasion from the ranks of the
+village musicians, played blithely; some twelve thousand persons talked,
+laughed, or shouted ceaselessly; and the cheering sections were loudly
+contending for vocal supremacy. And suddenly on to this scene trotted a
+little band of men in black sweaters with purple 'E's, nice new canvas
+trousers, and purple and black stockings; and just as suddenly the north
+stand arose and the Robinson cheers were blotted out by a mighty chorus
+that swept from end to end of the structure and thundered impressively
+across the field:
+
+"_Erskine! Erskine! Erskine! Rah-rah-rah, rah-rah-rah, rah-rah-rah!
+Erskine! Erskine! Erskine!_"
+
+It was repeated over and over, and might, perhaps, have been sounding
+yet had not the Robinson players, sturdy, brown-clad youths, ambled onto
+the field. Then it was Robinson's turn to make a noise, and she made it;
+there's no doubt about that.
+
+"_Rah-rah-rah! Robinson! Rah-rah-rah! Robinson! Rah-rah-rah! Robinson!
+Robinson! Robinson!_"
+
+The substitutes of both teams retired to the benches and the players who
+were to start the game warmed up. Over near the east goal three Erskine
+warriors were trying--alas, not very successfully!--to kick the ball
+over the cross-bar; they were Devoe and Paul and Mason. Nearer at hand
+Ted Foster was personally conducting a little squad around the field by
+short stages, and his voice, shrilly cheerful, thrilled doubting
+supporters of the Purple hopefully. Robinson's players were going
+through much the same antics at the other end of the gridiron, and there
+was a business-like air about them that caused many an Erskine watcher
+to scent defeat for his college.
+
+The cheers had given place to songs, and the leader of the band faced
+the occupants of the north stand and swung his baton vigorously.
+Presumably the band was playing, but unless you had been in its
+immediate vicinity you would never have known it. Many of the popular
+airs of the day had been refitted with new words for the occasion. As
+poetic compositions they were not remarkable, but sung with enthusiasm
+by several hundred sturdy voices they answered the purpose. Robinson
+replied in kind, but in lesser volume, and the preliminary battle, the
+war of voices, went on until three persons, a youth in purple, a youth
+in brown, and a man in everyday attire, met in the middle of the field
+and watched a coin spin upward in the sunlight and fall to the ground.
+Then speedily the contesting forces took their position, the lines-men
+and timekeeper hurried forward, and the great stands were
+almost stilled.
+
+Erskine had the ball and the west goal. Stowell poised the pigskin to
+his liking and drew back. Devoe shouted a last word of caution. The
+referee, a well-known football player and coach, raised his whistle.
+
+"Are you ready, Erskine? All ready, Robinson?"
+
+Then the whistle shrilled, the timekeeper's watch clicked, the ball sped
+away, and the game had begun.
+
+The brown-clad skirmishers leaped forward to oppose the invaders, while
+the pigskin, slowly revolving, arched in long flight toward the west
+goal. It struck near the ten-yard line and the wily Robinson left half
+let it go; but instead of rolling over the goal-line it bumped
+erratically against the left post and bobbed back to near the first
+white line. The left half was on it then like a flash, but the Erskine
+forwards were almost upon him and his run was only six yards long, and
+it was Robinson's ball on her ten-yard line. The north stand was
+applauding vociferously this stroke of fortune. If Erskine could get
+possession of the ball now she might be able to score; but her coaches,
+watching intently from the side-line, knew that only the veriest fluke
+could give the pigskin to the Purple. And meanwhile, with hearts beating
+a little faster than usual, they awaited the first practical test of the
+"antidote."
+
+Robinson lined up quickly. Left tackle dropped from the line, and taking
+a position between full-back and right half, formed the center of the
+tandem that faced the tackle-guard hole on the right. Left half stood
+well back, behind quarter, ready to oppose any Erskine players who
+managed to get around the left of their line. The full-back who headed
+the tandem was a notable line-bucker, although his weight was but 172
+pounds. The left tackle, Balcom, tipped the scales at 187, while the
+third member of the trio was twenty pounds lighter. Together they
+represented 525 pounds.
+
+Opposed to them were Gillam and Mason, whose combined weight was 312
+pounds. Gillam stood between left-guard and tackle, with Mason, his
+hands on the other's shoulders, close behind.
+
+The Robinson quarter stared for an instant with interest at the opposing
+formation, and the full-back, crouched forward ready to plunge across
+the little space that divided him from the opponents' territory, looked
+uneasy. Then the quarter stooped behind the big center.
+
+"_Signal!_" he called. "_12--21--212!_"
+
+The ball came back to him. At the same instant the tandem moved forward,
+the Erskine guard and tackle engaged the opposing guard and tackle, and
+Gillam and Mason shot through the hole, the former with head down and a
+padded shoulder presented to the enemy, and the latter steadying him and
+hurling him forward. Then two things happened at the same moment; the
+ball passed from quarter to tackle, and Gillam and the leader of the
+tandem came together.
+
+The shock of that collision was plainly heard on the side-lines. For an
+instant the tandem stopped short. Then superior weight told, and it
+moved forward again, reenforced by quarter and right end; but
+simultaneously the Erskine quarter and left half made themselves felt
+back of Mason and Gillam, and then chaos reigned. The entire forces of
+each side were in the play, and for nearly half a minute the swaying
+mass moved inch by inch, first forward, then backward, the Robinson left
+tackle refusing to believe that their famous play was for once a failure
+and so clinging desperately to the ball, the center of a veritable
+maelstrom of panting, struggling players. Then the whistle sounded and
+the dust of battle cleared away. Robinson had gained half a yard.
+
+The north stand cheered delightedly. It had only seen the Robinson
+tandem stopped in its tracks, and did not know that in the struggle just
+passed Erskine had used a new and novel defense for the first time on
+any football field, had vindicated her coaches' faith in it, and brought
+surprise and dismay to the brown-clad warriors and their adherents. If
+it had known as much as Mills and Jones and Sydney about the "antidote"
+it would have shouted itself hoarse.
+
+Gillam trotted back to his place. His extra-padded head-harness and
+heavy shoulder-pads had brought him forth unscathed. On the side-line
+the Erskine coaches talked softly to each other, trying hard to look
+unconcerned, but nevertheless showing their pleasure. Sydney Burr,
+rather pale, was among them, and was, perhaps, the happiest of all. The
+bench whereon the substitutes sat was one long grin from end to end. But
+Robinson was far from being beaten, and the game went on.
+
+Again the tandem was hurled at the same point, and again Gillam met the
+shock of it. This time the defense worked better, and Robinson lost the
+half-yard of gain and another half-yard on top of that.
+
+"Six yards to gain," said the score-board. And the purple-decked stand
+voiced its triumph.
+
+Robinson wisely decided to yield possession of the ball and get away
+from such a dangerous locality. On the next play she punted and Paul was
+brought to earth on Robinson's fifty yards. Now was the time for Erskine
+to test her offensive powers. On the first play, using the
+close-formation, Gillam slashed a hole between the opposing center and
+right-guard and Mason went through for two yards. The next play netted
+them another yard in the same place. Then Paul was given the pigskin for
+a try outside of right tackle and reeled off four yards more before he
+was downed. It was quick starting and fast running, and for the moment
+Robinson was taken off her feet; but the next try ended dismally, for in
+an attempt to get through the left of the line between guard and tackle
+Mason was caught and thrown back for a two-yard loss. Another try
+outside of tackle on that side of the line netted but a bare three feet,
+and Foster dropped back for a kick. His effort was not very successful,
+and the ball was Robinson's on her twenty-seven yards.
+
+Now she tried the tackle-tandem on the other side of center, hurling
+right tackle, followed by left half with the ball, and full-back at the
+guard-tackle hole. Paul led the defense this time, and again Robinson
+was brought up all standing. Another try at the same point with like
+results, and Robinson changed her tactics. With the tandem formation,
+the ball went to full-back, and with left end and tackle interfering he
+skirted Erskine's right for seven yards and brought the wearers of the
+brown to their feet shouting wildly. Perhaps no one was more surprised
+than Bob Devoe, for it was his end that had been circled. Certainly no
+one was more thoroughly disgusted than he. The Robinson left end had put
+him out of the play as neatly as though he had been the veriest tyro.
+Devoe sized up that youth, set his lips together, and kept his
+eyes open.
+
+Robinson now had the ball near her thirty-five yards and returned to the
+tackle-tandem. In two plays she gained two yards, the result of faster
+playing. Then another try outside of right tackle brought her five
+yards. Tackle-tandem again, one yard; again, two yards; a try outside of
+tackle, one yard; Erskine's ball on Robinson's forty-three yards. The
+pigskin went to Gillam, who got safely away outside Robinson's right end
+and reeled off ten yards before he was caught. Again he was given the
+ball for a plunge through right tackle and barely gained a yard. Mason
+found another yard between left-guard and tackle and Foster kicked. It
+was poorly done, and the leather went into touch at the twenty-five
+yards, and once more Robinson set her feet toward the Erskine goal.
+
+So far the playing had all been done in her territory and her coaches
+were looking anxious. Erskine's defense was totally unlooked for, both
+as regarded style and effectiveness, and the problem that confronted
+them was serious. Their team had been perfected in the tackle-tandem
+play to the neglecting of almost all else. Their backs were heavy and
+consequently slow when compared with their opponents. To be sure, thus
+far runs outside of tackle and end had been successful, but the coaches
+well knew that as soon as Erskine found that such plays were to be
+expected she would promptly spoil them. Kicking was not a strong point
+with Robinson this year; at that game her enemy could undoubtedly beat
+her. Therefore, if the tackle-back play didn't work what was to be done?
+There was only one answer: Make it! There was no time or opportunity now
+to teach new tricks; Robinson must stand or fall by tackle-tandem. And
+while the coaches were arriving at this conclusion, White, their captain
+and quarter-back, had already reached it.
+
+He placed the head of the tandem nearer the line, put the tackle at the
+head of it, and hammered away again. Mills, seeing the move, silently
+applauded. It was the one way to strengthen the tandem play, for by
+starting nearer the line the tandem could possibly reach it before the
+charging opponents got into the play. Momentum was sacrificed and an
+instant of time gained, and, as it proved, that instant of time meant a
+difference of fully a yard on each play. Had the two Erskine warriors
+whose duty it was to hurl themselves against the tandem been of heavier
+weight it is doubtful if the change made would have greatly benefited
+their opponents; but, as it was, the two forces met about on Robinson's
+line, and after the first recoil the Brown was able to gain, sometimes a
+bare eighteen inches, sometimes a yard, once or twice three or four.
+
+And now Robinson took up her march steadily toward the Purple's goal.
+The backs plowed through for short distances; Gillam and Paul bore the
+brunt of the terrific assaults heroically; the Erskine line fell back
+foot by foot, yard by yard; and presently Robinson crossed the
+fifty-five-yard line and emerged into Erskine territory. Here there was
+a momentary pause in her conquering invasion. A fumble by the full-back
+allowed Devoe to get through and fall on the ball.
+
+Erskine now knifed the Brown's line here and there and shot Gillam and
+Paul through for short gains and made her distance. Then, with the
+pigskin back in Robinson territory, Erskine was caught holding and
+Robinson once more took up her advance. Carey at right tackle weakened
+and the Brown piled her backs through him. On Erskine's thirty-two yards
+he gave place to Jewell and the tandem moved its attack to the other
+side of the line. Paul and Gillam, both pretty well punished, still held
+out stubbornly. Yard by yard the remaining distance was covered. On her
+fifteen yards, almost under the shadow of her goal-posts, Erskine was
+given ten yards for off-side play, and the waning hopes of the
+breathless watchers on the north stand revived.
+
+But from the twenty-five-yard line the steady rushes went on again, back
+over the lost ground, and soon, with the half almost gone, Robinson
+placed the ball on Erskine's five yards. Twice the tandem was met
+desperately and hurled back, but on the third down, with her whole
+back-field behind the ball, Robinson literally mowed her way through,
+sweeping Paul and Mason, and Gillam and Foster before her, and threw
+Bond over between the posts with the ball close snuggled beneath him.
+
+The south stand leaped to its feet, blue flags and streamers fluttered
+and waved, and cheers for Robinson rent the air until long after the
+Brown's left half had kicked a goal. Then the two teams faced each other
+again and the Robinson left end got the kick-off and ran it back fifteen
+yards. Again the battering of the tackle-tandem began, and Paul and
+Gillam, nearly spent, were unable to withstand it after the first half
+dozen plays. Mason went into the van of the defense in place of Gillam,
+but the Brown's advance continued; one yard, two yards, three yards were
+left behind.
+
+Mills, watching, glanced almost impatiently at the timekeeper, who, with
+his watch in hand, followed the battle along the side-line. The time was
+almost up, but Robinson was back on Erskine's thirty-five yards. But now
+the timekeeper walked on to the gridiron, his eyes fixed intently on the
+dial, and ere the ball went again into play he had called time. The
+lines broke up and the two teams trotted away.
+
+The score-board proclaimed:
+
+Erskine 0, Opponents 6.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+BETWEEN THE HALVES
+
+Neil trotted along at the tail-end of the procession of substitutes, so
+deep in thought that he passed through the gate without knowing it, and
+only came to himself when he stumbled up the locker-house steps. He
+barked his shins and reached a conclusion at the same instant.
+
+At the door of the dressing-room a strong odor of witch-hazel and
+liniment met him. He squeezed his way past a group of coaches and looked
+about him. Confusion reigned supreme. Rubbers and trainer were hard at
+work. Simson's voice, commanding, threatening, was raised above all
+others, a shrill, imperious note in a rising and falling babel of sound.
+Veterans of the first half and substitutes chaffed each other
+mercilessly. Browning, with an upper lip for all the world like a piece
+of raw beef, mumbled good-natured retorts to the charges brought against
+him by Reardon, the substitute quarter-back.
+
+[Illustration: Erskine vs. Robinson--The First Half.]
+
+"Yes, you really ought to be careful," the latter was saying with
+apparent concern. "If you let those chaps throw you around like that
+you may get bruised or broken. I'll speak to Price and ask him to be
+more easy with you."
+
+"Mmbuble blubble mummum," observed Browning.
+
+"Oh, don't say that," Reardon entreated.
+
+Neil was looking for Paul, and presently he discovered him. He was lying
+on his back while a rubber was pommeling his neck and shoulders
+violently and apparently trying to drown him in witch-hazel. He caught
+sight of Neil and winked one highly discolored eye. Neil examined him
+gravely; Paul grinned.
+
+"There's a square inch just under your left ear, Paul, that doesn't
+appear to have been hit. How does that happen?"
+
+Paul grinned more generously, although the effort evidently pained him.
+
+"It's very careless of them, I must say," Neil went on sternly. "See
+that it is attended to in the next half."
+
+"Don't worry," answered Paul, "it will be." Neil smiled.
+
+"How are you feeling?" he asked.
+
+"Fine," Paul replied. "I'm just getting limbered up."
+
+"You look it," said Neil dryly. "I suppose by the time your silly neck
+is broken you'll be in pretty good shape to play ball, eh?" Simson
+hurried up, closely followed by Mills.
+
+"How's the neck?" he asked.
+
+"It's all right now," answered Paul. "It felt as though it had been
+driven into my body for about a yard."
+
+"Do you think you can start the next half?" asked Mills anxiously.
+
+"Sure; I can play it through; I'm all right now," replied Paul gaily.
+Mills's face cleared.
+
+"Good boy!" he muttered, and turned away. Neil sped after him.
+
+"Mr. Mills," he called. The head coach turned, annoyed by the
+interruption.
+
+"Well, Fletcher; what is it?"
+
+"Can't I get in for a while, sir?" asked Neil earnestly. "I'm feeling
+fine. Gillam can't last the game, nor Paul. I wish you'd let--"
+
+"See Devoe about it," answered Mills shortly. He hurried away, leaving
+Neil with open mouth and reddening cheeks.
+
+"Well, that's what I get for disappointing folks," he told himself.
+"Only he needn't have been _quite_ so short. What's the good of asking
+Devoe? He won't let me on. And--but I'll try, just the same. Paul's had
+his chance and there's no harm now in looking after Neil Fletcher."
+
+He found Devoe with Foster and one of the coaches. The latter was
+lecturing them forcibly in lowered tones, and Neil hesitated to
+interrupt; but while he stood by undecided Devoe glanced up, his face a
+pucker of anxiety. Neil strode forward.
+
+"Say, Bob, get me on this half, can't you? Mills told me to see you," he
+begged. "Give me a chance, Bob!"
+
+Devoe frowned impatiently and shook his head.
+
+"Can't be done, Neil. Mills has no business sending you to me. He's
+looking after the fellows himself. I've got troubles enough of my own."
+
+"But if I tell him you're willing?" asked Neil eagerly.
+
+"I'm not willing," said Devoe. "If he wants you he'll put you on. Don't
+bother me, Neil, for heaven's sake. Talk to Mills."
+
+Neil turned away in disappointment. It was no use. He knew he could play
+the game of his life if only they'd take him on. But they didn't know;
+they only knew that he had been tried and found wanting. There was no
+time now to test doubtful men. Mills and Devoe and Simson were not to be
+blamed; Neil recognized that fact, but it didn't make him happy. He
+found a seat on a bench near the door and dismally looked on. Suddenly a
+conversation near at hand engaged his attention.
+
+Mills, Jones, Sydney Burr, and two other assistant coaches were gathered
+together, and Mills was talking.
+
+"The 'antidote's' all right," he was saying decidedly. "If we had a
+team that equaled theirs in weight we could stop them short; but they're
+ten pounds heavier in the line and seven pounds heavier behind it. What
+can you expect? Without the 'antidote' they'd have had us snowed under
+now; they'd have scored five or six times on us."
+
+"Easy," said Jones. "The 'antidote's' all right, Burr. What we need are
+men to make it go. That's why I say take Gillam out. He's played a star
+game, but he's done up now. Let Pearse take his place, play Gale as long
+as he'll last, and then put in Smith. How about Fletcher?"
+
+"No good," answered Mills. "At least--" He stopped and narrowed his
+eyes, as was his way when thinking hard.
+
+"I think he'd be all right, Mr. Mills," said Sydney. "I--I know him
+pretty well, and I know he's the sort of fellow that will fight hardest
+when the game's going wrong."
+
+"I thought so, too," answered Mills; "but--well, we'll see. Maybe we'll
+give him a try. Time's up now.--O Devoe!"
+
+"Yes, coming!"
+
+"Here's your list. Better get your men out."
+
+There was a hurried donning of clothing, a renewed uproar.
+
+"All ready, fellows," shouted the captain. "Answer to your names:
+Kendall, Tucker, Browning, Stowell, Witter, Jewell, Devoe, Gale, Pearse,
+Mason, Foster."
+
+"There's not much use in talk," said Mills, as the babel partly died
+away. "I've got no fault to find with the work of any of you in the last
+half; but we've got to do better in this half; you can see that for
+yourselves. You were a little bit weak on team-play; see if you can't
+get together. We're going to tie the score; maybe we're going to beat.
+Anyhow, let's work like thunder, fellows, and, if we can't do any more,
+tear that confounded tackle-tandem up and send it home in pieces. We've
+got thirty-five minutes left in which to show that we're as good if not
+better than Robinson. Any fellow that thinks he's not as good as the man
+he's going to line up against had better stay out. I know that every one
+of you is willing, but some of you appeared in the last half to be
+laboring under the impression that you were up against better men. Get
+rid of that idea. Those Robinson fellows are just the same as you--two
+legs, two arms, two eyes, a nose, and a mouth. Go at it right and you
+can put them out of the play. Remember before you give up that the other
+man's just as tuckered as you are, maybe more so. Your captain says we
+can win out. I think he knows more about it than we fellows on the
+side-line do. Now go ahead, get together, put all you've got into it,
+and see whether your captain knows what he's talking about. Let's have
+a cheer for Erskine!"
+
+Neil stood up on the bench and got into that cheer in great shape. He
+was feeling better. Mills had half promised to put him in, and while
+that might mean much or nothing it was ground for hope. He trotted on to
+the field and over to the benches almost happily.
+
+The spectators were settling back in their seats, and the cheering had
+begun once more. The north stand had regained its spirit. After all, the
+game wasn't lost until the last whistle blew, and there was no telling
+what might happen before that. So the student section cheered and sang,
+the band heroically strove to make itself heard, and the purple flags
+tossed and fluttered. The sun was almost behind the west corner of the
+stand, and overcoat collars and fur neck-pieces were being snuggled into
+place. From the west tiers of seats came the steady tramp-tramp of
+chilled feet, hinting their owners' impatience.
+
+The players took their places, silence fell, and the referee's whistle
+blew. Robinson kicked off, and the last half of the battle began.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+NEIL GOES IN
+
+But what a dismal beginning it was!
+
+Pearse, who had taken Gillam's place at right half-back, misjudged the
+long, low kick, just managed to tip the ball with one outstretched hand
+as it went over his head, and so had to turn and chase it back to the
+goal-line. But Mason had seen the danger and was before him. Seizing the
+bouncing pigskin, he was able to reach the ten-yard line ere the
+Robinson right end bore him to earth. A moment later the ball went to
+the other side as a penalty for holding, and it was Robinson's first
+down on Erskine's twelve yards. Neil, watching intently from the bench,
+groaned loudly. Stone, beside him, kicked angrily into the turf.
+
+"That settles it," he muttered glumly. "Idiots!"
+
+Pearse it was who met that first fierce onslaught of the Brown's tandem,
+and he was new to the play; but Mason was behind him, and he was sent
+crashing into the leader like a ball from the mouth of a cannon. The
+tandem stopped; a sudden bedlam of voices from the stands broke forth;
+there were cries of "Ball! Ball!" and Witter flung himself through,
+rolled over a few times, and on the twenty-yard line, with half the
+Erskine team striving to pull him on and all the Robinson team trying to
+pull him back, groaned a faint "Down!" Robinson's tackle had fumbled the
+pass, and for the moment Erskine's goal was out of danger.
+
+"Line up!" shouted Ted Foster. "Signal!"
+
+The men scurried to their places.
+
+"_49--35--23!_"
+
+Back went the ball and Pearse was circling out toward his own left end,
+Paul interfering. The north stand leaped to its feet, for it looked for
+a moment as though the runner was safely away. But Seider, the Brown's
+right half, got him about the knees, and though Pearse struggled and was
+dragged fully five yards farther, finally brought him down. Fifteen
+yards was netted, and the Erskine supporters found cause for
+loud acclaim.
+
+"Bully tackle, that," said Neil. Stone nodded.
+
+"Seems to me we can get around those ends," he muttered; "especially the
+left. I don't think Bloch is much of a wonder. There goes Pearse."
+
+The ends were again worked by the two half-backs and the distance thrice
+won. The purple banners waved ecstatically and the cheers for Erskine
+thundered out. Neil was slapping Stone wildly on the knee.
+
+"Hold on," protested the left end, "try the other. That one's a bit
+lame."
+
+"Isn't Pearse a peach?" said Neil. "Oh, but I wish I was out there!"
+
+"You may get a whack at it yet," answered Stone. "There goes a jab at
+the line."
+
+"I may," sighed Neil. He paused and watched Mason get a yard through the
+Brown's left tackle. "Only, if I don't, I suppose I won't get my E."
+
+"Oh, yes, you will. The Artmouth game counts, you know."
+
+"I wasn't in it."
+
+"That's so, you weren't; I'd forgotten. But I think you'll get it, just
+the--Good work, Gale!" Paul had made four yards outside of tackle, and
+it was again Erskine's first down on the fifty-five-yard line. The
+cheers from the north stand were continuous; Neil and Stone were obliged
+to put their heads together to hear what each other said.
+
+For five minutes longer Erskine's wonderful good fortune continued, and
+the ball was at length on Robinson's twenty-eight yards near the north
+side-line. Foster was waving his hand entreatingly toward the seats,
+begging for a chance to make his signals heard. From across the field,
+in the sudden comparative stillness of the north stand, thundered the
+confident slogan of Robinson. The brown-stockinged captain and
+quarter-back was shouting incessantly:
+
+"Steady now, fellows! Break through! Break through! Smash 'em up!" He
+ran from one end to the other, thumping each encouragingly on the back,
+whispering threats and entreaties into their ears. "Now, then, Robinson,
+let's stop 'em right here!"
+
+Foster, red-faced and hoarse, leaned forward, patted Stowell on the
+thigh, caught the ball, passed it quickly to Mason as that youth plunged
+for the line, and then threw himself into the breach, pushing, heaving,
+fighting for every inch that gave under his torn and scuffled shoes.
+
+"Second down; four to gain!"
+
+Robinson was awake now to her danger. Foster saw the futility of further
+attempts at the line for the present and called for a run around left
+end. The ball went to Pearse, but Bloch for once was ready for him, and,
+getting by Kendall, nailed the runner prettily four yards back of the
+line to the triumphant pæans of the south stand.
+
+When the teams had again lined up Foster dropped back as though to try a
+kick for goal, a somewhat difficult feat considering the angle. The
+Robinson captain was alarmed; he was ready to believe that a team who
+had already sprung one surprise on him was capable of securing goals
+from any angle whatever; his voice arose in hoarse entreaty:
+
+"Get through and block this kick, fellows! Get through! Get through!"
+
+"_Signal_!" cried Foster. "_44--18--23!_"
+
+The ball flew back from Stowell and Foster caught it breast-high. The
+Erskine line held for a moment, then the blue-clad warriors came
+plunging through desperately, and had Foster attempted a kick the ball
+would never have gone ten feet; but Foster, who knew his limitations in
+the kicking line as well as any one else, had entertained no such idea.
+The pigskin, fast clutched to Paul's breast, was already circling the
+Brown's left end. Devoe had put his opponent out of the play, thereby
+revenging himself for like treatment in the first half, and Pearse, a
+veritable whirlwind, had bowled over the Robinson left half. There is,
+perhaps, no prettier play than a fake kick, when it succeeds, and the
+friends of Erskine recognized the fact and showed their appreciation in
+a way that threatened to shake the stand from its foundations.
+
+Paul and Pearse were circling well out in the middle of the field toward
+the Robinson goal, now some thirty yards distant measured by white
+lines, but far more than that by the course they were taking. Behind
+them streamed a handful of desperate runners; before them, rapidly
+getting between them and the goal, sped White, the Robinson captain and
+quarter. To the spectators a touch-down looked certain, for it was one
+man against two; the pursuit was not dangerous. But to Paul it seemed at
+each plunge a more forlorn attempt. So far he had borne more than his
+share of the punishment sustained by the tackle-tandem defense; he had
+worked hard on offense since the present half began, and now, wearied
+and aching in every bone and muscle, he found himself scarce able to
+keep pace with his interference.
+
+He would have yielded the ball to Pearse had he been able to tell the
+other to take it; but his breath was too far gone for speech. So he
+plunged onward, each step slower than that before, his eyes fixed on the
+farthest white streak. From three sides of the great field poured forth
+the resonance of twelve thousand voices, triumphant, despairing,
+appealing, inciting, the very acme of sound.
+
+Yet Paul vows that he heard nothing save the beat of Pearse's footsteps
+and the awful pounding of his own heart.
+
+On the fifteen-yard line, just to the left of the goal, the critical
+moment came. White, with clutching, outstretched hands, strove to evade
+Pearse's shoulder, and did so. But the effort cost him what he gained,
+for, dodging Pearse and striving to make a sudden turn toward Paul, his
+foot slipped and he measured his length on the turf; and ere he had
+regained his feet the pursuit passed over him. Pearse met the first
+runner squarely and both went down. At the same instant Paul threw up
+one hand blindly and fell across the last line.
+
+On the north stand hats and flags sailed through the air. The south
+stand was silent.
+
+Paul lay unmoving where he had fallen. Simson was at his side in a
+moment. Neil, his heart thumping with joy, watched anxiously from the
+bench. Presently the group dissolved and Paul emerged between Simson and
+Browning, white of face and stumbling weakly on his legs, but grinning
+like a jovial satyr. Mills turned to the bench and Neil's heart jumped
+into his throat; but it was Smith and not he who struggled feverishly
+out of his sweater, donned a head-harness, and sped on to the field.
+Neil sighed and sank back.
+
+"Next time," said Stone sympathetically. But Neil shook his head.
+
+"I guess there isn't going to be any 'next time,'" he said dolefully.
+"Time's nearly up."
+
+"Not a bit of it; the last ten minutes is longer than all the rest of
+the game," answered Stone. "I wonder who'll try the goal."
+
+"We've got to have it," said Neil. "Surely Devoe can kick an easy one
+like that! Why, it's dead in the center!" Stone shook his head.
+
+"I know, but Bob's got a bad way of getting nervous times like this. He
+knows that if he misses we've lost the game, unless we can manage to
+score again, which isn't likely; and it's dollars to doughnuts he
+doesn't come anywhere near it!"
+
+Paul staggered up to the bench, Simson carefully wrapping a blanket
+about him, and the fellows made room for him a little way from where
+Neil sat. He stretched his long legs out gingerly because of the aches,
+sighed contentedly, and looked about him. His eyes fell on Neil.
+
+"Hello, chum!" he said weakly. "Haven't you gone in yet?"
+
+"Not yet," answered Neil cheerfully. "How are you feeling?"
+
+"Oh, I'm--ouch!--I'm all right; a bit sore here and there."
+
+"Devoe's going to kick," said Stone uneasily.
+
+The ball had been brought out, and now Foster was holding it directly in
+front of the center of the cross-bar. The south stand was cheering and
+singing wildly in a desperate attempt to rattle the Erskine captain. The
+latter looked around once, and the Robinson supporters, taking that as a
+sign of nervousness, redoubled their noise.
+
+"Muckers!" groaned Neil. Stone grinned.
+
+"Everything goes with them," he said.
+
+The referee's hand went down, Devoe stepped forward, the blue-clad line
+leaped into the field, and the ball sped upward. As it fell Neil turned
+to Stone and the two stared at each other in doubt. From both stands
+arose a confused roar. Then their eyes sought the score-board at the
+west end of the field and they groaned in unison.
+
+"NO GOAL."
+
+"What beastly luck!" muttered Stone.
+
+Neil was silent. Mills and Jones were standing near by and looking
+toward the bench and Neil imagined they were discussing him. He watched
+breathlessly, then his heart gave a suffocating leap and he was racing
+toward the two coaches.
+
+"Warm up, Fletcher."
+
+That was all, but it was all Neil asked for. In a twinkling he was
+trotting along the line, stretching his cramped legs and arms. As he
+passed the bench he tried to look unconcerned, but the row of kindly,
+grinning faces told him that his delight was common property. Paul
+silently applauded.
+
+Meanwhile the teams had again faced each other. Twelve minutes of play
+remained and the score-board said: Erskine 5, Opponents 6. Both elevens
+had made changes. For Erskine, Graham, immense of bulk but slow, had
+replaced Stowell at center, and Reardon was in Foster's position.
+Robinson had put in new men at left tackle, right end, and full-back.
+The game went on again.
+
+Devoe got the kick-off and brought the ball back to his thirty yards;
+but he was injured when thrown and Bell took his place. Smith and Mason
+each made two yards around the ends and Pearse got through left-guard
+for one. Then a plunge at right tackle resulted disastrously, Mason
+being forced back three yards, and Smith took the pigskin for a try
+outside of right tackle. He was stopped easily and Mason kicked.
+Robinson got the ball on her fifty yards and ran it back to Erskine's
+forty-three. Once more the tackle-tandem was brought into play. Smith
+failed to stop it, and the head of the defense was given to Pearse; but
+Robinson's new left tackle was a good man, and yard by yard Erskine was
+borne back toward her goal. The south stand blossomed anew with brown
+silk and bunting.
+
+On her thirty yards Erskine was penalized for off-side and the ball was
+almost under her goal. The first fierce plunge of the tandem broke the
+Purple line in twain and the backs went through for three yards. Mason
+was hurt and the whistle shrilled. A cheer arose from the north stand
+and a youth running into the field from the side-line heard it with
+fast-beating heart.
+
+"_Erskine! Erskine! Erskine! Rah-rah-rah, rah-rah-rah, rah-rah-rah!
+Fletcher! Fletcher! Fletcher!_"
+
+Mason was taken off, protesting feebly, and on the next plunge of the
+tackle-tandem Neil, with Pearse behind him, brought hope back to Erskine
+hearts, for the "antidote" worked to perfection again. All the pent-up
+strength and enthusiasm of Neil's body and heart were turned loose, and
+he played, as he had known he could if given the opportunity, as he had
+never played before, either at Erskine or Hillton. The spirit of battle
+held him; he was perfectly happy, and every knock and bruise brought him
+joy rather than pain. His chance had come to prove to both the coaches
+and the fellows that their first estimate of him was the correct one.
+
+Robinson made her distance and gained the twenty-yard line by a trick
+play outside of left tackle; but that was all she did on that occasion,
+for in the next three downs she failed to advance the ball a single
+inch, and it went to Erskine. Neil dropped back and the pigskin settled
+into his ready hands. When it next touched earth it was in Robinson's
+possession on her own fifty yards. That punt brought a burst of applause
+from the north seats. Robinson tried tackle-tandem again and Neil and
+Pearse stopped it short. Again, and again there was no advance; but when
+Neil picked himself out of the pile-up he made the discovery that
+something was radically wrong with his right arm and shoulder. He sat
+down on the trampled turf to think it over and closed his eyes. He heard
+the whistle and Reardon's voice above him:
+
+"Hurt?"
+
+Neil looked up and shook his head. His gaze fell on Simson headed toward
+him followed by the water-carrier. He staggered to his feet, Reardon's
+arm about him.
+
+"Keep 'Baldy' away," he muttered. "I'm all right; but don't let him get
+to me."
+
+Reardon looked at his white face for a second in doubt. Simson was
+almost up to them. He wanted to win, did Reardon, and--
+
+"All right here," he cried.
+
+Neil went to his place, Simson retreated, suspicion written all over his
+face, and the whistle sounded.
+
+Neil met the next attack with his left shoulder fore-most. And it was
+Erskine's ball on Robinson's fifty-yards.
+
+On the first try around the Brown's left end Smith took the leather
+twenty yards, catching Bloch napping. The north stand was on its feet in
+an instant. Cheer after cheer broke forth encouraging the Purple
+warriors to fight their way across those six remaining white lines and
+wrest victory from defeat. But there was no time to struggle over the
+thirty yards that intervened. A long run might bring a touch-down if
+Erskine could again get a back around an end, but two minutes was too
+short a time for line-bucking; and, besides, Reardon had his orders.
+
+On the side-line the timekeeper was keeping a careful eye upon his
+stop-watch.
+
+A try by Neil outside of right tackle netted but a yard and left him
+half fainting on the ground. Pearse set off for the left end of the line
+on the next play, but never reached it; the Robinson right tackle got
+through on to him and stopped him well back of his line.
+
+"Third down," called the referee, "five to gain!"
+
+The teams were lined up about half-way between the Robinson goal and the
+south side of the field, the ball just inside the thirty-yard line.
+Reardon had been directed to try for a field-goal as soon as he got
+inside the twenty-five yards. This was only the thirty yards, and the
+angle was severe. There was perhaps one chance in three of making a goal
+from placement; a drop-kick was out of the question. Moreover, to make
+matters more desperate, Neil was injured; just how badly Reardon didn't
+know, but the other's white, drawn face told its own story. If the
+attempt failed he would be held to blame by the coaches, if it succeeded
+he would be praised for good generalship; it was a way coaches had. His
+consideration of the problem lasted but a fraction of a minute. He
+glanced at Neil and their eyes met. The quarter-back's mind was made up
+on the instant.
+
+"_Signal_!" he cried. "_Steady, fellows; we want this; every one hold
+hard_!"
+
+He trotted back to the thirty-five-yard line and dropped to his knees,
+directly behind and almost facing center. Neil took up his position
+three yards from him and facing the goal. Pearse and Smith stood guard
+between him and the line. The Robinson right half turned and sped back
+to join the quarter, whose commands to "Get through and stop this kick!"
+were being shouted lustily from his position near the goal-line.
+
+"Signal!" Reardon repeated. Graham stooped over the ball. Neil, pale but
+with a little smile about his mouth, measured his distance. Victory
+depended upon him. From where Reardon knelt to the goal was nearly forty
+yards on a straight line and the angle was severe. If he made it, well
+and good; if he missed--He recalled what Mills had told him ere he
+sent him in:
+
+"I think you can win this for us, Fletcher. Once inside their
+twenty-five Reardon will give you the ball for a kick from drop or
+placement, as you think best. Whatever happens, don't let your nerves
+get the best of you. If you miss, why, you've missed, that's all. Don't
+think the world's coming to an end because we've been beaten. A hundred
+years from now, when you and I aren't even memories, Erskine will still
+be turning out football teams. But if we can, we want to win. Just keep
+cool and do your level best, that's all we ask. Now get in there."
+
+Neil took a deep breath. He'd do his best. If the line held, the ball
+ought to go over. He was cool enough now, and although his shoulder
+seemed on fire, the smile about his mouth deepened and grew confident.
+Reardon stretched forth his hands.
+
+"_Signal!_" he cried for the third time; but no signal was forthcoming.
+Instead Graham sped the ball back to him, steady and true, and the
+Robinson line, almost caught napping, failed to charge until the oval
+had settled into Reardon's hands and had been placed upon the ground
+well cocked at the goal. Then the Brown's warriors broke through and
+bore down, big and ugly, upon Pearse and Smith; but Neil was stepping
+toward the ball; a long stride, a short one, a long one, and toe and
+pigskin came together. Pearse was down and Smith was shouldering
+valiantly at a big guard. Two blue-clad arms swept upward almost into
+the path of the rising ball; there was a confused sound of crashing
+bodies and rasping canvas, and then a Robinson man bounded against Neil
+and sent him reeling to earth.
+
+For an instant the desire to lie still and close his eyes was strong.
+But there was the ball! He rolled half over, and raising himself on his
+left hand looked eagerly toward the posts. The pigskin, turning lazily
+over and over, was still in flight. Straight for the goal it was
+speeding, but now it had begun to drop. Neil's heart stood still. Would
+it clear the cross-bar? It seemed scarcely possible, but even as despair
+seized him, for an instant the bar came between his straining eyes and
+the dropping ball!
+
+A figure with tattered purple sleeves near at hand leaped into the air,
+waving his arms wildly. On the stand across the field pandemonium
+broke loose.
+
+Neil closed his eyes.
+
+A moment later Simson found him there, sitting on the thirty-five-yard
+line, one arm hanging limply over his knee, his eyes closed, and his
+white face wreathed in smiles.
+
+Erskine 10, Opponents 6, said the score-board.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+AFTER THE BATTLE
+
+"You'll not get off so easily this time," said the doctor.
+
+"No, sir," replied Neil, striving to look concerned.
+
+He was back on the couch again, just where he had been four weeks
+previous, with his shoulder swathed about in bandages just as it had
+been then.
+
+"I can't see what you were thinking about," went on the other irritably,
+"to go on playing after you'd bust things up again."
+
+"No, sir--that is, I'm sure I don't know." Neil's tone was very meek,
+but the doctor nevertheless looked at him suspiciously.
+
+"Humph! Much you care, I guess. But, just the same, my fine fellow,
+it'll be Christmas before you have the use of that arm again. That'll
+give you time to see what an idiot you were."
+
+"Thank you, sir."
+
+The doctor smiled in spite of himself and looked away.
+
+[Illustration: Erskine vs. Robinson--The Second Half.]
+
+"Doesn't seem to have interfered with your appetite, anyhow," he said,
+glancing at the well-nigh empty tray on the chair.
+
+"No, sir; I--I tried not to eat much, but I was terribly hungry, Doc."
+
+"Oh, I guess you'll do." He picked up his hat; then he faced the couch
+again and its occupant. "The trouble with you chaps," he said severely,
+"is that as long as you've managed to get a silly old leather wind-bag
+over a fool streak of lime you think it doesn't matter how much you've
+broke yourselves to pieces."
+
+"Yes, it's very thoughtless of us," murmured Neil with deep
+contriteness.
+
+"Humph!" growled the doctor. "See you in the morning."
+
+When the door had closed Neil reached toward the tray and with much
+difficulty buttered a piece of Graham bread, almost the only edible
+thing left. Then he settled back against the pillows, not without
+several grimaces as the injured shoulder was moved, and contentedly ate
+it. He was very well satisfied. To be sure, a month of invalidism was
+not a pleasing prospect, but things might have been worse. And the end
+paid for all. Robinson had departed with trailing banners; the coaches
+and the whole college were happy; Paul was happy; Sydney was happy; he
+was happy himself. Certainly the bally shoulder--ouch!--hurt at times;
+but, then one can't have everything one wants. His meditations were
+interrupted by voices and footsteps outside the front door. He bolted
+the last morsel of bread and awaited the callers.
+
+These proved to be Paul and Sydney and--Neil stared--Tom Cowan.
+
+"Rah-rah-rah!" shouted Paul, slamming the door. "How are they coming,
+chum? Here's Burr and Cowan to make polite injuries after your
+inquiries--I mean inquiries--well, you know what I mean. Tom's been
+saying all sorts of nice things about your playing, and I think he'd
+like to shake hands with the foot that kicked that goal."
+
+Neil laughed and put out his hand. Cowan, grinning, took it.
+
+"It was fine, Fletcher," he said with genuine enthusiasm. "And, some
+way, I knew when I saw you drop back that you were going to put it over.
+I'd have bet a hundred dollars on it!"
+
+"Thunder, you were more confident than I was!" Neil laughed. "I wouldn't
+have bet more than thirty cents. Well, Board of Strategy, how did you
+like the game?"
+
+Sydney shook his head gravely.
+
+"I wouldn't care to go through it again," he answered. "I had all kinds
+of heart disease before the first half was over, and after that I was
+in a sort of daze; didn't know really whether it was football or
+Friday-night lectures."
+
+"You ought to have been at table to-night, chum," said Paul. "We made
+Rome howl. Mills made a speech, and so did Jones and 'Baldy,' and--oh,
+every one. It was fine!"
+
+"And they cheered a fellow named Fletcher for nearly five minutes,"
+added Sydney. "And--"
+
+"Hear 'em!" Cowan interrupted. From the direction of the yard came a
+long volley of cheers for Erskine. Dinner was over and the fellows were
+ready for the celebration; they were warming up.
+
+"Great times to-night," said Paul happily. "I wish you were going out to
+the field with us, Neil."
+
+"Maybe I will."
+
+"If you try it I'll strap you down," replied Paul indignantly. "By the
+way, Mills told me to announce his coming. He's terribly tickled, is
+Mills, although he doesn't say very much."
+
+"He's still wondering how you went stale before the game and then played
+the way you did," said Sydney. "However, I didn't say anything." He
+caught himself up and glanced doubtfully toward Cowan. "I don't know
+whether it's a secret?" He appealed to Neil, who was frowning across
+at him.
+
+"What's a secret?" demanded Paul.
+
+"Don't mind me," said Cowan. "It may be a secret, but I guessed it long
+ago, didn't I, Paul?"
+
+"What in thunder are you all talking about?" asked that youth, staring
+inquiringly from one to another. Sydney saw that he had touched on
+forbidden ground and now looked elaborately ignorant.
+
+"Oh, nothing, Paul," answered Neil. "When are you all going out to the
+field?"
+
+"But there is something," his chum protested warmly. "Now out with it.
+What is it, Cowan? What did you guess?"
+
+"Why, about Fletcher going stale so that you could get into the game,"
+answered Cowan, apparently ignorant of Neil's wrathful grimaces. "I
+guessed right away. Why--"
+
+"Oh, shut up, won't you?" Neil entreated. "Don't mind them, Paul;
+they're crazy. Sydney, you're an ass, if you only knew it."
+
+"But I thought he knew--" began Sydney.
+
+"No, I didn't know," said Paul, quietly, his eyes on Neil's averted
+face. "I--I must have been blind. It's plain enough now, of course. If I
+had known I wouldn't have taken the place."
+
+"You're all a set of idiots," muttered Neil.
+
+"I'm sorry I said anything," said Sydney, genuinely distressed.
+
+"I'm glad," said Paul. "I'm such a selfish brute that I can't see half
+an inch before my nose. Chum, all I've got to say--"
+
+"Shut up," cried Neil. "Listen, fellows, they're marching across the
+common. Some one help me to the window. I want to see."
+
+Paul strode to his side, and putting an arm under his shoulders lifted
+him to his feet. Sydney lowered the gas and the four crowded to the
+window. Across the common, a long dark column in the starlight, tramped
+all Erskine, and at the head marched the band.
+
+"Gee, what a crowd!" muttered Cowan.
+
+The head of the procession passed through the gate and turned toward the
+house, and the band struck up 'Neath the Elms of Old Erskine. Hundreds
+of voices joined in and the slow and stately song thundered up toward
+the star-sprinkled sky.
+
+Paul's arm was still around his room-mate; its clasp tightened a little.
+
+"Say, chum."
+
+"Well?" muttered Neil.
+
+"Thanks."
+
+"Oh, don't bother me," Neil grumbled. "Let's get out of this; they're
+stopping."
+
+Sydney had stolen, as noiselessly as one may on crutches, to the
+chandelier, and suddenly the gas flared up, sending a path of light
+across the street and revealing the three at the window. Neil,
+exclaiming and protesting, strove to draw back, but Paul held him fast.
+From the crowd outside came the deep and long-drawn _A-a-ay!_ and grew
+and spread up the line.
+
+And then the cheering began.
+
+
+
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+<html>
+<head>
+<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1">
+<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Behind the Line, by Ralph Henry Barbour</title>
+ <style type="text/css">
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+<body>
+<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, Behind the Line, by Ralph Henry Barbour,
+Illustrated by C. M. Relyea</h1>
+<pre>
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at <a href = "https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre>
+<p>Title: Behind the Line</p>
+<p>Author: Ralph Henry Barbour</p>
+<p>Release Date: September 30, 2004 [eBook #13556]</p>
+<p>Language: English</p>
+<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p>
+<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BEHIND THE LINE***</p>
+<br><br><h3>E-text prepared by Juliet Sutherland, Charlie Kirschner,<br>
+ and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team</h3><br><br>
+<hr class="full" noshade>
+<br>
+<a name="illus-000.jpg"></a>
+<p class="ctr"><a href="images/illus-000.jpg">
+<img src="images/illus-000.jpg" width="50%" alt=""></a><br>
+<b>A critical moment.</b></p>
+<br>
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h1>BEHIND THE LINE</h1>
+
+<h2>A Story of College<br>
+Life and Football
+</h2><br>
+
+<h4>BY</h4>
+<h3>RALPH HENRY BARBOUR</h3>
+<h5>AUTHOR OF THE HALF-BACK, CAPTAIN OF THE CREW, AND<br>
+FOR THE HONOR OF THE SCHOOL</h5>
+
+<h4><i>Illustrated by C.M. Relyea</i></h4>
+
+<p class="ctr"><img src="images/illus-002.png" width="15%" alt=""><br></p>
+
+
+<h4>1902</h4>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h4>TO</h4>
+<h3>MY MOTHER</h3>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2>PREFATORY NOTE</h2>
+
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+
+<center>The Author takes pleasure in acknowledging his indebtedness to<br>
+Mr. Lorin F. Deland, of Boston, for the football play described in Chapter XV.</center>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2>CONTENTS</h2>
+
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+
+<center>
+<table summary="">
+<tr>
+<td>CHAPTER</td>
+<td>&nbsp;</td>
+<td>&nbsp;</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="right">I.--</td>
+<td><a href="#CHAPTER_I">HEROES IN MOLESKIN</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="right">II.--</td>
+<td><a href="#CHAPTER_II">PAUL CHANGES HIS MIND</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="right">III.--</td>
+<td><a href="#CHAPTER_III">IN NEW QUARTERS</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="right">IV.--</td>
+<td><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">NEIL MAKES ACQUAINTANCES</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="right">V.--</td>
+<td><a href="#CHAPTER_V">AND SHOWS HIS METTLE</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="right">VI.--</td>
+<td><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">MILLS, HEAD COACH</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="right">VII.--</td>
+<td><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">THE GENTLE ART OF HANDLING PUNTS</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="right">VIII.--</td>
+<td><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">THE KIDNAPING</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="right">IX.--</td>
+<td><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">THE BROKEN TRICYCLE</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="right">X.--</td>
+<td><a href="#CHAPTER_X">NEIL MAKES THE VARSITY</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="right">XI.--</td>
+<td><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">THE RESULT OF A FUMBLE</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="right">XII.--</td>
+<td><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">ON THE HOSPITAL LIST</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="right">XIII.--</td>
+<td><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">SYDNEY STUDIES STRATEGY</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="right">XIV.--</td>
+<td><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">MAKES A CALL</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="right">XV.--</td>
+<td><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">AND TELLS OF A DREAM</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="right">XVI.--</td>
+<td><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">ROBINSON SENDS A PROTEST</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="right">XVII.--</td>
+<td><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">A PLAN AND A CONFESSION</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="right">XVIII.--</td>
+<td><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">NEIL IS TAKEN OUT</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="right">XIX.--</td>
+<td><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">ON THE EVE OF BATTLE</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="right">XX.--</td>
+<td><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">COWAN BECOMES INDIGNANT</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="right">XXI.--</td>
+<td><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">THE &quot;ANTIDOTE&quot; IS ADMINISTERED</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="right">XXII.--</td>
+<td><a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">BETWEEN THE HALVES</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="right">XXIII.--</td>
+<td><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">NEIL GOES IN</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="right">XXIV.--</td>
+<td><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">AFTER THE BATTLE</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+</center>
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTKATIONS</h2>
+
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+
+<center>
+<table summary="">
+<tr>
+<td><a href="#illus-000.jpg">A critical moment</a></td>
+<td align="right"><i>frontispiece</i></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>Getting settled</td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><a href="#illus-052.jpg">The vine swayed at every strain</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><a href="#illus-081.jpg">Hiding his face, he cried for help</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>&quot;I guess you've broken down,&quot; said Neil</td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><a href="#illus-152.jpg">Mills studied the diagram in silence</a></td>
+<td align="right"></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+</center>
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2>
+
+<h3>HEROES IN MOLESKIN</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>&quot;Third down, four yards to gain!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The referee trotted out of the scrimmage line and
+blew his whistle; the Hillton quarter-back crouched again
+behind the big center; the other backs scurried to their
+places as though for a kick.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>9--6--12!</i>&quot; called quarter huskily.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Get through!&quot; shrieked the St. Eustace captain.
+&quot;Block this kick!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>4--8!</i>&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The ball swept back to the full, the halves formed
+their interference, and the trio sped toward the right
+end of the line. For an instant the opposing ranks heaved
+and struggled; for an instant Hillton repelled the attack;
+then, like a shot, the St. Eustace left tackle hurtled
+through and, avoiding the interference, nailed the Hillton
+runner six yards back of the line. A square of the
+grand stand blossomed suddenly with blue, and St. Eustace's
+supporters, already hoarse with cheering and singing,
+once more broke into triumphant applause. The
+score-board announced fifteen minutes to play, and the
+ball went to the blue-clad warriors on Hillton's forty-yard
+line.</p>
+
+<p>Hillton and St. Eustace were once more battling for
+supremacy on the gridiron in their annual Thanksgiving
+Day contest. And, in spite of the fact that Hillton was
+on her own grounds, St. Eustace's star was in the ascendant,
+and defeat hovered dark and ominous over the Crimson.
+With the score 5 to 0 in favor of the visitors, with
+her players battered and wearied, with the second half
+of the game already half over, Hillton, outweighted and
+outplayed, fought on with the doggedness born of despair
+in an almost hopeless struggle to avert impending defeat.</p>
+
+<p>In the first few minutes of the first half St. Eustace
+had battered her way down the field, throwing her heavy
+backs through the crimson line again and again, until she
+had placed the pigskin on Hillton's three-yard line. There
+the Hillton players had held stubbornly against two attempts
+to advance, but on the third down had fallen victims
+to a delayed pass, and St. Eustace had scored her
+only touch-down. The punt-out had failed, however, and
+the cheering flaunters of blue banners had perforce to be
+content with five points.</p>
+
+<p>Then it was that Hillton had surprised her opponents,
+for when the Blue's warriors had again sought to hammer
+and beat their way through the opposing line they found
+that Hillton had awakened from her daze, and their gains
+were small and infrequent. Four times ere the half was
+at an end St. Eustace was forced to kick, and thrice, having
+by the hardest work and almost inch by inch fought
+her way to within scoring distance of her opponent's goal,
+she met a defense that was impregnable to her most desperate
+assaults. Then it was that the Crimson had waved
+madly over the heads of Hillton's shrieking supporters
+and hope had again returned to their hearts.</p>
+
+<p>In the second half Hillton had secured the ball on the
+kick-off, and, never losing possession of it, had struggled
+foot by foot to within fifteen yards of the Blue's goal.
+From there a kick from placement had been tried, but Gale,
+Hillton's captain and right half-back, had been thrown before
+his foot had touched the leather, and the St. Eustace
+right-guard had fallen on the ball. A few minutes later a
+fumble returned the pigskin to Hillton on the Blue's
+thirty-three yards, and once more the advance was taken
+up. Thrice the distance had been gained by plunges into
+the line and short runs about the ends, and once Fletcher,
+Hillton's left half, had got away safely for twenty yards.
+But on her eight-yard line, under the shadow of her goal,
+St. Eustace had held bravely, and, securing the ball on
+downs, punted it far down the field into her opponent's
+territory. Fletcher had run it back ten yards ere he was
+downed, and from there it had gone six yards further by
+one superb hurdle by the full-back. But St. Eustace had
+then held finely, and on the third down, as has been told,
+Hillton's fake-kick play had been demolished by the
+Blue's tackle, and the ball was once more in the hands
+of St. Eustace's big center rush.</p>
+
+<p>On the side-line, his hands in his pockets and his short
+brier pipe clenched firmly between his teeth, Gardiner,
+Hillton's head coach, watched grimly the tide of battle.
+Things had gone worse than he had anticipated. He had
+not hoped for too much--a tie would have satisfied him;
+a victory for Hillton had been beyond his expectations.
+St. Eustace far outweighed his team; her center was almost
+invulnerable and her back field was fast and heavy.
+But, despite the modesty of his expectations, Gardiner
+was disappointed. The plays that he had believed would
+prove to be ground-gainers had failed almost invariably.
+Neil Fletcher, the left half, on whom the head coach had
+placed the greatest reliance, had, with a single exception,
+failed to circle the ends for any distance. To be sure, the
+St. Eustace end rushes had proved more knowing than he
+had given them credit for being, and so the fault was,
+after all, not with Fletcher; but it was disappointing
+nevertheless.</p>
+
+<p>And, as is invariably the case, he saw where he had
+made mistakes in the handling of his team; realized, now
+that it was too late, that he had given too much attention
+to that thing, too little to this; that, as things had
+turned out, certain plays discarded a week before would
+have proved of more value than those substituted. He
+sighed, and moved down the line to keep abreast of the
+teams, now five yards nearer the Hillton goal.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Crozier must come out in a moment,&quot; said a voice
+beside him. He turned to find Professor Beck, the trainer
+and physical director. &quot;What a game he has put up, eh?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Gardiner nodded.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Best quarter in years,&quot; he answered. &quot;It'll weaken
+us considerably, but I suppose it's necessary.&quot; There
+was a note of interrogation in the last, and the professor
+heard it.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, yes, quite,&quot; he replied. &quot;The boy's on his last
+legs.&quot; Gardiner turned to the line of substitutes behind
+them.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Decker!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The call was taken up by those nearest at hand, and
+the next instant a short, stockily-built youth was peeling
+off his crimson sweater. The referee's whistle blew,
+and while the mound of squirming players found their
+feet again, Gardiner walked toward them, his hand on
+Decker's shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Play slow and steady your team, Decker,&quot; he counseled.
+&quot;Use Young and Fletcher for runs; try them
+outside of tackle, especially on the right. Give Gale a
+chance to hit the line now and then and diversify
+your plays well. And, my boy, if you get that ball
+again, and of course you will, <i>don't let it go</i>! Give up
+your twenty yards if necessary, only hang on to the
+leather!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then he thumped him encouragingly on the back and
+sped him forward. Crozier, the deposed quarter-back,
+was being led off by Professor Beck. The boy was pale
+of face and trembling with weariness, and one foot
+dragged itself after the other limply. But he was protesting
+with tears in his eyes against being laid off, and
+even the hearty cheers for him that thundered from the
+stand did not comfort him. Then the game went on, the
+tide of battle flowing slowly, steadily, toward the Crimson's
+goal.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If only they don't score again!&quot; said Gardiner.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's the best we can hope for,&quot; said Professor
+Beck.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes; it's turned out worse than I expected.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, you can comfort yourself with the knowledge
+that they've played as plucky a game against odds as I
+ever expect to see,&quot; answered the other. &quot;And we won't
+say die yet; there's still&quot;--he looked at his watch--
+there's still eight minutes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's good; I hope Decker will remember what I
+told him about runs outside right tackle,&quot; muttered Gardiner
+anxiously. Then he relighted his pipe and, with
+stolid face, watched events.</p>
+
+<p>St. Eustace was still hammering Hillton's line at the
+wings. Time and again the Blue's big full-back plunged
+through between guard and tackle, now on this side, now
+on that, and Hillton's line ever gave back and back, slowly,
+stubbornly, but surely.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;First down,&quot; cried the referee. &quot;Five yards to
+gain.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The pigskin now lay just midway between Hillton's
+ten-and fifteen-yard lines. Decker, the substitute quarter-back,
+danced about under the goal-posts.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now get through and break it up, fellows!&quot; he
+shouted. &quot;Get through! Get through!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But the crimson-clad line men were powerless to
+withstand the terrific plunges of the foe, and back
+once more they went, and yet again, and the ball was on
+the six-yard line, placed there by two plunges at right
+tackle.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;First down!&quot; cried the referee again.</p>
+
+<p>Then Hillton's cup of sorrow seemed overflowing.
+For on the next play the umpire's whistle shrilled, and
+half the distance to the goal-line was paced off. Hillton
+was penalized for holding, and the ball was on her three
+yards!</p>
+
+<p>From the section of the grand stand where the crimson
+flags waved came steady, entreating, the wailing slogan:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Hold, Hillton! Hold, Hillton! Hold, Hillton!</i>&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Near at hand, on the side-line, Gardiner ground his
+teeth on the stem of his pipe and watched with expressionless
+face. Professor Beck, at his side, frowned anxiously.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Put it over, now!&quot; cried the St. Eustace captain.
+&quot;Tear them up, fellows!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The quarter gave the signal, the two lines smashed together,
+and the whistle sounded. The ball had advanced
+less than a yard. The Hillton stand cheered hoarsely,
+madly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Line up! Line up!&quot; cried the Blue's quarter. &quot;Signal!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then it was that St. Eustace made her fatal mistake.
+With the memory of the delayed pass which had won St.
+Eustace her previous touch-down in mind, the Hillton
+quarter-back was on the watch.</p>
+
+<p>The ball went back, was lost to view, the lines heaved
+and strained. Decker shot to the left, and as he reached
+the end of the line the St. Eustace left half-back came
+plunging out of the throng, the ball snuggled against his
+stomach. Decker, just how he never knew, squirmed past
+the single interferer, and tackled the runner firmly about
+the hips. The two went down together on the seven
+yards, the blue-stockinged youth vainly striving to squirm
+nearer to the line, Decker holding for all he was worth.
+Then the Hillton left end sat down suddenly on the runner's
+head and the whistle blew.</p>
+
+<p>The grand stand was in an uproar, and cheers for
+Hillton filled the air. Gardiner turned away calmly and
+knocked the ashes from his pipe. Professor Beck beamed
+through his gold-rimmed glasses. Decker picked himself
+up and sped back to his position.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Signal</i>!&quot; he cried. But a St. Eustace player called
+for time and the whistle piped again.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If Decker tries a kick from there it'll be blocked, and
+they'll score again,&quot; said Gardiner. &quot;Our line can't hold.
+There's just one thing to do, but I fear Decker won't
+think of it.&quot; He caught Gale's eye and signaled the captain
+to the side-line.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What is it?&quot; panted that youth, taking the nose-guard
+from his mouth and tenderly nursing a swollen lip.
+Gardiner hesitated. Then--</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nothing. Only fight it out, Gale. You've got your
+chance now!&quot; Gale nodded and trotted back. Gardiner
+smiled ruefully. &quot;The rule against coaching from the
+side-lines may be a good one,&quot; he muttered, &quot;but I guess
+it's lost this game for us.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The whistle sounded and the lines formed again.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;First down,&quot; cried the referee, jumping nimbly out
+of the way. Decker had been in conference with the full-back,
+and now he sprang back to his place.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Signal!&quot; he cried. &quot;<i>14--7--31</i>!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The Hillton full stood just inside the goal-line and
+stretched his hands out.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>16--8</i>!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The center passed the pigskin straight and true to the
+full-back, but the latter, instead of kicking it, stood as
+though bewildered while the St. Eustace forwards plunged
+through the Hillton line as though it had been of paper.
+The next moment he was thrown behind his goal-line
+with the ball safe in his arms, and Gardiner, on the side-line,
+was smiling contentedly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Touch-back,&quot; cried Decker. &quot;Line up on the
+twenty yards, fellows!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Hillton's ruse had won her a free kick, and in another
+moment the ball was arching toward the St. Eustace goal.
+The Blue's left half secured it, but was downed on his
+forty yards. The first attack netted four yards through
+Hillton's left-guard, and the crimson flags drooped on
+their staffs. On the next play St. Eustace's full-back
+hurdled the line for two yards, but lost the pigskin, and
+amid frantic cries of &quot;Ball! Ball!&quot; Fletcher, Hillton's
+left half, dropped upon it. The crimson banners waved
+again, and Hillton voices once more took up the refrain of
+Hilltonians, while hope surged back into loyal hearts.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Five minutes to play,&quot; said Professor Beck. Gardiner
+nodded.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Time enough to win in,&quot; he answered.</p>
+
+<p>Decker crouched again, chanted his signal, and the
+Hillton full plunged at the blue-clad line. But only a
+yard resulted.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Signal</i>!&quot; cried the quarter. &quot;<i>8--51--16--5</i>!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The ball came back into his waiting hands, was thrown
+at a short pass to the left half, and, with right half showing
+the way and full-back charging along beside, Fletcher
+cleared the line through a wide gap outside of St. Eustace's
+right tackle and sped down the field while the Hillton
+supporters leaped to their feet and shrieked wildly.
+The full-back met the St. Eustace right half, and the two
+were left behind on the turf. Beside Fletcher, a little in
+advance, ran the Hillton captain and right half-back, Paul
+Gale. Between them and the goal, now forty yards away,
+only the St. Eustace quarter remained, but behind them
+came pounding footsteps that sounded dangerous.</p>
+
+<p>Gardiner, followed by the professor and a little army
+of privileged spectators, raced along the line.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He'll make it,&quot; muttered the head coach. &quot;They
+can't stop him!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>One line after another went under the feet of the two
+players. The pursuit was falling behind. Twenty yards
+remained to be covered. Then the waiting quarter-back,
+white-faced and desperate, was upon them. But Gale was
+equal to the emergency.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;To the left!&quot; he panted.</p>
+
+<p>Fletcher obeyed with weary limbs and leaden feet,
+and without looking knew that he was safe. Gale and
+the St. Eustace player went down together, and in another
+moment Fletcher was lying, faint but happy, over
+the line and back of the goal!</p>
+
+<p>The stands emptied themselves on the instant of their
+triumphant burden of shouting, cheering, singing Hilltonians,
+and the crimson banners waved and fluttered on to
+the field. Hillton had escaped defeat!</p>
+
+<p>But Fortune, now that she had turned her face toward
+the wearers of the Crimson, had further gifts to bestow.
+And presently, when the wearied and crestfallen
+opponents had lined themselves along the goal-line,
+Decker held the ball amid a breathless silence, and Hillton's
+right end sent it fair and true between the uprights:
+Hillton, 6; Opponents, 5.</p>
+
+<p>The game, so far as scoring went, ended there. Four
+minutes later the whistle shrilled for the last time, and
+the horde of frantic Hilltonians flooded the field and, led
+by the band, bore their heroes in triumph back to the
+school. And, side by side, at the head of the procession,
+perched on the shoulders of cheering friends, swayed the
+two half-backs, Neil Fletcher and Paul Gale.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2>
+
+<h3>PAUL CHANGES HIS MIND</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>Two boys were sitting in the first-floor corner study
+in Haewood's. Those who know the town of Hillton,
+New York, will remember Haewood's as the large residence
+at the corner of Center and Village Streets, from
+the big bow-window of which the occupant of the cushioned
+seat may look to the four points of the compass or
+watch for occasional signs of life about the court-house
+diagonally across. To-night--the bell in the tower of the
+town hall had just struck half after seven--the occupants
+of the corner study were interested in things other than
+the view.</p>
+
+<p>I have said that they were sitting. Lounging would
+be nearer the truth; for one, a boy of eighteen years, with
+merry blue eyes and cheeks flushed ruddily with health
+and the afterglow of the day's excitement, with hair just
+the color of raw silk that took on a glint of gold where
+the light fell upon it, was perched cross-legged amid the
+cushions at one end of the big couch, two strong, tanned,
+and much-scarred hands clasping his knees. His companion
+and his junior by but two months, a dark-complexioned
+youth with black hair and eyes and a careless,
+good-natured, but rather wilful face, on which at the
+present moment the most noticeable feature was a badly
+cut and much swollen lower lip, lay sprawled at the other
+end of the couch, his chin buried in one palm.</p>
+
+<p>Both lads were well built, broad of chest, and long of
+limb, with bright, clear eyes, and a warmth of color that
+betokened the best of physical condition. They had been
+friends and room-mates for two years. This was their last
+year at Hillton, and next fall they were to begin their
+college life together. The dark-complexioned youth
+rolled lazily on to his back and stared at the ceiling.
+Then--</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I suppose Crozier will get the captaincy, Neil.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The boy with light hair nodded without removing his
+gaze from the little flames that danced in the fireplace.
+They had discussed the day's happenings thoroughly, had
+relived the game with St. Eustace from start to finish, and
+now the big Thanksgiving dinner which they had eaten
+was beginning to work upon them a spell of dormancy. It
+was awfully jolly, thought Neil Fletcher, to just lie there
+and watch the flames and--and--He sighed comfortably
+and closed his eyes. At eight o'clock he, with the
+rest of the victorious team, was to be drawn about the
+town in a barge and cheered at, but meanwhile there was
+time to just close his eyes--and forget--everything--</p>
+
+<p>There was a knock at the study door.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Go 'way!&quot; grunted Neil.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, come in,&quot; called Paul Gale, without, however,
+removing his drowsy gaze from the ceiling or changing his
+position.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I beg your pardon. I am looking for Mr. Gale,
+and--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Paul dropped his legs over the side of the couch and
+sat up, blinking at the visitor. Neil followed his example.
+The caller was a carefully dressed man of
+about thirty-five, scarcely taller than Neil, but broader
+of shoulder. Paul recognized him, and, rising, shook
+hands.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How do you do, Mr. Brill? Glad to see you. Sit
+down, won't you? I guess we were both pretty nigh
+asleep when you knocked.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Small wonder,&quot; responded the visitor affably.
+&quot;After the work you did this afternoon you deserve
+sleep, and anything else you want.&quot; He laid aside his coat
+and hat and sank into the chair which Paul proffered.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;By the way,&quot; continued the latter, &quot;I don't think
+you've met my friend, Neil Fletcher. Neil, this is Mr.
+Brill, of Robinson; one of their coaches.&quot; The two shook
+hands.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm delighted to meet the hero--I should say one
+of the heroes--of the day,&quot; said Mr. Brill. &quot;That run
+was splendid; the way in which you two fellows got your
+speed up before you reached the line was worth coming
+over here to see, really it was.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, Paul set a pretty good pace,&quot; answered Neil.</p>
+
+<p>The visitor discussed the day's contest for a few minutes,
+during which Neil glanced uneasily from time to
+time at the clock, wondered what the visitor wanted there,
+and heartily wished he'd take himself off. But presently
+Mr. Brill got down to business.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You know we've had a little victory in football ourselves
+this fall,&quot; he was saying. &quot;We won from Erskine
+by 17 to 6 last week, and we're feeling rather stuck up
+over it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Wait till next year,&quot; said Neil to himself, &quot;and
+you'll get over it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And that,&quot; continued the coach, &quot;brings me to the
+object of my call tonight. Frankly, we want you two
+fellows at Robinson College, and I'm here to see if we
+can't have you.&quot; He paused and smiled engagingly at
+the boys. Neil glanced surprisedly at Paul, who was
+thoughtfully examining the scars on his knuckles.
+&quot;Don't decide until I've explained matters more clearly,&quot;
+went on the visitor. &quot;Perhaps neither of you have been
+to Collegetown, but at least you know about where Robinson
+stands in the athletic world, and you know that as
+an institution of learning it is in the front rank of the
+smaller colleges; in fact, in certain lines it might dispute
+the place of honor with some of the big ones.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;To the fellow who wants a college where he can
+learn and where, at the same time, he can give some
+attention to athletics, Robinson's bound to recommend
+itself. I mention this because you know as well as I do
+that there are colleges--I mention no names--where a
+born football player, such as either of you, would simply
+be lost; where he would be tied down by such stringent
+rules that he could never amount to anything on the gridiron.
+I don't mean to say that at Robinson the faculty is
+lax regarding standing or attendance at lectures, but I do
+say that it holds common-sense views on the subject of college
+athletics, and does not hound a man to death simply
+because he happens to belong to the football eleven or
+the crew.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Robinson is always on the lookout for first-class football,
+baseball, or rowing material, and she believes in
+offering encouragement to such material. She doesn't
+favor underhand methods, you understand; no hiring of
+players, no free scholarships--though there are plenty of
+them for those who will work for them--none of that sort
+of thing. But she is willing to meet you half-way. The
+proposition which I am authorized to make is briefly
+this&quot;--the speaker leaned forward, smiling frankly, and
+tapped a forefinger on the palm of his other hand--&quot;If
+you, Mr. Gale, and you, Mr. Fletcher, will enter Robinson
+next September, the--ah--the athletic authorities
+will guarantee you positions on the varsity eleven. Besides
+this, you will be given free tutoring for the entrance
+exams, and afterward, so long as you remain on the team,
+in any studies with which you may have difficulty. Now,
+there is a fair, honest proposition, and one which I sincerely
+trust you will accept. We want you both, and
+we're willing to do all that we can--in honesty, that is--to
+get you. Now, what do you say?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>During this recital Neil's dislike of the speaker had
+steadily increased, and now, under the other's smiling
+regard, he had difficulty in keeping from his face some
+show of his emotions. Paul looked up from his scarred
+knuckles and eyed Neil furtively before he turned to the
+coach.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Of course,&quot; he said, &quot;this is rather unexpected.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The coach's eyes flickered for an instant with amusement.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;For my part,&quot; Neil broke in almost angrily, &quot;I'm
+due in September at Erskine, and unless Paul's changed
+his mind since yesterday so's he.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The Robinson coach raised his eyebrows in simulated
+surprise.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah,&quot; he said slowly, &quot;Erskine?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, Erskine,&quot; answered Neil rather discourteously.
+A faint flush of displeasure crept into Mr. Brill's cheeks,
+but he smiled as pleasantly as ever.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And your friend has contemplated ruining his football
+career in the same manner, has he?&quot; he asked politely,
+turning his gaze as he spoke on Paul. The latter
+fidgeted in his chair and looked over a trifle defiantly at
+his room-mate.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I had thought of going to Erskine,&quot; he answered.
+&quot;In fact&quot;--observing Neil's wide-eyed surprise at his
+choice of words--&quot;in fact, I had arranged to do so. But--but,
+of course, nothing has been settled definitely.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But, Paul--&quot; exclaimed Neil.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, I'm glad to hear that,&quot; interrupted Mr. Brill.
+&quot;For in my opinion it would simply be a waste of your
+opportunities and--ah--abilities, Mr. Gale.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, of course, if a fellow doesn't have to bother
+too much about studies,&quot; said Paul haltingly, &quot;he can do
+better work on the team; there can't be any question
+about that, I guess.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;None at all,&quot; responded the coach.</p>
+
+<p>Neil stared at his chum indignantly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You're talking rot,&quot; he growled. Paul flushed and
+returned his look angrily.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I suppose I have the right to manage my own affairs?&quot;
+he demanded. Neil realized his mistake and, with
+an effort, held his peace. Mr. Brill turned to him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I fear there's no use in attempting to persuade you
+to come to us also?&quot; he said. Neil shook his head silently.
+Then, realizing that Paul was quite capable, in his present
+fit of stubbornness, of promising to enter Robinson if
+only to spite his room-mate, Neil used guile.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Anyhow, September's a long way off,&quot; he said, &quot;and
+I don't see that it's necessary to decide to-night. Perhaps
+we had both better take a day or two to think it over. I
+guess Mr. Brill won't insist on a final answer to-night.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The Robinson coach hesitated, but then answered
+readily enough:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Certainly not. Think it over; only, if possible, let
+me hear your decision to-morrow, as I am leaving town
+then.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, as far as I'm concerned,&quot; said Paul, &quot;I don't
+see any use in putting it off. I'm willing--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil jumped to his feet. A burst of martial music
+swept up to them as the school band, followed by a host
+of their fellows, turned the corner of the building.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come on, Paul,&quot; he cried; &quot;get your coat on. Mr.
+Brill will excuse us if we leave him; we mustn't keep the
+fellows waiting. And we can think the matter over, eh,
+Paul? And we'll let him know in the morning. Here's
+your coat. Good-night, sir, good-night.&quot; He was holding
+the door open and smiling politely. Paul, scowling, arose
+and shook hands with the Robinson emissary. Neil kept
+up a steady stream of talk, and his chum could only mutter
+vague words about his pleasure at Mr. Brill's call and
+about seeing him to-morrow. When the door had closed
+behind him the coach stood a moment in the hall and
+thoughtfully buttoned his coat.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think I've got Gale all right,&quot; he said to himself,
+&quot;but&quot;--with a slight smile--&quot;the other chap was too
+smart for me. And, confound him, he's just the sort we
+need!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>When he reached the entrance he was obliged to elbow
+his way through a solid throng of shouting youths
+who with excited faces and waving caps and flags informed
+the starlight winter sky over and over that they
+wanted Gale and Fletcher, to which demand the band
+lent hearty if rather discordant emphasis.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+
+<p>A good deal happened in the next two hours, but nothing
+that is pertinent to this narrative. Victorious Hillton
+elevens have been hauled through the village and out to
+the field many times in past years, and bonfires have flared
+and speeches have been made by players and faculty, and
+all very much as happened on this occasion. Neil and
+Paul returned to their room at ten o'clock, tired, happy,
+with the cheers and the songs still echoing in their ears.</p>
+
+<p>Paul had apparently forgotten his resentment toward
+Neil and the whole matter of Brill's proposition. But
+Neil hadn't, and presently, when they were preparing for
+bed, he returned doggedly to the charge.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;When did you meet that fellow Brill?&quot; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;In Gardiner's room this morning; he introduced us.&quot;
+Paul began to look sulky again. &quot;Seems a decent sort,
+I think,&quot; he added defiantly. Neil accepted the challenge.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I dare say,&quot; he answered carelessly. &quot;There's only
+one thing I've got against him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What's that?&quot; questioned Paul suspiciously.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;His errand.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What's wrong with his errand?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Everything, Paul. You know as well as I that his
+offer is--well, it's shady, to say the least. Who ever heard
+of a decent college offering free tutoring in order to get
+fellows for its football team?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Lots of them do,&quot; growled Paul.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, they don't; not decent ones. Some do, I know;
+but they're not colleges a fellow cares to go to. Every
+one knows what rotten shape Robinson athletics are in;
+the papers have been full of it for two years. Their
+center rush this fall, Harden, just went there to play on
+the team, and everybody says that he got his tuition
+free. You don't want to play on a team like that and
+have people say things like that about you. I'm sure I
+don't.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, you!&quot; sneered Paul. &quot;You're getting crankier
+and crankier every day. I'll bet you're just huffy because
+Brill didn't ask you first.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil flushed, but kept his temper.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You don't think anything of the sort, Paul. Besides--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It looks that way,&quot; muttered Paul.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Besides,&quot; continued Neil calmly, &quot;what's the advantage
+in going to Robinson? We've arranged everything;
+we've got our rooms picked out at Erskine; there
+are lots of fellows there we know; the college is the best
+of its class and its athletics are honest. If you play on
+the Erskine team you'll be somebody, and folks won't
+hint that you're receiving money or free scholarships or
+something for doing it. And as for Brill's guarantee of
+a place on the team, why, there's only one decent way
+to get on a football team, and that's by good, hard work;
+and there's no reason for doubting that you'll make the
+Erskine varsity eleven.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, there is, too,&quot; answered Paul angrily.
+&quot;They've got lots of good players at Erskine, and you
+and I won't stand any better show than a dozen others.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't want to.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Huh! Well, I do; that is, I want to make the team.
+Besides, as Brill said, if a fellow has the faculty after
+him all the time about studies he can't do decent work
+on the team. I don't see anything wrong in it, and--and
+I'm going. I'll tell Brill so to-morrow!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil drew his bath-robe about him, and looked
+thoughtfully into the flames. So far he had lost, but he
+had one more card to play. He turned and faced Paul's
+angry countenance.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, if I should go to Robinson and play on her
+team under the conditions offered by that--by Brill I'd
+feel disgraced.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You'd better stay away, then,&quot; answered Paul hotly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I wouldn't want to show my face around Hillton
+afterward, and if I met Gardiner or 'Wheels' I'd take
+the other side of the street.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, you would?&quot; cried his room-mate. &quot;You're
+trying to make yourself out a little fluffy angel, aren't
+you? And I suppose I'm not good enough to associate
+with you, am I? Well, if that's it, all I've got to
+say--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But,&quot; continued Neil equably, &quot;if you accept Brill's
+offer, so will I.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Paul paused open-mouthed and stared at his chum.
+Then his eyes dropped and he busied himself with a stubborn
+stocking. Finally, with a muttered &quot;Humph!&quot; he
+gathered up his clothing and disappeared into the bedroom.
+Neil turned and smiled at the flames and, finding
+his own apparel, followed. Nothing more was said. Paul
+splashed the water about even more than usual and tumbled
+silently into bed. Neil put out the study light and
+followed suit.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good-night,&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good-night,&quot; growled Paul.</p>
+
+<p>It had been a hard day and an exciting one, and Neil
+went to sleep almost as soon as his head touched the
+pillow. It seemed hours later, though in reality but some
+twenty minutes, that he was awakened by hearing his
+name called. He sat up quickly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hello! What?&quot; he shouted.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Shut up,&quot; answered Paul from across in the darkness.
+&quot;I didn't know you were asleep. I only wanted to
+say--to tell you--that--that I've decided not to go to
+Robinson!&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2>
+
+<h3>IN NEW QUARTERS</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>Almost every one has heard of Erskine College. For
+the benefit of the few who have not, and lest they confound
+it with Williams or Dartmouth or Bowdoin or some
+other of its New England neighbors, it may be well to
+tell something about it. Erskine College is still in its
+infancy, as New England universities go, with its centennial
+yet eight years distant. But it has its own share
+of historic associations, and although the big elm in the
+center of the campus was not planted until 1812 it has
+shaded many youths who in later years have by good
+deeds and great accomplishments endeared themselves to
+country and alma mater.</p>
+
+<p>In the middle of the last century, when Erskine was
+little more than an academy, it was often called &quot;the little
+green school at Centerport.&quot; It is not so little now,
+but it's greener than ever. Wide-spreading elms grow
+everywhere; in serried ranks within the college grounds,
+in smaller detachments throughout the village, in picket
+lines along the river and out into the country. The grass
+grows lush wherever it can gain hold, and, not content
+with having its own way on green and campus, is forever
+attempting the conquest of path and road. The
+warm red bricks of the college buildings are well-nigh
+hidden by ivy, which, too, is an ardent expansionist. And
+where neither grass nor ivy can subjugate, soft, velvety
+moss reigns humbly.</p>
+
+<p>In the year 1901, which is the period of this story, the
+enrolment in all departments at Erskine was close to
+six hundred students. The freshman class, as had been
+the case for many years past, was the largest in the history
+of the college. It numbered 180; but of this number
+we are at present chiefly interested in only two; and these
+two, at the moment when this chapter begins--which, to
+be exact, is eight o'clock of the evening of the twenty-fourth
+day of September in the year above mentioned--were
+busily at work in a first-floor study in the boarding-house
+of Mrs. Curtis on Elm Street.</p>
+
+<p>It were perhaps more truthful to say that one was
+busily at work and the other was busily advising and directing.
+Neil Fletcher stood on a small table, which
+swayed perilously from side to side at his every movement,
+and drove nails into an already much mutilated
+wall. Paul Gale sat in a hospitable armchair upholstered
+in a good imitation of green leather and nodded approval.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That'll do for 'Old Abe'; now hang The First Snow
+a bit to the left and underneath.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The First Snow hasn't any wire on it,&quot; complained
+Neil. &quot;See if you can't find some.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Wire's all gone,&quot; answered Paul. &quot;We'll have to
+get some more. Where's that list? Oh, here it is.
+'Item, picture wire.' I say, what in thunder's this you've
+got down--'Ring for waistband'?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Rug for wash-stand, you idiot! I guess we'll have to
+quit until we get some more wire, eh? Or we might hang
+a few of them with boot-laces and neckties?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, let's call it off. I'm tired,&quot; answered Paul with
+a grin. &quot;The room begins to look rather decent, doesn't
+it? We must change that couch, though; put it the other
+way so the ravelings won't show. And that picture
+of--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But just here Neil attempted to step from the table
+and landed in a heap on the floor, and Paul forgot criticism
+in joyful applause.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, noble work! Do it again, old man; I didn't see
+the take-off!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But Neil refused, and plumping himself into a wicker
+rocking-chair that creaked complainingly, rubbed the dust
+from his hands to his trousers and looked about the study
+approvingly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We're going to be jolly comfy here, Paul,&quot; he said.
+&quot;Mrs. Curtis is going to get a new globe for that fixture
+over there.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>[Illustration: Getting settled.]</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then we will be,&quot; said Paul. &quot;And if she would
+only find us a towel-rack that didn't fall into twelve separate
+pieces like a Chinese puzzle every time a chap put a
+towel on it we'd be simply reveling in luxury.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think I can fix that thing with string,&quot; answered
+Neil. &quot;Or we might buy one of those nickel-plated affairs
+that you screw into the wall.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The sort that always dump the towels on to the floor,
+you mean? Yes, we might. Of course, they're of no
+practical value judged as towel-racks, but they're terribly
+ornamental. You know we had one in the bath-room at
+the beach. Remember? When you got through your
+bath and groped round for the towel it was always lying
+on the floor just out of reach.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, I remember,&quot; answered Neil, smiling. &quot;We
+had rather a good time, didn't we, at Seabright? It was
+awfully nice of you to ask me down there, Paul; and
+your folks were mighty good to me. Next summer I
+want you to come up to New Hampshire and see us for
+a while. Of course, we can't give you sea bathing, and
+you won't look like a red Indian when you go home, but
+we could have a good time just the same.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Red Indian yourself!&quot; cried Paul. &quot;You're nearly
+twice as tanned as I am. I don't see how you did it. I
+was there pretty near all summer and you stayed just
+three weeks; and look at us! I'm as white as a sheet of
+paper--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, brown paper,&quot; interpolated Neil.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And you have a complexion like a--a football after
+a hard game.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil grinned, then--</p>
+
+<p>&quot;By the way,&quot; he said, &quot;did I tell you I'd heard from
+Crozier?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;About Billy and the ducks? And Gordon's not going
+back to Hillton? Yes, you got that at the beach; remember?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;So I did. 'Old Cro' will be up to his ears in trouble
+pretty soon, won't he? I'm glad they made him captain,
+awfully glad. I think he can turn out a team that'll rub
+it into St. Eustace again just as you did last year.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes; and Gardiner's going to coach again.&quot; Paul
+smiled reminiscently. Then, &quot;By Jove, it does seem
+funny not to be going back to old Hillton, doesn't it? I
+suppose after a while a fellow'll get to feeling at home
+here, but just at present--&quot; He sighed and shook his
+head.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Wait until college opens to-morrow and we get to
+work; we won't have much time to feel much of anything,
+I guess. Practise is called for four o'clock. I wonder--I
+wonder if we'll make the team?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why not?&quot; objected Paul. &quot;If I thought I wouldn't
+I think I'd pitch it all up and--and go to Robinson!&quot;
+He grinned across at his chum.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You stay here and you'll get a chance to go <i>at</i> Robinson;
+that's a heap more satisfactory.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, I'm going to make the varsity, Neil. I've
+set my heart on that, and what I make up my mind to
+do I sometimes most always generally do. I'm not
+troubling, my boy; I'll show them a few tricks about playing
+half-back that'll open their eyes. You wait and see!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil looked as though he was not quite certain as to
+that, but said nothing, and Paul went on:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I wonder what sort of a fellow this Devoe is?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, I've never seen him, but we know that he's
+about as good an end as there is in college to-day; and I
+guess he's bound to be the right sort or they wouldn't
+have made him captain.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He's a senior, isn't he?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes; he's played only two years, and they say he's
+going into the Yale Law School next year. If he does, of
+course he'll get on the team there. Well, I hope he'll
+take pity on two ambitious but unprotected freshmen
+and--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was a knock at the study door and Paul
+jumped forward and threw it open. A tall youth of
+twenty-one or twenty-two years of age stood in the doorway.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm looking for Mr. Gale and Mr. Fletcher. Have
+I hit it right?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm Gale,&quot; answered Paul, &quot;and that's Fletcher.
+Won't you come in?&quot; The visitor entered.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My name's Devoe,&quot; he explained smilingly. &quot;I'm
+captain of the football team this year, and as you two fellows
+are, of course, going to try for the team, I thought
+we'd better get acquainted.&quot; He accepted the squeaky
+rocking-chair and allowed Paul to take his straw hat.
+Neil thought he'd ought to shake hands, but as Devoe
+made no move in that direction he retired to another seat
+and grinned hospitably instead.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I've heard of the good work you chaps did for Hillton
+last year, and I was mighty glad when I learned from
+Gardiner that you were coming up here.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You know Gardiner?&quot; asked Neil.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, I've never met him, but of course every football
+man knows who he is. He wrote to me in the spring that
+you were coming, and rather intimated that if I knew
+my business I'd keep an eye on you and see that you
+didn't get lost in the shuffle. So here I am.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He didn't say anything about having written,&quot; pondered
+Neil.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, he wouldn't,&quot; answered Devoe. &quot;Well, how do
+you like us as far as you've seen us?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We only got here yesterday,&quot; replied Paul. &quot;I
+think it looks like rather a jolly sort of place; awfully
+pretty, you know, and--er--historic.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, it is pretty; historic too; and it's the finest
+young college in the country, bar none,&quot; answered Devoe.
+&quot;You'll like it when you get used to it. I like it
+so well I wish I wasn't going to leave it in the spring.
+Very cozy quarters you have here.&quot; He looked about
+the study.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They'll do,&quot; answered Neil modestly. &quot;Of course
+we couldn't get rooms in the Yard, and we liked this as
+well as anything we saw outside. The view's rather good
+from the windows.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, I know; you have the common and pretty much
+the whole college in sight; it is good.&quot; Devoe brought his
+gaze back and fixed it on Neil. &quot;You played left half,
+didn't you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What's your weight?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I haven't weighed this summer,&quot; answered Neil.
+&quot;In the spring I was a hundred and sixty-two.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good. We need some heavy backs. How about
+you, Gale?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;About a hundred and sixty.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Of course I haven't seen the new material yet,&quot; continued
+Devoe, &quot;but the last year's men we have are a
+bit light, take them all around. That's what beat us, you
+see; Robinson had an unusually heavy line and rather
+heavy backs. They plowed through us without trouble.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil studied the football captain with some interest.
+He saw a tall and fairly heavy youth, with well-set head
+and broad shoulders. He looked quite as fast on his feet
+as rumor credited him with being, and his dark eyes,
+sharp and steady in their regard, suggested both courage
+and ability to lead. His other features were strong, the
+nose a trifle heavy, the mouth usually unsmiling, the chin
+determined, and the forehead, set off by carefully brushed
+dark-brown hair, high and broad. After the first few
+moments of conversation Devoe devoted his attention
+principally to Neil, questioning him regarding Gardiner's
+coaching methods, about Neil's experience on the gridiron,
+as to what studies he was taking up. Occasionally
+he included Paul in the conversation, but that youth discovered,
+with surprise and chagrin, that he was apparently
+of much less interest to Devoe than was Neil. After
+a while he dropped out of the talk altogether, save when
+directly appealed to, and sat silent with an expression of
+elaborate unconcern. At the end of half an hour Devoe
+arose.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I must be getting on,&quot; he announced. &quot;I'm glad
+we've had this talk, and I hope you'll both come over
+some evening and call on me; I'm in Morris, No. 8.
+We've got our work cut out this fall, and I hope we'll
+all pull together.&quot; He smiled across at Paul, evidently
+unaware of having neglected that young gentleman in his
+conversation. &quot;Good-night. Four o'clock to-morrow is
+the hour.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I never met any one that could ask more questions
+than he can,&quot; exclaimed Neil when Devoe was safely out
+of hearing. &quot;But I suppose that's the way to learn, eh?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Paul yawned loudly and shrugged his shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Funny he should have come just when we were talking
+about him, wasn't it?&quot; Neil pursued. &quot;What do you
+think of him?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, if you ask me,&quot; Paul answered, &quot;I think he's
+a conceited, stuck-up prig!&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2>
+
+<h3>NEIL MAKES ACQUAINTANCES</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>Neil's and Paul's college life began early the next
+morning when, sitting side by side in the dim, hushed
+chapel, they heard white-haired Dr. Garrison ask for them
+divine aid and guidance. Splashes and flecks of purple
+and rose and golden light rested here and there on bowed
+head and shoulders or lay in shafts across the aisles.
+From where he sat Neil could look through an open window
+out into the morning world of greenery and sunlight.
+On the swaying branch of an elm that almost brushed the
+casement a thrush sang sweet and clear a matin of his
+own. Neil made several good resolutions that morning
+there in the chapel, some of which he profited by, all of
+which he sincerely meant. And even Paul, far less impressionable
+than his friend, looked uncommonly thoughtful
+all the way back to their room, a way that led through
+the elm-arched nave of College Place and across the common
+with its broad expanses of sun-flecked sward and its
+simple granite shaft commemorating the heroes of the
+civil war.</p>
+
+<p>At nine o'clock, with the sound of the pealing bell
+again in their ears, with their books under their arms and
+their hearts beating a little faster than usual with pleasurable
+excitement, they retraced their path and mounted
+the well-worn granite steps of College Hall for their first
+recitation. What with the novelty of it all the day passed
+quickly enough, and four o'clock found the two lads
+dressed in football togs and awaiting the beginning of
+practise.</p>
+
+<p>There were some sixty candidates in sight, boys--some
+of them men as far as years go--of all sizes and ages,
+several at the first glance revealing the hopelessness of
+their ambitions. The names were taken and fall practise
+at Erskine began.</p>
+
+<p>The candidates were placed on opposite sides of the
+gridiron, and half a dozen footballs were produced. Punting
+and catching punts was the order of the day, and Neil
+was soon busily at work. The afternoon was warm, but
+not uncomfortably so, the turf was springy underfoot, the
+sky was blue from edge to edge, the new men supplied
+plenty of amusement in their efforts, the pigskins bumped
+into his arms in the manner of old friends, and Neil was
+happy as a lark. After one catch for which he had to
+run back several yards, he let himself out and booted the
+leather with every ounce of strength. The ball sailed
+high in a long arching flight, and sent several men across
+the field scampering back into the grand stand for it.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I guess you've done that before,&quot; said a voice beside
+him. A short, stockily-built youth with a round, smiling
+face and blue eyes that twinkled with fun and good spirits
+was observing him shrewdly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; answered Neil, &quot;I have.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I thought so,&quot; was the reply. &quot;But you're a freshman,
+aren't you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; answered Neil, turning to let a low drive from
+across the gridiron settle into his arms. &quot;And I guess
+you're not.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, this is my third year. I've been on the team
+two.&quot; He paused to send a ball back, and then wiped the
+perspiration from his forehead. &quot;I was quarter last
+year.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh,&quot; said Neil, observing his neighbor with interest,
+&quot;then you're Foster?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's me. What are you trying for?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Half-back. I played three years at Hillton.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Of course; you're the fellow Bob Devoe was talking
+about--or one of them; I think he said there were two of
+you. Which one are you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm the other one,&quot; laughed Neil. &quot;I'm Fletcher.
+That's Gale over there, the fellow in the old red shirt;
+he was our captain at Hillton last year.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Foster looked across at Paul and then back at Neil.
+He was evidently comparing them. He shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It's a good thing he's got dark hair and you've got
+light,&quot; he said. &quot;Otherwise you wouldn't know yourselves
+apart; you're just of a height and build, and weight,
+too, I guess. Are you related?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No. But we are pretty much the same height and
+weight. He's half an inch taller, and I think I weigh two
+pounds more.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>In the intervals of catching and returning punts the
+acquaintance ripened. When, at the end of three-quarters
+of an hour, Devoe gave the order to quit and the
+trainer sent them twice about the gridiron on a trot, Neil
+found Foster ambling along beside him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Phew!&quot; exclaimed the latter. &quot;I guess I lived too
+high last summer and put on weight. This is taking it out
+of me finely; I can feel whole pounds melting off. It
+doesn't seem to bother you any,&quot; he added.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, I haven't much flesh about me,&quot; panted Neil;
+&quot;but I'm glad this is the last time around, just the same!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>After their baths in the little green-roofed locker-house
+the two walked back to the yard together, Paul,
+as Neil saw, being in close companionship with a big
+youth whose name, according to Foster, was Tom
+Cowan.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He played right-guard last year,&quot; said Foster.
+&quot;He's a soph; this is his third year.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Third year!&quot; exclaimed Neil. &quot;But how--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, Cowan was too busy to pass his exams last year,&quot;
+said Foster with a grin. &quot;So they let him stay a soph.
+He doesn't care; a little thing like that never bothers
+Cowan.&quot; His tone was rather contemptuous.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Is he liked?&quot; Neil asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, yes; he's very popular among a small and select
+circle of friends--a very small circle.&quot; Then he dismissed
+Cowan with an airy wave of one hand. &quot;By the
+way,&quot; he continued, &quot;have you any candidate for the
+presidency of your class?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No,&quot; Neil replied. &quot;I haven't heard anything about
+it yet.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good; then you can vote for 'Fan' Livingston.
+He's a <i>prot&eacute;g&eacute;</i> of mine, you see; used to know him at
+St. Mathias; you'll like him. He's an awfully good,
+manly, straightforward chap, just the fellow for the place.
+The election comes off next Thursday evening. How
+about your friend?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Gale? I don't think he has any one in view. I
+guess you can count on his vote, too.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thanks; just mention it to him, will you? I'm booming
+Livingston, and I want to see him win. Can't you
+come round some evening the first of the week? I'd like
+you to meet him. And meanwhile just talk him up a bit,
+will you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil promised and made an appointment to meet the
+candidate the following Saturday night at Foster's room
+in McLean Hall. The two parted at the gate, Foster
+going up to his room and Neil traversing the campus and
+the common to his own quarters. As he opened the study
+door he was surprised to hear voices within. Paul and his
+new acquaintance, Tom Cowan, were sitting side by side
+on the window-seat.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hello,&quot; greeted the former. &quot;How'd it go? Like
+old times, wasn't it? Neil, I want you to meet Mr. Cowan.
+Cowan has quarters up-stairs here. He's an old
+player, and we've been telling each other how good we
+are.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Cowan looked for an instant as though he didn't quite
+appreciate the latter remark, but summoned a smile as
+he shook hands with Neil and complimented him on his
+playing in Hillton's last game with St. Eustace. Neil replied
+with extraordinary politeness. He was always extraordinarily
+polite to persons he didn't fancy, and his
+dislike of Cowan was instant and hearty. Cowan looked
+to be fully twenty-three years old, and owned to being
+twenty-one. He was fully six feet two, and apparently
+weighed about two hundred pounds. His face was rather
+handsome in a coarse, heavy-featured style, and his hands,
+as Neil observed, were not quite clean. Later, Neil discovered
+that they never were.</p>
+
+<p>After listening politely for some moments to Cowan's
+tales of former football triumphs and defeats, in
+all of which the narrator played, according to his
+words, a prominent part, Neil broke into the stream
+of his eloquence and told Paul of his meeting with
+Foster, and of their talk regarding the freshman presidency.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well,&quot; answered Paul, smiling at Cowan, &quot;you'll
+have to get out of that promise to Foster or whatever his
+name is, because we've got a plan better than that. The
+fact is, Neil, I'm going to try for the presidency myself!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I suppose you're fooling?&quot; gasped Neil.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not a bit! Why shouldn't I have a fling at it?
+Cowan here has promised to help; in fact, it was he that
+suggested it. With his help and yours, and with the kind
+assistance of one or two fellows I know here, I dare say
+I can pull out on top. Anyhow, there's no harm in
+trying.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think you'll win,&quot; said Cowan. &quot;This chump Livingston
+that Foster is booming is a regular milksop; does
+nothing but grind, so they say; came out of St. Mathias
+with all kinds of silly prizes and such. What the fellows
+always want is a good, popular chap that goes in for athletics
+and that will make a name for himself.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Foster said Livingston was something of a dab at
+baseball,&quot; said Neil.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Baseball!&quot; cried Cowan. &quot;What's baseball? Why
+not puss-in-the-corner? A chap with a football reputation
+like Gale here can walk all round your baseball man.
+We'll carry it with a rush! You'll see! Freshmen are
+like a lot of sheep--show 'em the way and they'll fall
+over themselves to get there.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, we're freshmen ourselves, you know,&quot; said
+Neil sweetly. Cowan looked nonplussed for a moment.
+Then--</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, but you fellows are different; you've got sense.
+I was speaking of the general run of freshmen,&quot; he explained.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thanks,&quot; murmured Neil. Paul scented danger.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'll put the campaign in your hands and Cowan's,
+Neil,&quot; he said. &quot;You know several fellows here--there's
+Wallace and Knowles and Jones. They're not freshmen,
+but they can give you introductions. Knowles is a St.
+Agnes man and there are lots of St. Agnes fellows in our
+class.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think you're making a mistake,&quot; answered Neil
+soberly, &quot;and I wish you'd give it up. Livingston's got
+lots of supporters, and he's had his campaign under way
+for a week. If you're defeated I think it'll hurt you;
+fellows don't like defeated candidates when--when
+they're self-appointed candidates.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, of course, if you don't want to help,&quot; cried Paul,
+with a trace of anger in his voice, &quot;I guess we can get on
+without you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm sure you won't desert your chum, Fletcher,&quot; said
+Cowan. &quot;And I think you're all wrong about defeated
+candidates. If a fellow makes a good fight and is worsted
+no fellow that isn't a cad does other than honor him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, if you've made up your mind, Paul,&quot; answered
+Neil reluctantly, &quot;of course I'll do all I can if Foster will
+let me out of my promise to him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, hang Foster!&quot; cried Cowan. &quot;He's a little
+fool!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Is he?&quot; asked Neil innocently. &quot;I hadn't noticed
+it. Well, as I say, I'll do all I can. And I'll begin now
+by going over to see him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's the boy,&quot; said Paul. &quot;Tell Foster there's a
+dark horse in the field.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And tell him I say the dark horse will win,&quot; added
+Cowan.</p>
+
+<p>Neil smiled back politely from the doorway.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't think I'd better mention your name, Mr.
+Cowan.&quot; He closed the door behind him, leaving Cowan
+much puzzled as to the meaning of the last remark, and
+sought No. 12 McLean. He found the varsity quarter-back
+writing a letter by means of a small typewriter, his
+brow heavily creased with scowls and his feet kicking
+exasperatedly at the legs of his chair.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hello,&quot; was Foster's greeting. &quot;Come in. And, I
+say, just look around on the floor there, will you, and see
+if you can find an L.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Find what?&quot; asked Neil, searching the carpet with
+his gaze.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;An L. There was one on this pesky machine a while
+ago, but I--can't--find--Ah, here it is! 'L-O-V-I-N-G-L-Y,
+T-E-D'! There, that's done. I bought this
+idiotic thing because some one said you could write letters
+on it in half the time it takes with a pen. Well, I
+began this letter last night, and I guess I've spent fully
+two hours on it altogether. For two cents I'd pitch it
+out the window!&quot; He pushed back his chair and glared
+vindictively at the typewriter. &quot;And look at the result!&quot;
+He held up a sheet of paper half covered with strange
+characters and erasures. &quot;Look how I've spelled 'allowance'--alliwzee!
+Do you think dad will know what I
+mean?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil shook his head dubiously.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not unless he's looking for the word,&quot; he answered.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, he will be,&quot; grinned Foster. &quot;Don't suppose
+you want to buy a fine typewriter at half price, do you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil was sure he didn't and broached the subject of
+his call. Foster showed some amazement when he learned
+of Gale's candidacy, but at once absolved Neil from his
+promise.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Frankly, Fletcher, I don't think your friend has the
+ghost of a show, you know, but, of course, if he wants
+to try it it's all right. And I'm just as much obliged
+to you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>During the next week Neil worked early and late for
+Paul's success. He made some converts, but not enough
+to give him much hope. Livingston was easily the popular
+candidate for the presidency, and Neil failed to understand
+where Cowan found ground for the encouraging
+reports that he made to Paul. Paul himself was hopeful
+all the way through, and lent ill attention to Neil's predictions
+of failure.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You always were a raven, chum,&quot; he would exclaim.
+&quot;Wait until Thursday night.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And Neil, without much hope, waited.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2>
+
+<h3>AND SHOWS HIS METTLE</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>The freshman election took place in one of the lecture
+rooms of Grace Hall. There was a full attendance of the
+entering class, while the absence of sophomores was considered
+by those who had heard of former freshman elections
+at Erskine as something unnatural and of evil portent.</p>
+
+<p>Paul, robbed of the support of Tom Cowan's presence,
+was noticeably ill at ease, and for the first time appeared
+to be in doubt as to his election. Fanwell Livingston
+was put in nomination by one of his St. Mathias
+friends in a speech that secured wide applause, and the
+nomination was duly seconded by a red-headed and very
+eloquent youth who, so Neil learned, was King, the captain
+of the St. Mathias baseball team of the preceding
+spring.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Are there any more nominations?&quot; asked the chairman,
+a member of the junior class.</p>
+
+<p>South, a Hillton boy, arose and spoke at some length
+of the courage and ability for leadership of one of whom
+they had all heard; &quot;of one who on the white-grilled
+field of battle had successfully led the hosts of Hillton
+Academy against the St. Eustace hosts.&quot; (Two St. Eustace
+graduates howled derisively.) South ended in a wild
+burst of flowery eloquence and placed in nomination
+&quot;that triumphant football captain, that best of good fellows,
+Paul Dunlop Gale!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The applause which followed was flattering, though,
+had Paul but known it, it was rather for the speech than
+the nominee. And the effect was somewhat marred by
+several inquiries from different parts of the hall as to
+who in thunder Gale was. Neil secured recognition ere
+the applause had subsided, and seconded the nomination.
+He avoided rhetoric, and told his classmates in few words
+and simple phrases that Paul Gale possessed pluck, generalship,
+and executive ability; that he had proved this at
+Hillton, and, given the chance, would prove it again at
+Erskine.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Gale is a stranger to many of you fellows,&quot; he concluded,
+&quot;but, whether you make him class president or
+whether you give that honor to another, he won't be a
+stranger long. A fellow that can pilot a Hillton football
+team to victory against almost overwhelming odds and
+through the greatest of difficulties as Gale did last year
+is not the sort to sit around in corners and watch the
+procession go by. No, sir; keep your eye on him. I'll
+wager that before the year's out you'll be prouder of him
+than of any man in your class. And, meanwhile, if you're
+looking for the right man for the presidency, a man that'll
+lead 1905 to a renown beside which the other classes will
+look like so many battered golf-balls, why, I've told you
+where to look.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil sat down amid a veritable roar of applause, and
+Paul, totally unembarrassed by the praise and acclaim,
+smiled with satisfaction. &quot;That was all right, chum,&quot;
+he whispered. &quot;I guess we've got them on the run,
+eh?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But Neil shook his head doubtfully. Cries of &quot;Vote!
+Vote!&quot; arose, and in a moment or two the balloting began.
+While this was proceeding announcement was made
+that the annual Freshman Class Dinner would be held on
+the evening of the following Monday, October 7th.
+When the cheers occasioned by this information had subsided
+the chairman arose.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The result of the balloting, gentlemen,&quot; he announced,
+&quot;is as follows: Livingston, 97; Gale, 45. Mr.
+Livingston is elected by a majority of 52.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Shouts of &quot;Livingston! Livingston! Speech! Speech!&quot;
+filled the air, and were not stilled until some one arose
+and announced that the president-elect was not in the hall.
+Paul, after a glance of bewilderment at Neil, had sat
+silent in his chair with something between a sneer and
+a scowl on his face. Now he jumped up.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come on; let's get out of here,&quot; he muttered.
+&quot;They act like a lot of idiots.&quot; Neil followed, and they
+found themselves in a pushing throng at the door. The
+chairman was vainly clamoring for some one to put a
+motion to adjourn, but none heeded him. The crowd
+pushed and shoved, but made no progress.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Open that door,&quot; cried Paul.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Try it yourself,&quot; answered a voice up front. &quot;It's
+locked!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A murmur arose that quickly gave place to cries of
+wrath and indignation. &quot;The sophs did it!&quot; &quot;Where
+are they?&quot; &quot;Break the door down!&quot; Those at the rear
+heaved and pushed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Stop shoving, back there!&quot; yelled those in front.
+&quot;You're squashing us flat.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Everybody away from the door!&quot; shouted Neil.
+&quot;Let's see if we can't get it open.&quot; The fellows finally
+fell back to some extent, and Neil, Paul, and some of
+the others examined the lock. The key was still there,
+but, unfortunately, on the outside. Breaking the door
+down was utterly out of the question, since it was of solid
+oak and several inches thick. The self-appointed committee
+shook its several heads.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We'll have to yell for the janitor,&quot; said Neil.
+&quot;Where does he hang out?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But none knew. Neil went to one of the three windows
+and raised it. Instantly a chorus of derision floated
+up from below. Gathered almost under the windows was
+a throng of sophomores, their upturned faces just visible
+in the darkness.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;O Fresh! O Fresh!&quot; &quot;Want to come down?&quot;
+&quot;Why don't you jump?&quot; These gibes were followed by
+cheers for &quot;'04&quot; and loud groans. Neil turned and faced
+his angry classmates.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Look here, fellows,&quot; he said, &quot;we don't want to have
+to yell for the janitor with those sophs there; that's too
+babyish. The key's in the outside of the lock. I think
+I can get down all right by the ivy, and I'll unlock the
+door if those sophs will let me. If two or three of you
+will follow I guess we can do it all right.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Bully for you!&quot; &quot;Plucky boy!&quot; cried the audience.
+But for a moment none came forward to share
+the risk. Then Paul pushed his way to the window.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Here, I'll go with you, chum,&quot; he said, with a suggestion
+of swagger. &quot;We can manage those dubs down
+there alone. The rest of you can sit down and tell stories;
+we'll let you out in a minute,&quot; he added scathingly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's Gale,&quot; whispered some one. &quot;Fresh kid!&quot;,
+added another angrily. But the gibe had the desired
+effect. Four other freshmen signified their willingness to
+die for their class, and Neil climbed on to the broad window-sill.
+His reappearance was the signal for another
+outburst from the watching sophomores.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't jump, sonny; you may hurt yourself.&quot;
+&quot;He's going to fly, fellows! Good little Freshie's got
+wings!&quot; &quot;Say, we'll let you out in the morning! Good-night!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But when Neil, divesting himself of coat and shoes,
+swung out and laid hold of the largest of the big ivy
+branches that clung there to the wall, the jeers died away.
+The hall where the meeting had been held was on the
+third floor, and when Neil stepped from the window-sill
+he hung fully twenty-five feet from the ground. The ivy
+branch, ages old, was almost as large as his wrist, and
+quite strong enough to bear his weight just as long as it
+did not tear from its fastenings. Whether it would hold
+in place remained to be seen. Neil judged that if he
+could lower himself fifteen feet by its aid he could easily
+drop the rest of the distance without injury. The window
+above was black with watchers as he began his journey,
+and many voices cheered him on. Paul, his feet hanging
+over the black void, sat on the narrow ledge and waited
+his turn.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Go fast, chum,&quot; he counseled, &quot;but don't lose your
+grip. I'll wait until you're down.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;All right,&quot; answered Neil. Then, with a great rustling
+of the thick-growing leaves, he lowered himself by
+arm's lengths. The vine swayed and gave at every strain,
+but held. From below came the sound of clapping. Hand
+under hand he went. The oblong of faint light above receded
+fast. His stockinged feet gripped the vine tightly.
+In the group of sophomores the clapping grew into cheers.</p>
+
+<br>
+<a name="illus-052.jpg"></a>
+<p class="ctr"><a href="images/illus-052.jpg">
+<img src="images/illus-052.jpg" width="50%" alt=""></a><br>
+<b>The vine swayed at every strain.</b></p>
+<br>
+
+<p>&quot;Good work, Freshie!&quot; &quot;You're all right!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then, with the ground almost at his feet, Neil let go
+and dropped lightly into a bed of shrubbery. The fellows
+above applauded wildly. With a glance at the near-by
+group of sophomores, Neil ran. Several of the enemy
+started to intercept him, but were called back.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Let him go! He's all right! We've had our fun!&quot;
+And Neil sprang up the steps and into the building without
+molestation. Meanwhile Paul was making his descent
+and receiving his meed of applause from friend and foe.
+And as he dropped to earth there came a sound of cheering
+from the building, and the freshmen, released by the
+unlocking of the door, emerged on to the steps and path.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Five this way!&quot; was the cry. &quot;Rush the sophs!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But wiser counsels prevailed and, each cheering loudly,
+the representatives of the rival classes took themselves
+off.</p>
+
+<p>Neil and Paul were the last to leave the building,
+since they had been obliged to return to the room for
+their shoes and coats. Paul had forgotten some of his
+disappointment during the later proceedings, and appeared
+very well satisfied with himself.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We showed them what Hillton chaps can do, chum,&quot;
+he said. &quot;And I'll bet they'll regret electing that fellow
+Livingston before I'm through with them! Much I care
+about their old presidency! They're a pack of silly little
+kids, any way. Let's go to bed.&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2>
+
+<h3>MILLS, HEAD COACH</h3>
+
+<h3>&quot;TO THE IN-FANTS OF 1905:</h3>
+
+<h3>&quot;GREETING!</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>&quot;The class of 1904, an-i-mat-ed by the kind-li-est
+of sen-ti-ments, has, at an ex-pen-se of much time and
+thought, form-u-lat-ed the fol-low-ing RULES for the
+guid-ance of your todd-ling foot-steps at this the out-set
+of your col-lege car-eers. A strict ad-her-ence to these
+PRE-CEPTS will in-sure to you the ad-mi-ra-tion of your
+fond par-ents, the re-spect of your friends, and the love
+of the SOPH-O-MORE CLASS, which, in the ab-sence of
+rel-at-ives, will, with thought-ful, tender care, stand ever
+by to guard you from the world's hard knocks.</p>
+<br>
+
+<p>&quot;ATTEND, INFANTS!</p>
+
+<p>&quot;1. R-spect for eld-ers and those in auth-or-ity is
+one of child-hood's most charm-ing traits. There-for
+take off your hat to all SOPH-O-MORES, and when in
+their pres-ence al-ways main-tain a def-er-en-tial sil-ence.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;2. Tall hats and canes as art-i-cles of child-ren's attire
+are ex-treme-ly un-be-com-ing, and are there-for
+strict-ly pro-hib-it-ed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;3. Smok-ing, either of pipes, cig-ars, or cig-ar-ettes,
+stunts the growth and re-tards the dev-el-op-ment of in-tel-lect.
+Child-ren, be-ware!</p>
+
+<p>&quot;4. A suf-fic-ien-cy of sleep and plain, whole-some
+fare are strong-ly re-com-mend-ed.</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+&quot;Early to bed and early to rise<br>
+ Makes little Freshie healthy and wise.<br>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>&quot;Avoid late hours and rich food, es-pec-ial-ly fudge.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;5. That you may not be tempt-ed to trans-gress the
+pre-ceed-ing rule, it has been thought best to pro-hib-it the
+Freshman Din-ner, which in pre-vi-ous years has ruin-ed so
+many young lives. The hab-it of hold-ing these din-ners
+is a per-nic-ious one and must be stamp-ed out. To this
+end the CLASS OF 1904 will ex-ert its strong-est ef-forts,
+and you are here-by warn-ed that any at-tempt to re-vive
+this lam-ent-able cust-om will bring down up-on you severe
+chast-ise-ment.</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+&quot;We must be cruel only to be kind;<br>
+ Pause and reflect, who would be dined.<br>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>&quot;Heed and prof-it by these PRE-CEPTS, dear child-ren,
+that you may grow up to be great and noble men like
+those who sub-scribe them-selves,</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Pa-ter-nal-ly yours,</p>
+
+<p>&quot;THE CLASS OF 1904.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are ad-ver-tis-ed by your lov-ing friends.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>This startling information, printed in sophomore red
+on big white placards, flamed from every available space
+in and about the campus the next morning. The nocturnal
+bill-posters had shown themselves no respecters of
+places, for the placards adorned not fences and walls
+alone, but were pasted on the granite steps of each recitation
+hall. All the forenoon groups of staid seniors, grinning
+juniors and sophomores, or vexed freshmen stood in
+front of the placards and read the inscriptions with varied
+emotions. But in the afternoon a cheering mob of the
+&quot;infants&quot; marched through the college and town and
+tore down or effaced every poster they could find. But
+they didn't get as far from the campus as the athletic
+field, and so it was not until Neil and Paul and one or two
+other freshmen reported for practise at four o'clock that
+it was discovered that the high board fence surrounding
+the field was a mass of the objectionable signs from end
+to end.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, let them stay,&quot; said Neil. &quot;I think they're
+rather funny myself. And as for their stopping the freshman
+dinner, why we'll wait and see. If they try it we'll
+have our chance to get back at them.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;R-r-revenge!&quot; muttered South, who, with a lacrosse
+stick over his shoulder and an attire consisting wholly of a
+pair of flapping white trunks, a faded green shirt, and a
+pair of canvas shoes, had come out to join the lacrosse
+candidates.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;King suggested our getting some small posters
+printed in blue with just the figures ''05' on them, and
+pasting one on every soph's window,&quot; said Paul, &quot;but
+Livingston wouldn't hear of it. I think it would be a good
+game, eh?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Faculty'd kick up no end of a rumpus,&quot; said
+South.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I haven't heard that they are doing much about
+these things,&quot; answered Paul. &quot;If the sophs can stick
+things around why can't we?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You'd better ask the Dean,&quot; suggested Neil. &quot;Hello,
+who's that chap?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>They had entered the grounds and were standing on
+the steps of the locker-house. The person to whom Neil
+referred was just coming through the gate. He was a
+medium-sized man of about thirty years, with a good-looking,
+albeit very freckled face, and a good deal of
+sandy hair. The afternoon was quite warm, and he carried
+his straw hat in one very brown hand, while over his
+arm lay a sweater of Erskine purple, a pair of canvas
+trousers, and two worn shoes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Blessed if I know who he is!&quot; murmured South.
+They watched the newcomer as he traversed the path and
+reached the steps. As he passed them and entered the
+building he looked them over keenly with a pair of very
+sharp and very light blue eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Wow!&quot; muttered Paul. &quot;He looked as though he
+was trying to decide whether I would taste better fried
+or baked.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I wonder--&quot; began Neil. But at that moment
+Tom Cowan came up and Paul put the question to him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The fellow that just came in?&quot; repeated Cowan.
+&quot;That, my boy, is a gentleman who will have you standing
+on your head in just about twenty minutes. Some
+eight or ten years ago he was popularly known hereabouts
+as 'Whitey' Mills. To-day, if you know your business,
+you'll address him as <i>Mister</i> Mills.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh,&quot; said Neil, &quot;he's the head coach, is he?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He is, my young friend. And as he used to be one
+of the finest half-backs in the country, I guess you'll see
+something of him before you make the team. I dare say
+he can teach even you something about playing your position.&quot;
+Cowan grinned and passed on.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, go to thunder!&quot; muttered Neil, following him
+into the building.</p>
+
+<p>He found Mills being introduced by Devoe to such of
+the new candidates as were on hand.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You remember Cowan, I guess,&quot; Devoe was saying.
+&quot;He played right-guard last year.&quot; Mills and Cowan
+shook hands. &quot;And this is Fletcher, a new man,&quot; continued
+the captain, &quot;and Gale, too; they're both Hillton
+fellows and played at half. It was Fletcher that made
+that fine run in the St. Eustace game. Gale was the captain
+last year.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mills shook hands with each, but beyond a short nod
+of his head and a brief &quot;Glad to meet you,&quot; displayed no
+knowledge of their fame.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Grouchy chap,&quot; commented Paul when, the coach
+out of hearing, they were changing their clothes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, he doesn't hurt himself talking,&quot; answered
+Neil. &quot;But he looks as though he knew his business. His
+eyes are like little blue-steel gimlets.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Doesn't look much for strength, though,&quot; said Paul.</p>
+
+<p>But when, a few minutes later, Mills appeared on the
+gridiron in football togs, Paul was forced to alter his
+opinion. Chest, arms, and legs were a mass of muscle,
+and the head coach looked as though he could render a
+good account of himself against the stiffest line that could
+be put together.</p>
+
+<p>The practise began with ten minutes of falling on the
+ball. The candidates were lined out in two strings across
+the field, the old men in one, the new material in another.
+Neil and Paul were among the latter, and Mills held their
+ball. Standing at the right end of the line, he rolled the
+pigskin in front of and slightly away from the line, and
+one after another the men leaped forward and flung themselves
+upon it, missing it at first as often as not, and rolling
+about on the turf as though suddenly seized with fits.
+Neil rather prided himself on his ability to fall on the
+ball, and went at it like an old stager, or so he thought.
+But if he expected commendation he found none. When
+the last man had rolled around after the elusive pigskin,
+Mills went to the other end of the line and did it all over
+again.</p>
+
+<p>When it came Neil's turn he plunged out, found the
+ball nicely, and snuggled it against his breast. To his surprise
+when he arose Mills left his place and walked out
+to him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Let's try that again,&quot; he said. Neil tossed him the
+ball and went back to his place. Mills nodded to him and
+rolled the pigskin toward him. Neil dropped on his hip,
+securing the ball under his right arm. Like a flash Mills
+was over him, and with a quick blow of his hand had sent
+the leather bobbing across the turf yards away.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;When you get it, hold on to it,&quot; he said dryly. Neil
+arose with reddening cheeks and, amid the smiles of the
+others, went back to his place trying to decide whether,
+if he could have his way, the coach should perish by boiling
+oil or by merely being drawn and quartered. But
+after that it was a noticeable fact that the men clung to
+the ball when they got it as though it were a dearly loved
+friend.</p>
+
+<p>Later, passing down the line in front from end to end,
+the head coach threw the ball swiftly at the feet of one
+after another of the candidates, and each was obliged to
+drop where he stood and have the ball in his arms when
+he landed. When Mills came to Neil the latter was still
+nursing his resentment, and his cheeks still proclaimed
+that fact. After the boy had dropped on the ball and
+had tossed it back to the coach their eyes met. In the
+coach's was just the merest twinkle, a very ghost of a
+smile; but Neil saw it, and it said to him as plainly as
+words could have said, &quot;I know just how you feel, my
+boy, but you'll get over it after a while.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The coach passed on and the flush faded from Neil's
+cheeks; he even smiled a little. It was all right; Mills
+understood. It was almost as though they shared a secret
+between them. Alfred Mills, head football coach at
+Erskine College, had no more devoted admirer and partizan
+from that moment than Neil Fletcher, '05.</p>
+
+<p>Next the men were spread out until there was a little
+space between each, and the coach passed behind the line
+and shot the ball through, and they had an opportunity to
+see what they could do with a pigskin that sped away
+ahead of them. By careful management it is possible in
+falling on a football to bring almost every portion of the
+anatomy in violent contact with the ground, and this fact
+was forcibly brought home to Neil, Paul, and all the
+others by the time the work was at an end.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I've got bones I never knew the existence of before,&quot;
+mourned Neil.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Me too,&quot; growled Paul. &quot;And half a dozen of my
+front teeth are aching from trying to bite holes in the
+ground; I think they're all loose. If they come out I'll
+send the dentist's bill to the management.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A few minutes later Neil found himself at left half
+in one of the six squads of eleven men each that practised
+advancing the ball. They lined up in ordinary formation,
+and the ball was passed to one back after another for end
+runs. Mills went from squad to squad, criticizing briefly
+and succinctly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't wait for the quarter to pass,&quot; he told Paul,
+who was playing beside Neil. &quot;On your toes and run
+hard. Have confidence in your quarter. If the ball isn't
+ready for you it's not your fault. Try that again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And when Paul and Neil and the full-back had
+plowed round the left end once more--</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Quarter, don't hold that ball as though your hand
+was frozen; keep your hand limber and see that you get
+the belly of the ball in it, not one end; then it won't tilt
+itself out. When you get the ball from center rise quickly,
+put your back against guard, and throw your weight
+there. And it's just as necessary for you to have confidence
+in the runner as it is for him to have faith in you.
+Don't fear that you'll be too quick for him; don't doubt
+but that he'll be there at the right instant. Keep that in
+mind and you'll soon have things going like clock-work.
+Now once more; ball to left half for a run around right
+end.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>When practise was over that day the new candidates
+were unanimous in the opinion that they had learned
+more that afternoon under Mills than they had learned
+during the whole previous week. Neil, Paul, and Cowan
+walked back to college together.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, he's a great little coach,&quot; said Cowan, &quot;and a
+nice chap when you get to know him; no frills on him,
+you know. And he's plumb full of pluck. They say that
+once when he played here at half-back he got the ball on
+Robinson's forty yards and walked down the field and
+over the line for a touch-down with half the Robinson
+team hanging on to his legs, and said afterward that he
+thought he <i>had</i> felt some one tugging at him!&quot; Neil
+laughed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But he doesn't look so awfully strong,&quot; he objected.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, I guess he was in better trim then,&quot; answered
+Cowan. &quot;Besides, he's built well, you see--most of his
+weight below his waist; when a chap's that way it's hard
+to pull him over. I remember last year in the game with
+Erstham I got through their tackle on a guard-back play,
+and--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But Neil had already heard that story of heroic deeds,
+and so lent a deaf ear to Cowan's boasting. When they
+reached Main Street a window full of the first issue of the
+college weekly, The Erskine Purple, met their sight, and
+they went in and bought copies. On the steps of the laboratory
+building they opened the inky-smelling journals
+and glanced through them.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Here's an account of last night's election,&quot; said
+Cowan. &quot;That's quick work, isn't it? And you can read
+all about Livingston's brilliant career, Gale. By the way,
+have you met him yet?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Paul shook his head. &quot;No, and I'm bearing up under
+it as well as can be expected.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You're not missing much,&quot; said Cowan. &quot;Hello,
+here's the football schedule! Want to hear it?&quot; Paul
+said he did, Neil muttered something unintelligible, and
+Cowan read as follows:</p>
+
+<br>
+<center>
+&quot;E.C.F.B.A.<br>
+<br>
+&quot;SCHEDULE OF GAMES<br>
+<br>
+<table summary="">
+<tr>
+<td align="right">&quot;Oct.</td>
+<td align="right">12.</td>
+<td>Woodby at Centerport.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="center">&quot;</td>
+<td align="right">16.</td>
+<td>Dexter at Centerport.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="center">&quot;</td>
+<td align="right">23.</td>
+<td>Harvard at Cambridge.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="center">&quot;</td>
+<td align="right">26.</td>
+<td>Erstham at Centerport.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="right">Nov.</td>
+<td align="right">2.</td>
+<td>State University at Centerport.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="center">&quot;</td>
+<td align="right">6.</td>
+<td>Arrowden at Centerport.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="center">&quot;</td>
+<td align="right">9.</td>
+<td>Yale at New Haven.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="center">&quot;</td>
+<td align="right">16.</td>
+<td>Artmouth at Centerport.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align="center">&quot;</td>
+<td align="right">23.</td>
+<td>Robinson at Centerport.&quot;</td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+</center>
+<br>
+
+<p>&quot;By Jove!&quot; said Cowan. &quot;We've got seven home
+games this year! That's fine, isn't it? But I'll bet
+we'll find Woodby a tough proposition on the 12th.
+Last year we played her about the 1st of November,
+and she didn't do a thing to us. And look at the
+game they've got scheduled for a week before the
+Robinson game! That'll wear us out; Artmouth will
+put just about half of our men on the sick-list.
+And--Hello!&quot; he said, dropping his voice; &quot;talk of an
+angel!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A youth of apparently nineteen years was approaching
+them. He was of moderate height, rather slimly built,
+with dark eyes and hair, and clean-cut features. He
+swung a note-book in one hand, and was evidently in deep
+thought, for he failed to see the group on the steps, and
+would have passed without speaking had not Cowan called
+to him. Housed from his reverie, Fanwell Livingston
+glanced up, and, after nodding to Cowan and Neil, turned
+in at the gate.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I suppose you want congratulations,&quot; said Cowan.
+&quot;Well, you can have mine.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And mine,&quot; added Neil. &quot;And Gale here will extend
+his as soon as he's properly introduced. Mr. Gale--Mr.
+Livingston.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Victory--Defeat,&quot; added Cowan with a grin. The
+two candidates for the freshman presidency shook hands,
+Paul without enthusiasm, Livingston heartily.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Congratulations, of course,&quot; murmured the former.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thank you,&quot; answered the president. &quot;You're very
+generous. After all, I dare say you've got the best of it,
+for you'll have the satisfaction of knowing that if the
+fellows had chosen you you would have done much better
+than I shall. However, I hope we'll be friends, Mr.
+Gale.&quot; Livingston's smile was undeniably winning, and
+Paul was forced to return it.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You're very good,&quot; he answered quite affably. &quot;I
+hope we will.&quot; Livingston nodded, smiled again, and
+turned to Cowan.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, they tell me you fellows are in for desperate
+deeds this year,&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How's that?&quot; asked Cowan.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Aren't you in on the sophomore councils? Why, I'm
+told that if the freshmen don't give up the dinner plan
+I'm to be kidnaped.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How'd you hear--&quot; began Cowan. Then he paused
+with some confusion. &quot;Who told you that rot?&quot; he asked
+with a laugh.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, it came in a roundabout way,&quot; answered Livingston.
+&quot;I dare say it's just talk.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Some freshman nonsense,&quot; said Cowan. &quot;I guess
+we'll do our best to keep you fellows from eating too
+much, but--&quot; He shrugged his big shoulders. Livingston,
+observing him shrewdly, began for the first time
+since intelligence of the supposed project had reached him
+to give credence to it. But he laughed carelessly as he
+turned away.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, well, we have to keep you fellows amused, of
+course, and if you like to try kidnaping you may.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I wish the sophs would try it,&quot; said Neil warmly.
+Cowan turned to him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, if they did--<i>if</i> they did--I guess they'd
+succeed,&quot; he drawled.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, if they do--<i>if</i> they do,&quot; answered Neil, &quot;I'll
+bet they won't succeed.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You'd stop us, perhaps?&quot; sneered Cowan.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Easily,&quot; answered Neil, smiling sweetly; &quot;there are
+only a hundred or so of you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There's no one like a week-old freshman for self-importance,&quot;
+Cowan said, laughing in order to hide his vexation.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Unless it's a third-year sophomore,&quot; Neil retorted.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, well,&quot; Paul interposed, &quot;it's all poppycock, anyhow.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's all,&quot; said Livingston.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Of course,&quot; agreed Cowan.</p>
+
+<p>Neil was silent.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2>
+
+<h3>THE GENTLE ART OF HANDLING PUNTS</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>Life now was filled with hard work for both Neil and
+Paul. Much of the novelty that had at first invested
+study with an exhilarating interest had worn off, and they
+had settled down to the daily routine of lectures and recitations
+just as though they had been Erskine undergrads
+for years instead of a week. The study and the adjoining
+bed-room were at last furnished to suit; The First Snow
+was hung, the &quot;rug for the wash-stand&quot; was in place, and
+the objectionable towel-rack had given way to a smaller
+but less erratic affair.</p>
+
+<p>Every afternoon saw the two boys on Erskine Field.
+Mills was a hard taskmaster, but one that inspired the
+utmost confidence, and as a result of some ten days' teaching
+the half hundred candidates who had survived the first
+weeding-out process were well along in the art of football.
+The new men were coached daily in the rudiments; were
+taught to punt and catch, to fall on the ball, to pass without
+fumbling, to start quickly, and to run hard. Exercise
+in the gymnasium still went on, but the original twenty-minute
+period had gradually diminished to ten. Neil and
+Paul, with certain other candidates for the back-field, were
+daily instructed in catching punts and forming interference.
+Every afternoon the practise was watched by a
+throng of students who were quick to applaud good work,
+and whose presence was a constant incentive to the players.
+There was a strong sentiment throughout the college
+in favor of leaving nothing undone that might secure a
+victory over Robinson. The defeat of the previous year
+rankled, and Erskine was grimly determined to square
+accounts with her lifelong rival. As one important means
+to this end the college was searched through and through
+for heavy material, for Robinson always turned out teams
+that, whatever might be their playing power, were beef
+and brawn from left end to right. And so at Erskine men
+who didn't know a football from a goal-post were hauled
+from studious retirement simply because they had weight
+and promised strength, and were duly tried and, usually,
+found wanting. One lucky find, however, rewarded
+the search, a two-hundred-pound sophomore named
+Browning, who, handicapped at the start with a colossal
+ignorance regarding all things pertaining to the gridiron,
+learned with wonderful rapidity, and gave every promise
+of turning himself into a phenomenal guard or tackle.</p>
+
+<p>On the 5th of October a varsity and a second squad
+were formed, and Neil and Paul found themselves at
+left and right half respectively on the latter. Cowan
+was back at right-guard on the varsity, a position which
+he had played satisfactorily the year before. Neil had
+already made the discovery that he had, despite his Hillton
+experience, not a little to learn, and he set about
+learning it eagerly. Paul made the same discovery, but,
+unfortunately for himself, the discovery wounded his
+pride, and he accepted the criticisms of coach and captain
+with rather ill grace.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That dub Devoe makes me very weary,&quot; he confided
+to Neil one afternoon. &quot;He thinks he knows it all and
+no one else has any sense.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He doesn't strike me that way,&quot; answered his chum.
+&quot;And I think he does know a good deal of football.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You always stick up for him,&quot; growled Paul. &quot;And
+for Mills, too--white-haired, freckle-faced chump!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't be an idiot,&quot; said Neil. &quot;One's captain and
+t'other is coach, and they're going to rub it into us whenever
+they please, and the best thing for us to do is to take
+it and look cheerful.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's it; we <i>have</i> to take it,&quot; Paul objected. &quot;They
+can put us on the bench if they want to and keep us there
+all the season; I know that. But, just the same, I don't
+intend to lick Devoe's boots or rub my head in the dirt
+whenever Mills looks at me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, it looks to me as though you'd been rubbing
+your head in the dirt already,&quot; laughed Neil.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Connor stepped on me there,&quot; muttered Paul, wiping
+a clump of mud from his forehead. &quot;Come on; Mills
+is yelling for us. More catching punts, I suppose.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And his supposition was correct. Across the width of
+the sunlit field Graham, the two-hundred-and-thirty-pound
+center rush, stooped over the pigskin. Beside him were
+two pairs of end rushes, and behind him, with outstretched
+hands, stood Ted Foster. Foster gave a signal, the ball
+went back to him on a long pass, and he sent it over the
+gridiron toward where Neil, Paul, and two other backs
+were waiting. The ends came down under the kick, the
+ball thumped into Paul's hands, Neil and another formed
+speedy interference, and the three were well off before
+the ends, like miniature cyclones, were upon them and had
+dragged Paul to earth.</p>
+
+<p>The head coach, a short but sturdy figure in worn-out
+trousers and faded purple shirt, stood on the edge of the
+cinder track and viewed the work with critical eye.
+When the ends had trotted back over the field with the
+ball to repeat the proceeding, he made himself heard:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Spread out more, fellows, and don't all stand in a
+line across the field. You've got to learn now to judge
+kicks; you can't expect to always find yourself just under
+them. Fletcher, as soon as you've decided who is to take
+the ball yell out. Then play to the runner; every other
+man form into interference and get him up the field.
+Now then! Play quick!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The ball was in flight again, and once more the ends
+were speeding across under it. &quot;Mine!&quot; cried Neil.
+Then the leather was against his breast and he was dodging
+forward, Paul ahead of him to bowl over opposing
+players, and Pearse, a full-back candidate, plunging along
+beside. One--two--three of the ends were passed, and
+the ball had been run back ten yards. Then Stone, last
+year's varsity left end, fooled Paul, and getting inside
+him, nailed Neil by the hips.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well tackled, Stone,&quot; called Mills. &quot;Gale, you were
+asleep, man; Stone ought never to have got through there.
+Fletcher, you're going to lose the ball some time when
+you need it badly if you don't catch better than that.
+Never reach up for it; remember that your opponent
+can't tackle you until you've touched it; wait until it
+hits against your stomach, and then grip it hard. If you
+take it in the air it's an easy stunt for an opponent to
+knock it out of your hands; but if you've got it hugged
+against your body it won't matter how hard you're
+thrown, the ball's yours for keeps. Bear that in
+mind.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>On the next kick Neil called to Gale to take the pigskin.
+Paul misjudged it, and was forced to turn and run
+back. He missed the catch, a difficult one under the
+circumstances, and also missed the rebound. By this time
+the opposing ends were down on him. The ball trickled
+across the running track, and Paul stooped to pick it up.
+But Stone was ahead of him, and seizing the pigskin, was
+off for what would have been a touch-down had it been
+in a game.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What's the matter, Gale?&quot; cried Mills angrily.
+&quot;Why didn't you fall on that ball?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It was on the cinders,&quot; answered Paul, in evident
+surprise. Mills made a motion of disgust, of tragic impatience.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't care,&quot; he cried, &quot;if it was on broken glass!
+You've got orders to fall on the ball. Now bring it over
+here, put it down and--<i>fall</i>--<i>on</i>--<i>it</i>!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil watched his chum apprehensively. Knowing
+well Paul's impatience under discipline, he feared that the
+latter would give way to anger and mutiny on the spot.
+But Paul did as directed, though with bad grace, and contented
+himself with muttered words as he threw the pigskin
+to a waiting end and went back to his place.</p>
+
+<p>Soon afterward they were called away for a ten-minute
+line-up. Paul, still smarting under what in his
+own mind he termed a cruel indignity, played poorly, and
+ere the ten minutes was half up was relegated to the
+benches, his place at right half being taken by Kirk. The
+second managed to hold the varsity down to one score
+that day, and might have taken the ball over itself had
+not Pearse fumbled on the varsity's three yards. As it
+was, they were given a hearty cheer by the watchers when
+time was called, and they trotted to the bucket to be
+sponged off. Then those who had not already been in
+the line-up were given the gridiron, and the varsity and
+second were sent for a trot four times around the field, the
+watchful eye of &quot;Baldy&quot; Simson, Erskine's veteran
+trainer, keeping them under surveillance until they had
+completed their task and had trailed out the gate toward
+the locker-house, baths, and rub-downs.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2>
+
+<h3>THE KIDNAPING</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>Fanwell Livingston was curled in the window-seat in
+his front room, his book close to the bleared pane, striving
+to find light enough by which to study. Outside it was
+raining in a weary, desultory way, and the heavens were
+leaden-hued. Livingston's quarters were on the front of
+that big lemon-yellow house at the corner of Oak and
+King Streets, about equidistant from campus and field.
+The outlook to-day was far from inspiriting. When he
+raised his eyes from the pages before him he saw an empty
+road running with water; beyond that a bare, weed-grown,
+sodden field that stretched westward to the unattractive
+backs of the one-and two-storied shops on Main
+Street. Livingston's room wasn't in any sense central, but
+he liked it because it was quiet, because aside from the
+family he had the house to himself, and because Mrs.
+Saunders, his landlady, was goodness itself and administered
+to his comfort almost as his own mother would
+have done.</p>
+
+<p>The freshman president laid aside his book, grimaced
+at the dreary prospect, and took out his watch. &quot;Ten
+minutes after five,&quot; he murmured. &quot;Heavens, what a
+beastly dark day! I'll have to start to get dressed before
+long. Too bad we've got such weather for the affair.&quot;
+He glanced irresolutely toward the gas-fixture, and from
+thence to where his evening clothes lay spread out on the
+couch. For it was the evening of the Freshman Class Dinner.
+While he was striving to find energy wherewith to
+tear himself from the soft cushions and make a light, footsteps
+sounded outside his door, and some one demanded
+admission.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come in!&quot; he called.</p>
+
+<p>The door swung open, was closed swiftly and softly
+again, and Neil Fletcher crossed the room. He looked
+rather like a tramp; his hat was a misshapen thing of felt
+from which the water dripped steadily as he tossed it
+aside; his sweater--he wore no coat--was soaking wet;
+and his trousers and much-darned golf stockings were in
+scarcely better condition. His hair looked as though he
+had just taken his head from a water-bucket, and his face
+bespoke excitement.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They're coming after you, Livingston,&quot; he cried in
+an intense whisper. &quot;I heard Cowan telling Carey in the
+locker-room a minute ago; they didn't know I was there;
+it was dark as dark. They've got a carriage, and there are
+going to be nearly a dozen of them. I ran all the way as
+soon as I got on to Oak Street. There wasn't time to get
+any of the fellows together, so I just sneaked right over
+here. You can get out now and go--somewhere--to our
+room or the library. They won't look for you there, eh?
+There's a fellow at the corner watching, but I don't think
+he saw me, and I can settle with him; or maybe you could
+get out the back way and double round by the railroad?
+You can't stay here, because they're coming right away;
+Cowan said--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;For heaven's sake, Fletcher, what do you mean?&quot;
+asked Livingston. &quot;You don't want me to believe that
+they're really going to run off with me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil, gasping for breath, subsided on to the window-seat
+and nodded his head vigorously. &quot;That's just what
+I do mean. There's no doubt about it, my friend. Didn't
+I tell you I heard Cowan--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, Cowan!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I know, but it was all in earnest. Carey and he are
+on their way to Pike's stable for the carriage, and the
+others are to meet there. They've had fellows watching
+you all day. There's one at the corner now--a tall, long-nosed
+chap that I've seen in class. So get your things and
+get out as soon as you can move.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Livingston, with his hands in his pockets, stared
+thoughtfully out of the window, Neil watching him impatiently
+and listening apprehensively for the sound of
+carriage wheels down the street.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It doesn't seem to me that they could be idiots
+enough to attempt such a silly trick,&quot; said Livingston at
+last. &quot;You--you're quite sure you weren't mistaken--that
+they weren't stringing you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They didn't know I was there!&quot; cried Neil in exasperation.
+&quot;I went in late--Mills had us blocking kicks--and
+was changing my things over in a dark corner when
+they hurried in and went over into the next alley and
+began to talk. At first they were whispering, but after
+a bit they talked loud enough for me to hear every
+word.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, anyhow--and I'm awfully much obliged,
+Fletcher--I don't intend to run from a few sophs. I'll
+lock the front door and this one and let them hammer.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nonsense; when they find they can't get in they'll
+get tired and go away.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And you'll go out and get nabbed at the corner!
+That's a clever program, I don't think!&quot; cried Neil in intense
+scorn. &quot;Now you listen to me, Livingston. What
+you want to do is to put your glad rags in a bag and--What's
+that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He leaped to his feet and peered out of the window.
+Just within his range of vision a carriage, drawn by two
+dripping, sorry-looking nags, drew up under the slight
+shelter of an elm-tree about fifty yards away from the
+house. From it emerged eight fellows in rain-coats, while
+the tall, long-nosed watcher whom Neil had seen at the
+corner joined them and made his report. The group
+looked toward Livingston's window and Neil dodged back.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It's too late now,&quot; he whispered. &quot;There they are.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Look a bit damp, don't they,&quot; laughed Livingston
+softly as he peered out over the other's shoulder. &quot;I'll go
+down and lock the door.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, stay here,&quot; said Neil. &quot;I'll look after that; they
+might get you. I wish it wasn't so dark! How about the
+back way? Can't you get out there and sneak around by
+the field?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I told you I wasn't going to run away from them,&quot;
+replied his host, &quot;and I haven't changed my mind.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You're an obstinate ass!&quot; answered Neil. He
+scowled at the calm and smiling countenance of the freshman
+president a moment, and then turned quickly and
+pulled the shades at the windows. &quot;I've got it!&quot; he
+cried. &quot;Look here, will you do as I tell you? If you do
+I promise you we'll fool them finely.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm not going out of this room,&quot; objected Livingston.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, you are--into the next one. And you're going
+to lock the door behind you; and I'm going to look after
+our sophomore callers. Now go ahead. Do as I tell
+you, or I'll go off and leave you to be eaten alive!&quot; Neil,
+grinning delightedly, thrust the unwilling Livingston before
+him. &quot;Now lock the door and keep quiet. No matter
+what you hear, keep quiet and stay in there.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You be hanged!&quot; Neil pulled to the bed-room door,
+and listened until he heard the key turn on the other side.
+Then he stole to the window and, lifting a corner of the
+shade, peeped out. The group of sophomores were no
+longer in sight, but at that moment he heard the front
+door close softly. There was no time to lose. He found
+a match and hurriedly lighted one burner over the study
+table. Then, turning it down to a mere blue point of
+light, he flung himself back among the cushions on the
+window-seat, and with a heart that hammered violently
+at his ribs waited.</p>
+
+<p>Almost in the next moment there were sounds of
+shuffling feet outside the study door, a low voice, and then
+a knock. Neil took a long breath.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come in,&quot; he called drowsily.</p>
+
+<p>The door opened. Neil arose and walked to the gas-fixture,
+knocking over a chair on his way.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come in, whoever you are,&quot; he muttered. &quot;Guess
+I was almost asleep.&quot; He reached up a hand and turned
+out the gas. The room, almost dark before, was now
+blackness from wall to wall. &quot;Pshaw,&quot; said Neil, &quot;I've
+turned the pesky thing out! Just stand still until I find
+a match or you'll break your shins.&quot; He groped his way
+toward the mantel. Now was the sophomores' opportunity,
+and they seized it. Neil had done his best to imitate
+Livingston's careful and rather precise manner of
+speaking, and the invaders, few of whom even knew the
+president of the freshman class by sight, never for an instant
+doubted that they had captured him.</p>
+
+<br>
+<a name="illus-081.jpg"></a>
+<p class="ctr"><a href="images/illus-081.jpg">
+<img src="images/illus-081.jpg" width="50%" alt=""></a><br>
+<b>Hiding his face, he cried for help.</b></p>
+<br>
+
+<p>Neil found himself suddenly seized by strong arms.
+With a cry of simulated surprise, he struggled feebly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Here, what's up, fellows?&quot; he remonstrated. &quot;Look
+out, I tell you! <i>Don't do that</i>!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then he was borne, protesting and kicking, feet foremost,
+through the door, out into the hall and down the
+stairs. When the front door was thrown open Neil was
+alarmed to find that although almost dark it was still light
+enough for his captors to discover their mistake. Hiding
+his face as best he could, he lifted his voice in loud cries
+for help. It worked like a charm. Instantly a carriage
+robe was thrown over his head and he was hurried down
+the steps, across the muddy sidewalk, and into the waiting
+vehicle which had been driven up before the house. Once
+inside, Neil was safe from detection, for the hack, the
+shades drawn up before the windows, was as dark as
+Egypt. Neil sighed his relief, muttered a few perfunctory
+threats from behind the uncomfortable folds of
+the ill-smelling robe, and, with one fellow sitting on his
+chest and three others holding his legs, felt the carriage
+start.</p>
+
+<p>Despite the enveloping folds about his head he could
+hear quite well; hear the horses' feet go <i>squish-squash</i> in
+the mud; hear the carriage creak on its aged hinges; hear
+the shriek of a distant locomotive as they approached the
+railroad. His captors were congratulating themselves on
+the success of their venture.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Easier than I thought it'd be,&quot; said one, and at the
+reply Neil figuratively pricked up his ears.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Pshaw, I knew we'd have no trouble; Livingston was
+so cock-sure that we wouldn't try it that he'd probably
+forgotten all about it. I guess that conceited little fool
+Fletcher will talk out of the other side of his mouth for
+a while now. What do you think? He had the nerve to
+tell me last week that he guessed <i>he</i> could prevent a
+kidnaping, as there were only about a hundred of us sophs!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The others laughed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, he is a chesty young kid, isn't he?&quot; asked a
+third speaker. &quot;I guess it's just as well we didn't have
+to kidnap <i>him</i>, eh? By the way, our friend here seems ill
+at ease. Maybe we'd better get off of him now and give
+him a breath of air. We don't want a corpse on our
+hands.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The sophomores found seats and the robe was unwound
+from about Neil's head, much to that youth's delight.
+He took a good long breath and, grinning enjoyably
+in the darkness, settled himself to make the best of
+his predicament. Now that he had discovered Tom Cowan
+to be one of his abductors, he was filled with such glee
+that he found it hard work to keep silent. But he did, and
+all the gibes of his captors, uttered in quite the most polite
+language imaginable, failed to elicit a reply.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Beautiful evening for a drive, is it not?&quot; asked one.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I trust you had not planned to attend the freshman
+dinner to-night?&quot; asked another. &quot;For I fear we shall
+be late in reaching home.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are quite comfortable? Is there any particular
+road you would like to drive? any part of our lovely
+suburbs you care to visit?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Surly brute!&quot; growled a fourth, who was Cowan.
+&quot;Let's make him speak, eh? Let's twist his arm a bit.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You sit still or I'll punch your thick head,&quot; said the
+first speaker coldly. &quot;What I dislike about you, Cowan,
+is that you are never able to forget that you're a mucker.
+I wish you'd try,&quot; he continued wearily, &quot;it's so monotonous.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Cowan was silent an instant; then laughed uncertainly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I suppose you fancy you're a wit, Baker,&quot; he said,
+&quot;but I think you're mighty tiresome.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't let it trouble you,&quot; was the calm reply. Some
+one laughed drowsily. Then there was silence save for
+the sound of the horses' feet, the complaining of the well-worn
+hack and the occasional voice of the driver outside
+on the box. Neil began to feel rather drowsy himself;
+the motion was lulling, and now that they had crossed the
+railroad-track and reached the turnpike along the river,
+the carriage traveled smoothly. It was black night outside
+now, and through the nearest window at which the
+curtain had been lowered Neil could see nothing save an
+occasional light in some house. He didn't know where he
+was being taken, and didn't much care. They rolled
+steadily on for half an hour longer, during which time
+two at least of his captors proclaimed their contentment
+by loud snoring. Then the carriage slowed down, the
+sleeping ones were awakened, and a moment later a flood
+of light entering the window told Neil that the journey
+was at an end.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Far as we go,&quot; said some one. &quot;All out here and
+take the car ahead!&quot; A door was opened, two of his
+captors got out, and Neil was politely invited to follow.
+He did so. Before him was the open door of a farm-house
+from which the light streamed hospitably. It was
+still drizzling, and Neil took shelter on the porch unchallenged;
+now that the abductors had got him some five
+miles from Centerport, they were not so attentive. The
+others came up the steps and the carriage was led away
+toward the barn.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If your Excellency will have the kindness to enter
+the house,&quot; said Baker, with low obeisance, &quot;he will find
+accommodations which, while far from befitting your Excellency's
+dignity, are, unfortunately, the best at our command.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil accepted the invitation silently, and entering the
+doorway, found himself in a well-lighted room wherein a
+table was set for supper. The others followed, Cowan
+grinning from ear to ear in anticipation of the victim's
+discomfiture. In his eagerness he was the first to catch
+sight of Neil's face. With a howl of surprise he sprang
+back, almost upsetting Baker.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What's the matter with you?&quot; cried the latter.
+Cowan made no answer, but stared stupidly at Neil.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Eh? What?&quot; Baker sprang forward and wheeled
+their victim into the light. Neil turned and faced them
+smilingly. The four stared in bewilderment. It was
+Baker who first found words.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Well, I'll--be--hanged</i>!&quot; he murmured.</p>
+
+<p>Neil turned placidly to the discomfited Cowan.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You see, Cowan,&quot; he said sweetly, &quot;one against a
+hundred isn't such big odds, after all, is it?&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2>
+
+<h3>THE BROKEN TRICYCLE</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>As soon as Livingston heard the kidnapers staggering
+down-stairs with their burden he unlocked the bed-room
+door and stole to the window. He saw Neil, his head
+hidden by the carriage robe, thrust into the hack and
+driven away, and saw the conspirators for whom the vehicle
+afforded no room separate and disappear in the gathering
+darkness. Livingston's emotions were varied: admiration
+for Neil's harebrained but successful ruse, distaste
+for the sorry part taken by himself in the affair, and
+amusement over the coming amazement and discomfiture
+of the enemy were mingled. In the end delight in the
+frustration of the sophomores' plan gained the ascendency,
+and he resolved that although Neil would miss the freshman
+dinner he should have it made up to him.</p>
+
+<p>And so in his speech an hour or so later Fanwell Livingston
+told the astonished company of the attempted kidnaping
+and of its failure, and never before had Odd Fellows'
+Hall rang with such laughter and cheering. And a
+little knot of sophomores, already bewildered by the
+appearance of the freshman president on the scene, were
+more than ever at a loss. They stood under an awning
+across the street, some twenty or thirty of them, and asked
+each other what it meant. Content with the supposed success
+of the abduction, they had made no attempt to prevent
+the dinner. And now Livingston, who by every law
+of nature should be five miles out in the country, was presiding
+at the feast and moving his audience to the wildest
+applause.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But I helped put him in the hack!&quot; Carey cried over
+and over.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And I saw it drive off with him!&quot; marveled another.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And if that's Livingston, where's Baker, and Morton,
+and Cowan, and Dyer?&quot; asked the rest. And all
+shook their heads and gazed bewildered through the
+rain to where a raised window-shade gave them occasional
+glimpses of &quot;Fan&quot; Livingston, a fine figure
+in dinner jacket and white shirt bosom, leading the
+cheering.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Rah-rah-rah, Rah-rah-rah, Rah-rah-rah, Fletcher</i>!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The group under the awning turned puzzled looks
+upon each other.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Who's Fletcher? What are they cheering Fletcher
+for?&quot; was asked. But none could answer.</p>
+
+<p>But over in the hall it was different. Not a lad there,
+perhaps, but would have been glad to have exchanged
+places with the gallant confounder of sophomore plots,
+who was pictured in most minds as starving to death somewhere
+out in the rain, a captive in the ungentle hands of
+the enemy.</p>
+
+<p>However, starving Neil certainly was not. For at that
+very moment, seated at the hospitable board of Farmer
+Hutchins, he was helping himself to his fifth hot biscuit,
+and allowing Miss Hutchins, a red-cheeked and admiring
+young lady of fourteen years, to fill his teacup for the
+second time. From the role of prisoner Neil had advanced
+himself to the position of honored guest. For
+after the first consternation, bewilderment, and mortification
+had passed, his captors philosophically accepted the
+situation, and under the benign influence of cold chicken
+and hot soda biscuits found themselves not only able to
+display equanimity, but to join in the laugh against themselves
+and to admire the cleverness displayed in their out-witting.
+Of the four sophomores Cowan's laughter and
+praise alone rang false. But Neil was supremely indifferent
+to that youth's sentiments. The others he soon discovered
+to be thoroughly good fellows, and there is no
+doubt but that he enjoyed the hospitality of Farmer
+Hutchins more than he would have enjoyed the freshman
+class dinner.</p>
+
+<p>At nine o'clock the drive back to Centerport began,
+and as the horses soon found that they were headed toward
+home the journey occupied surprisingly little time,
+and at ten Neil was back in his room awaiting the return
+of Paul. To Neil's surprise that gentleman was at first
+decidedly grumpy.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You might have let me into it,&quot; he grumbled.</p>
+
+<p>But Neil explained and apologized until at length
+peace was restored. Then he had to tell Paul all about
+it from first to last, and Paul laughed until he choked;
+&quot;I--I just wish--wish I had--seen Cowan's--face when--he--found
+it--out!&quot; he shrieked.</p>
+
+<p>One result of that night's adventure was that the Class
+of 1905 was never thereafter bothered in the slightest
+degree by the sophomores; it appeared to be the generally
+accepted verdict that the freshmen had established their
+right to immunity from all molestation. Another result
+was that Neil became a class hero and a college notable.
+Younger freshmen pointed him out to each other in admiring
+awe; older and more influential ones went out of
+their way to claim recognition from him; sophomores
+viewed him with more than passing interest, and upper-class
+men predicted for him a brilliant college career.
+Even the Dean, when he passed Neil the following afternoon
+and returned his bow, allowing himself something
+almost approaching a grin. Neil, however, bore his
+honors modestly even while acknowledging to himself the
+benefit of them. He learned that his chances of making a
+certain society, membership in which was one of his highest
+ambitions, had been more than doubled, and was glad
+accordingly. (He was duly elected and underwent rigorous
+initiation proudly and joyfully.)</p>
+
+<p>The kidnaping affair even affected his football standing,
+for Mills and Devoe and Simson, the trainer, spoke
+or looked applause, while the head coach thereafter displayed
+quite a personal interest in him. Several days subsequent
+to the affair Neil was taking dummy practise
+with the rest of the second eleven. Mills had appropriated
+the invention of a Harvard trainer, rigging the
+dummy with hook and eye-bolt, so that when properly
+tackled the stuffed canvas effigy of a Robinson player
+became detached from its cable and fell on to the soft loam
+much after the manner of a human being. But to bring
+the dummy from the hook necessitated the fiercest of
+tackling, and many fellows failed at this. To-day Neil
+was one of this number. Twice the dummy, bearing upon
+its breast the brown R of Robinson, had sped away on its
+twenty-foot flight, and twice Neil had thrown himself
+upon it without bringing it down. As he arose after the
+second attempt and brushed the soil from his trousers
+Mills &quot;went for him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You're very ladylike, Fletcher, but as this isn't
+crewel-work or crochet you'll oblige me by being so rude
+as to bring that dummy off. Now, once more; put some
+snap into it! Get your hold, find your purchase, and then
+throw! Just imagine it's a sophomore, please.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The roar of laughter that followed restored some of
+Neil's confidence, and, whether he deceived himself into
+momentarily thinking the dummy a sophomore, he tackled
+finely, brought the canvas figure from the hook, and triumphantly
+sat on the letter R.</p>
+
+<p>Signal practise followed work at the dummy that
+afternoon, and last of all the varsity and second teams
+had their daily line-up. Neil, however, did not get into
+this. Greatly to his surprise and disappointment McCullough
+took his place at left half, and Neil sat on the bench
+and aggrievedly watched the lucky ones peeling off their
+sweaters in preparation for the fray. But idleness was
+not to be his portion, for a moment later Mills called to
+him:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Here, take this ball, go down there to the fifteen-yard
+line, and try drop-kicking. Keep a strict count, and
+let me know how many tries you had and how many
+times you put it over the goal.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil took the ball and trotted off to the scene of his
+labors, greatly comforted. Kicking goals from the fifteen-yard
+line didn't sound very difficult, and he set to work
+resolved to distinguish himself. But drop-kicks were not
+among Neil's accomplishments, and he soon found that the
+cross-bar had a way of being in the wrong place at the
+critical moment. At first it was hard to keep from turning
+his head to watch the progress of the game, but presently
+he became absorbed in his work. As a punter he
+had been somewhat of a success at Hillton, but drop-kicking
+had been left to the full-back, and consequently it was
+unaccustomed work. The first five tries went low, and
+the next four went high enough but wide of the goal.
+The next one barely cleared the cross-bar, and Neil was
+hugely tickled. The count was then ten tries and one
+goal. He got out of the way in order to keep from being
+ground to pieces by the struggling teams, and while he
+stood by and watched the varsity make its first touch-down,
+ruminated sadly upon the report he would have to
+render to Mills.</p>
+
+<p>But a long acquaintance with footballs had thoroughly
+dispelled Neil's awe of them, and he returned to his labor
+determined to better his score. And he did, for when the
+teams trotted by him on their way off the field and Mills
+came up, he was able to report 38 tries, of which 12 were
+goals.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not bad,&quot; said the coach. &quot;That'll do for to-day.
+But whenever you find a football, and don't know what to
+do with it, try drop-kicking. Your punting is very good,
+and there's no reason why you shouldn't learn to kick
+from drop or placement as well. Take my advice and put
+your heart and brain and muscle into it, for, while we've
+got backs that can buck and hurdle and run, we haven't
+many that can be depended on to kick a goal, and we'll
+need them before long.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil trotted out to the locker-house with throbbing
+heart. Mills had as good as promised him his place. That
+is, if he could learn to kick goals. The condition didn't
+trouble Neil, however; he <i>could</i> learn to drop-kick and
+he <i>would</i> learn, he told himself exultantly as he panted
+under the effects of a cold shower-bath. For a moment
+the wild idea of rising at unchristian hours and practising
+before chapel occurred to him, but upon maturer thought
+was given up. No, the only thing to do was to follow
+Mills's advice: &quot;Put your heart and brain and muscle into
+it,&quot; the coach had said. Neil nodded vigorously and
+rubbed himself so hard with the towel as to almost take
+the skin off. He was late in leaving the house that evening,
+and as all the fellows he knew personally had already
+taken their departure, he started back toward the campus
+alone. Near the corner of King Street he glanced up and
+saw something a short distance ahead that puzzled him.
+It looked at first like a cluster of bicycles with a single
+rider. But as the rider was motionless Neil soon came up
+to him.</p>
+
+<p>On nearer view he saw that the object was in reality a
+tricycle, and that it held beside the rider a pair of crutches
+which lay in supports lengthwise along one side. The machine
+was made to work with the hands instead of the
+feet, and a bow-shaped piece of steel which fitted around
+the operator's knee served as steering apparatus. The
+youth who sat motionless on the seat was a rather pale-faced,
+frail-looking lad of eighteen years, and it needed
+no second glance to tell Neil that he was crippled from
+his waist down. As Neil approached he was pulling the
+handles to and fro and looking perplexedly at the gear.
+The tricycle refused to budge.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I guess you've broken down,&quot; said Neil, approaching.
+&quot;Stay where you are and I'll have a look.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thanks, but you needn't bother,&quot; said the lad.</p>
+
+<p>But Neil was already on his knees. The trouble was
+soon found; the chain had broken and for the present was
+beyond repair.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But the wheels will go round, just the same,&quot; said
+Neil cheerfully. &quot;Keep your seat and I'll push you back.
+Where do you room?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Walton,&quot; was the answer. &quot;But I don't like to
+bother you, Mr. Fletcher. You see I have my crutches
+here, and I can get around very well on them.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nonsense, there's no use in your walking all the way
+to Walton. Here, I'll take the chain off and play horse.
+By the way, how'd you know my name?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, every one knows you since that kidnaping business,&quot;
+laughed the other, beginning to forget some of his
+shyness. &quot;And besides I've heard the coach speak to you
+at practise.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh,&quot; said Neil, who was now walking behind the
+tricycle and pushing it before him, &quot;then you've been out
+to the field, eh?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, I like to watch practise. I go out very nearly
+every day.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>[Illustration: &quot;I guess you've broken down,&quot; said Neil.]</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come to think of it, I believe I've seen you there,&quot;
+said Neil. &quot;It's wonderful how you can get around on
+this machine as you do. Isn't it hard work at times?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Rather, on grades, you know. But on smooth roads
+it goes very easily; besides, I've worked it every day
+almost for so long that I've got a pretty good muscle now.
+My father had this one made for me only two months ago
+to use here at Erskine. The last machine I had was very
+much heavier and harder to manage.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I guess being so light has made it weak,&quot; said Neil,
+&quot;or it wouldn't have broken down like this.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, I fancy that was more my fault than the tricycle's,&quot;
+answered the boy. As Neil was behind him he
+did not see the smile that accompanied the words.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, I'll take you home and then wheel the thing
+down to the bicycle repair-shop near the depot, eh?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, no, indeed,&quot; protested the other. &quot;I'll--I'll
+have them send up for it. I wouldn't have you go way
+down there with it for anything.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Pshaw! that's no walk; besides, if you have them
+send, it will be some time to-morrow afternoon before you
+get it back.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I sha'n't really need it before then,&quot; answered the
+lad earnestly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You might,&quot; said Neil. There was such a tone of
+finality in the reply that the boy on the seat yielded, but
+for an instant drew his face into a pucker of perplexity.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thank you,&quot; he said; &quot;it's awfully nice of you to take
+so much trouble.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I can't see that,&quot; Neil replied. &quot;I don't see how I
+could do any less. By the way, what's your name, if you
+don't mind?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sydney Burr.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Burr? That's why you were stuck there up the
+road,&quot; laughed Neil. &quot;We're in the same class, aren't
+we?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>At the middle entrance of Walton Hall Neil helped
+Burr on to his crutches, and would have assisted him up
+the steps had he not objected.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Please don't,&quot; he said, flushing slightly. &quot;I can get
+up all right; I do it every day. My room's on this floor,
+too. I'm awfully much obliged to you for what you've
+done. I wish you'd come and see me some time--No. 3.
+Do you--do you think you could?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Of course,&quot; Neil answered heartily, &quot;I'll be glad to.
+Three, you said? All right. I'll take this nag down to the
+blacksmith's now and get him reshod. If they can fix
+him right off I'll bring him back with me. Where do you
+stable him?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The janitor takes it down-stairs somewhere. If I'm
+not here just give it to him, please. I wish, though,
+you wouldn't bother about bringing it back.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'll ride him back,&quot; laughed Neil. &quot;Good-night.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good-night. Don't forget you're coming to see me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Sydney Burr smiled and, turning, climbed the steps
+with astonishing ease, using his crutches with a dexterity
+born of many years' dependence upon them. His lower
+limbs, slender and frail, swung from side to side, mere
+useless appendages. Neil sighed as he saw his new acquaintance
+out of sight, and then started on his errand
+with the tricycle.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Poor duffer!&quot; he muttered. &quot;And yet he seems
+cheerful enough, and looks happy. But to think of having
+to creep round on stilts or pull himself about on this
+contrivance! I mustn't forget to call on him; I dare say
+he hasn't many friends. He seems a nice chap, too;
+and he'd be frightfully good-looking if he wasn't so
+white.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It was almost dark when he reached the repair-shop
+near the railroad, and the proprietor, a wizened little bald-headed
+man, was preparing to go home.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Can't fix anything to-night,&quot; he protested shrilly.
+&quot;It's too late; come in the morning.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, if you think I'm going to wheel this thing
+back here to-morrow you've missed your guess,&quot; said Neil.
+&quot;All it needs is to have a chain link welded or glued or
+something; it won't take five minutes. And the fellow
+that owns it is a cripple and can't go out until this machine's
+fixed. Now go ahead, like a good chap; I'll hold
+your bonnet.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Eh? What bonnet?&quot; The little man stared perplexedly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I meant I'd help,&quot; answered Neil unabashed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Help! Huh! Lot's of help, you'd be to any one!
+Well, let's see it.&quot; He knelt and inspected the tricycle,
+grumbling all the while and shaking his head angrily.
+&quot;Who said it was broke?&quot; he demanded presently.
+&quot;Queer kind of break; looks like you'd pried the link
+apart with a cold-chisel.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, I didn't; nor with a hot chisel. Besides, I've
+just told you it didn't belong to me. Do I look like a
+cripple?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;More like a fool,&quot; answered the other with a
+chuckle.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You're a naughty old man,&quot; said Neil sorrowfully,
+&quot;and if you were my father I'd spank you.&quot; The other
+was too angry to find words, and contented himself with
+bending back the damaged link and emitting a series of
+choking sounds which Neil rightly judged to be expressions
+of displeasure. When the repair was finished he
+pushed the machine angrily toward the boy.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Take it and get out,&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thanks. How much?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Fifty cents,&quot; was the reply, given with a toothless
+grin and a chuckle. &quot;Twenty-five cents for the job and
+twenty-five cents for working after hours.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Cheap enough,&quot; answered Neil, laying a quarter
+on the bench. &quot;That's for the job; I'll owe you the
+rest.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>When he reached the first corner the proprietor of the
+repair-shop was still calling him names and shaking his
+fist in the air.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Looked just like a he-witch or something,&quot; chuckled
+Neil, as he propelled his steed toward the campus. &quot;Maybe
+he will put a curse upon me and my right foot will
+wither up and I won't be able to kick goals!&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2>
+
+<h3>NEIL MAKES THE VARSITY</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>On the 12th of October, Woodby College sent a team
+of light but very fast football players to Erskine with full
+determination to bring back the pigskin. And it very
+nearly succeeded. It was the first game of the season for
+Erskine, but Woodby had already played two, and was
+consequently rather more hardened. The first half ended
+with the score 6 to 6, and the spectators, fully three hundred
+supporters of the Purple, looked glum. Neil and
+Paul were given their chance in the second half, taking
+the places of Gillam and Smith. Many other changes
+were made, among them one which installed the newly
+discovered Browning at left guard vice Carey, removed
+to the bench.</p>
+
+<p>There was no use in attempting to disguise the fact
+that Woodby literally played all around the home team.
+Her backs gained almost at will on end runs, and her punting
+was immeasurably superior. Foster, the Erskine
+quarter-back, sent kick after kick high into the air, and
+twenty yards was his best performance. On defense
+Woodby was almost equally strong, and had Erskine not
+outweighted her in the line some five pounds per man,
+would have forced her to kick every time. As it was, the
+purple-clad backs made but small and infrequent gains
+through the line, and very shortly found that runs outside
+of tackle or end were her best cards, even though, as was
+several times the case, her runners were nailed back of her
+line for losses.</p>
+
+<p>Team play was as yet utterly lacking in the Erskine
+eleven, and though the men were as a rule individually
+brilliant or decidedly promising, Woodby had far the best
+of it there. Fumbles were many on both sides, but Erskine's
+were the most costly. Stone's fumble of a free
+kick soon after the second half began gave Woodby her
+second touch-down, from which, luckily, she failed to kick
+goal. The veterans on the team, Tucker at left tackle,
+Graham at center, Cowan at right-guard, Foster at
+quarter, and Devoe at right end, played well with the
+glaring exception of Cowan, whose work in the second
+half especially was so slipshod that Mills, with wrath in
+his eye, took him out and put in Bell, a second eleven man.</p>
+
+<p>With the score 11 to 6 against her, Erskine braced
+up and fought doggedly to score. Neil proved the best
+ground-gainer, and made several five-and ten-yard runs
+around right end. Once, with the ball on Woodby's
+twelve yards and the audience shouting vehemently for a
+touch-down, Foster called on Paul for a plunge through
+right tackle. Paul made two yards, but in some manner
+lost the ball, a fumble that put Erskine back on her fifty-yard
+line and that sent her hopes of tying the score down
+to zero.</p>
+
+<p>The second half was to be but fifteen minutes long,
+and fully ten of the fifteen had gone by when Erskine
+took up her journey toward Woodby's goal again. Mason,
+the full-back, and Neil were sent plunging, bucking, hurdling
+at the enemy's breastworks, and time after time just
+managed to gain their distance in the three downs. Fortune
+was favoring Erskine, and Woodby's lighter men
+were slower and slower in finding their positions after
+each pile-up. Then, with the pigskin on Woodby's twenty-eight
+yards, Neil was given the ball for a try outside of
+right tackle, and by brilliantly leaving his interference,
+which had become badly tangled up, got safely away and
+staggered over the line just at the corner. The punt-out
+was a success and Devoe kicked goal, making the score
+12 to 11 in Erskine's favor. For the rest of the half the
+home team was satisfied to keep Woodby away from its
+goal, and made no effort to score. Woodby left the field
+after the fashion of victors, which, practically, they were,
+while the Erskine players trotted subduedly back to the
+locker-house with unpleasant anticipations of what was
+before them--anticipations fully justified by subsequent
+events. For Mills tore them up very eloquently, and
+promised them that if they were scored on by the second
+eleven before the game with Harvard he'd send every
+man of them to the benches and take the second to Cambridge.</p>
+
+<p>Neil walked back to college beside Sydney Burr, insisting
+that that youth should take his hands from the levers
+and be pushed. Paul had got into the habit of always
+accompanying Cowan on his return from the field, and
+as Neil liked the big sophomore less and less the more
+he saw of him, he usually fell back on either Ted Foster
+or Sydney Burr for company. To-day it was Sydney.
+On the way that youth surprised Neil by his intelligent
+discussion and criticism of the game he had just
+watched.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How on earth did you get to know so much about
+football?&quot; asked Neil. &quot;You talk like a varsity coach.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do I?&quot; said Sydney, flushing with pleasure. &quot;I--I
+always liked the game, and I've studied it quite a bit
+and watched it all I could. Of course, I can never
+play, but I get a good deal of enjoyment out of it. Sometimes&quot;--his
+shyness returned momentarily and he hesitated--&quot;sometimes
+I make believe that I'm playing,
+you know; put myself, in imagination, in the place of one
+of the team. To-day I--to-day I was you,&quot; he added with
+a deprecatory laugh.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You don't say?&quot; cried Neil. Then the pathos of it
+struck him and he was silent a moment. The cripple's
+love and longing for sport in which he could never hope
+to join seemed terribly sad and gave him a choking sensation
+in his throat.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If I had been--like other fellows,&quot; continued Sydney,
+quite cheerfully, &quot;I should have played everything--football,
+baseball, hockey, tennis--everything! I'd
+give--anything I've got--if I could just run from here to
+the corner.&quot; He was silent a minute, looking before him
+with eyes from which the usual brightness was gone.
+Then, &quot;My, it must be good to run and walk and jump
+around just as you want to,&quot; he sighed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; muttered Neil, &quot;but--but that was a good
+little run you made to-day.&quot; Sydney looked puzzled,
+then laughed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;In the game, you mean? Yes, wasn't it? And I
+made a touch-down and won the game. I was awfully
+afraid at one time that that Woodby quarter-back was
+going to nab me; that's why I made for the corner of the
+field like that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I fancied that was the reason,&quot; answered Neil
+gravely. Then their eyes met and they laughed together.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Your friend Gale didn't play so well to-day,&quot; said
+Sydney presently. Neil shook his head with a troubled
+air.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, he played rotten ball, and that's a fact. I don't
+know what's got into him of late. He doesn't seem to care
+whether he pleases Mills or not. I think it's that chap
+Cowan. He tells Paul that Mills and Devoe are imposing
+on him and that he isn't getting a fair show and all that
+sort of stuff. Know Cowan?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Only by sight. I don't think I'd care to know him;
+he looks a good deal like--like--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Just so,&quot; laughed Neil. &quot;That's the way he strikes
+me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>After dinner that evening Paul bewailed what he
+called his ill luck. Neil listened patiently for a while;
+then--</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Look here, Paul,&quot; he said, &quot;don't talk such rot.
+Luck had nothing to do with it, and you know it. The
+trouble was that you weren't in shape; you've been shilly-shallying
+around of late and just doing good enough work
+to keep Mills from dropping you to the scrub. It's that
+miserable idiot Tom Cowan that's to blame; he's been filling
+your head with nonsense; telling you that you are so
+good that you don't have to practise, and that Mills
+doesn't dare drop you, and lots of poppycock of that kind.
+Now, I'll tell you, chum, that the best thing to do is to
+go honestly to work and do your best.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Paul was deeply insulted by this plain speaking, and
+very promptly took himself off up-stairs to Cowan's room.
+Of late he spent a good deal of his time there and Neil
+was getting worried. For Cowan was notably an idler,
+and the wonder was how he managed to keep himself in
+college even though he was taking but a partial course.
+To be sure, Cowan's fate didn't bother Neil a bit, but he
+was greatly afraid that his example would be followed by
+his roommate, who, at the best, was none too fond of
+study. Neil sat long that evening over an unopened book,
+striving to think of some method of weakening Cowan's
+hold on Paul--a hold that was daily growing stronger
+and which threatened to work ill to the latter. In the
+end Neil sighed, tossed down the volume, and made ready
+for bed without having found a solution of the problem.</p>
+
+<p>The following Monday Neil was rewarded for his good
+showing in the Woodby game by being taken on to the
+varsity. Paul remained on the second team, and Cowan,
+greatly to that gentleman's bewilderment and wrath,
+joined him there. The two teams, with their substitutes,
+went to training-table that day in Pearson's boarding-house
+on Elm Street, and preparation for the game with
+Harvard, now but nine days distant, began in earnest.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2>
+
+<h3>THE RESULT OF A FUMBLE</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>Sydney Burr had trundled himself out to the field
+and had drawn his tricycle close up to the low wooden
+fence that divides the gridiron from the grand stand and
+against which the players on the benches lean their
+blanketed backs. From there he had an uninterrupted
+view. It was a perfect afternoon. Overhead a few white
+clouds drifted lazily about against a warm blue sky. The
+sun shone brightly and mocked at light overcoats. But
+for all that there was an October sparkle in the air, and
+once in a while a tiny breeze from the north came across
+the yellowing field and whispered that winter was not far
+behind.</p>
+
+<p>Sydney had a rug thrown over his lower limbs and
+wore a warm white woolen sweater. There was quite a
+dash of color in his usually pale cheeks, and his blue eyes
+flashed with interest as he watched the men at practise.
+Near at hand a panting group of fellows were going
+through the signals, the quarter crying his numbers with
+gasps for breath, then passing the ball to half-or full-back
+and quickly throwing himself into the interference. Sydney
+recognized him as Bailey, the varsity substitute.
+Sydney knew almost all the players by sight now and the
+names of many.</p>
+
+<p>Near the east goal two lines of heaving, charging men
+were being coached by Mills in breaking through. Stowell,
+the big, good-natured substitute center, was bending
+over the ball. Sydney could hear Mills's sharp voice:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now draw back, defense, and lunge into them! Get
+the start on them!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then the ball was snapped and the two ranks heaved
+and pitched a moment before the offense broke through
+and scattered the turf with little clumps of writhing
+players.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That was good, Tucker, good!&quot; cried Mills. &quot;You
+did just as I told you. Now give the ball to the other side.
+Weight forward, defense, every one of you on his toes.
+<i>Browning, watch that ball!</i> Now get into them, every
+one! Block them!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>At the other end of the field six fellows were kicking
+goal and six others, stretched upon the turf, were holding
+the balls for them. Devoe was coaching. Sydney could
+see Neil, the farthest away of any, lifting the leather
+toward the posts from a difficult angle on the twenty-yard
+line. Even as he watched, the ball sailed away from Neil's
+toe and went fair over the cross-bar, and Sydney silently
+applauded. He set himself to recognizing the other kickers.
+There was Gale, the tall and rather heavy fellow in
+the crimson sleeves; and Mason, equally tall but all corners
+and angles; and Smith, and Gillam, and Foster.
+Devoe seemed to be laying down the law forcibly to Gale;
+he was gesticulating with his hands and nodding his head
+like a Chinese mandarin. Sydney could not hear what he
+was saying, nor could he see Gale's face; but in the attitude
+of the captain there was exasperation, and in that of
+Gale sullen impatience.</p>
+
+<p>Another group at signal practise drew nigh, and
+Sydney gave his attention to it. Reardon, the second
+eleven quarter, sang his signals in a queer, shrill voice
+that was irresistibly funny. In front of Sydney he raised
+himself, wiped his palms on his stained trousers, grimaced
+at one of the halves, and took a deep breath.
+Then--</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Signal</i>!&quot; he cried. &quot;<i>7--8--4--6!</i>&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Eight half bounded by him, full-back fell in behind
+and took the ball, left half dashed after, and the group
+trotted away to line up again ten yards down the field.
+But presently the lines at the east goal broke up and
+trotted toward the benches, and Mills called the players
+in from all parts of the field. The water-pail was surrounded
+and the thirsty players rinsed out their mouths,
+well knowing the reprimand that awaited should they be
+rash enough to take even one swallow. Sweaters were
+hurriedly donned, Simson dealing them out from the pile
+on the ground, and the fellows sank on to the benches.
+Neil saw Sydney, and talked to him over the fence until
+he heard his name called from the line-up.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think I shall make a touch-down to-day,&quot; said Sydney.
+Neil shook his head, smiling:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't know about that; you're not feeling so fit
+to-day, you know.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, that doesn't matter,&quot; answered the cripple.
+&quot;You just watch me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil laughed, and hurrying off, was fitted with his
+head harness and trotted out to his place. Sydney was
+mistaken, as events proved, for he--in the person of
+Neil Fletcher--failed to get over the second's goal-line in
+either of the short halves; which was also true of all the
+other varsity players. But if she didn't score, the varsity
+kept the second at bay, and that was a good deal. The
+second played desperately, being convinced that Mills
+would keep his promise and, if they succeeded in scoring
+on their opponents, give them the honor of facing Harvard
+the following Wednesday. But the varsity, being
+equally convinced of the fact, played quite as desperately,
+and the two teams trotted off with honors even.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sponge off, everybody!&quot; was the stentorian command
+from the trainer, and one by one the players leaned
+over while the big, dripping sponge was applied to face
+and head. Then sweaters were again donned and the
+four laps around the field began, the men trotting by twos
+and threes, or, in the case of the injured ones, trailing
+along behind.</p>
+
+<p>The next day, Wednesday, October 16th, Erskine
+played Dexter. Dexter is a preparatory school that has
+a way of turning out strong elevens, many of which in
+previous years had put up excellent fights against Erskine.
+On the present occasion Erskine went into the game with
+a line largely composed of substitutes and a back-field by
+no means as strong as possible. During the first half
+Dexter was forced to give all her attention to defending
+her goal, and had no time for incursions into Erskine territory.
+The home college ran up 17 points, Devoe missing
+one goal. In the second half Erskine made further
+changes in her team. Cowan took Witter's place at right-guard,
+Reardon went in at quarter in place of Bailey, and
+Neil, who had watched the first half greedily from the
+side-line, went in at left half.</p>
+
+<p>It was Dexter's kick-off, and she sent the ball fully
+forty yards. Reardon called to Neil to take it. That
+youth got it on his ten yards, and by fine dodging ran it
+back to the eighteen-yard line. From there it was advanced
+by straight line-plunging to Erskine's forty yards,
+and it seemed that a procession down the field to another
+touch-down had begun. But at this point Fate and Tom
+Cowan took a hand. Cowan was taken back of the line
+for a plunge through tackle. With right half and full
+lined up in tandem behind him he was given the ball and
+shot through easily for several yards. Then, his support
+gone, he staggered on for five yards more by sheer force
+of weight with two Dexter backs dragging at him, and
+there, for no apparent cause, dropped the pigskin. The
+Dexter quarter-back, running in to stop Cowan, was on
+it in a twinkling, had skirted the right end of the <i>m&ecirc;l&eacute;e</i>
+and was racing toward Erskine's goal. It had happened
+so quickly and unexpectedly that the runner was fifteen
+yards to the good before pursuit began. Devoe and Neil
+took up the chase, but it was a hopeless task, and in
+another minute the little band of crimson-adorned Dexter
+supporters and substitutes on the side-line were yelling
+like mad. The Dexter quarter placed the ball nicely
+behind the very center of the west goal, and when it was
+taken out none but a cripple could have failed to kick it
+over the cross-bar. As Dexter's left-end was not a cripple
+her score changed from a 5 to a 6.</p>
+
+<p>But that was the end of her offensive work for that
+afternoon. Erskine promptly took the ball from her after
+the kick-off, and kept it until Neil had punctured Dexter's
+line between left-guard and tackle and waded through a
+sea of clutching foes twelve yards for a touch-down.
+Devoe once more failed at goal, and five minutes later
+the game came to an end with the final score 22 to 6.
+Dexter was happy and Erskine disgruntled.</p>
+
+<p>In the locker-house after the game Mills had some
+sharp things to say, and didn't hesitate to say them in his
+best manner. There was absolutely no favoritism shown;
+he began at one end of the line and went to the other,
+then dropped back to left half, took in quarter on the
+way, and ended up with full. Some got off easy; Neil
+was among them; and so was Devoe, for it is not a good
+policy for a coach to endanger a captain's authority
+by public criticism; but when it was all over no one
+felt slighted. And when all were beginning to breathe
+easier, thinking the storm had passed, it burst forth
+anew.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Cowan, I don't see how you came to drop that ball,&quot;
+said Mills, in fresh exasperation. &quot;Why, great Scott,
+man, there was no one touching you except a couple of
+schoolboys tugging at your legs! What was the matter?
+Paralysis? Vertigo? Or haven't you learned yet, after
+two years of football playing, to hang on to the ball?
+There's a cozy nook waiting on the second scrub for fellows
+like you!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Cowan, his pride already sorely wounded, found the
+last too much for his temper.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No one can help an occasional accident,&quot; he blurted.
+&quot;If I did fumble, there's no reason why you should insult
+me. Lots of fellows have fumbled before and got off
+without being walked on. I've played my position for two
+years, and I guess I know how to do it. But when a
+fellow is singled out as a--a scapegoat--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That will do, Cowan,&quot; interrupted Mills quietly.
+&quot;You've lost your temper. We don't want men on this
+team who can't stand criticism--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Criticism!&quot; sneered Cowan, looking very red and
+ugly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, criticism!&quot; answered Mills sharply, &quot;and scolding,
+too, my friend. I'm here to turn out a team that will
+win from Robinson and not to cater to any one's vanity;
+when it's necessary, I'm going to scold and say some hard
+things. But I've never insulted any fellow and I never
+will. I've had my eye on you ever since practise began,
+Cowan, and let me tell you that you haven't at any time
+passed muster; your playing's been slovenly, careless, and
+generally mean. You've soldiered half the time. And
+I think we can get along without you for the rest of the
+season.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mills, his blue eyes sparkling, turned away, and Stowell
+and White, who for a minute past had been striving
+to check Cowan's utterances, now managed to drag him
+away.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Shut up!&quot; whispered White hoarsely. &quot;Don't be
+a fool! Come out of here!&quot; And they hauled him outside,
+where, on the porch, he gave vent anew to his wrath
+until they left him finally in disgust.</p>
+
+<p>He slouched in to see Paul after dinner that evening,
+much to Neil's impatience, and taking up a commanding
+position on a corner of the study-table, recited his tale of
+injustice with great eloquence. Paul, who had spent the
+afternoon with other unfortunates on the benches, was
+full of sympathy.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It's a dirty shame, Tom,&quot; he said. &quot;And I'm glad
+you waded into Mills the way you did. It was fine!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Little white-haired snake!&quot; exclaimed Cowan.
+&quot;Drops me from training just because I make a fumble!
+Why, you've fumbled, Paul, and so's Fletcher here; lots
+of times. But he doesn't lay <i>you</i> off! Oh, dear, no;
+you're swells whose names will look well in the line-up
+for the Robinson game! But here I've played on the
+team for two years, and now off I go just because I
+dropped a ball. It's rank injustice!</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I suppose he thinks I've got to play football here.
+If he does he's away off, that's all. I could have gone to
+Robinson this fall and had everything I wanted. They
+guaranteed me a position at guard or tackle, and I
+wouldn't have needed to bother with studies as I do here,
+either.&quot; The last remark called a smile to Neil's face,
+and Cowan unfortunately glanced his way and saw it.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I dare say if I was willing to toady to Mills and
+Devoe, and tell everybody they're the finest football leaders
+that ever came down the pike, it would be different,&quot;
+he sneered angrily. &quot;Maybe then Mills would give me
+private instruction in goal-kicking and let me black his
+boots for him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil closed his book and leaned back in his chair, a
+little disk of red in each cheek.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now, look here, Tom Cowan, let's have this out,&quot;
+he said quietly. &quot;You're hitting at me, of course--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, keep out, chum,&quot; protested Paul. &quot;Cowan
+hasn't mentioned you once.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He doesn't need to,&quot; answered Neil. &quot;I understand
+without it. But let me tell you, Cowan, that I do not
+toady to either Mills or Devoe. I do treat them, however,
+as I would any one who was in authority over me.
+I don't think merely because I've played the game before
+that I know all the football there is to know.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Meaning that I do?&quot; growled Cowan.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I mean that you've got a swelled head, Cowan, and
+that when Mills said you hadn't been doing your best he
+only told the truth, and what every fellow knows.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Shut up, Neil!&quot; cried Paul angrily. &quot;It isn't necessary
+for you to pitch into Cowan just because he's down
+on his luck.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't mind him,&quot; said Cowan, eying Neil with
+hatred. &quot;He's sore about what I said. I dare say I
+shouldn't have said it. If he's Mills's darling--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil pushed back his chair, and rose to his feet with
+blazing eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Kindly get out of here,&quot; he said. &quot;I've had enough
+of your insults. This is my room; please leave it!&quot;
+Cowan stared a moment in surprise, hesitated, threw a
+glance of inquiry at Paul's troubled and averted face, and
+slid from the table.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Of course you can put me out of your room,&quot; he
+sneered. &quot;For that matter, I'm glad to leave it. I did
+think, though, that part of the shop was Paul's, but I
+dare say he has to humor you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The room's as much mine as his,&quot; said Paul, &quot;and I
+want you to stay in it.&quot; He looked defiantly over at his
+friend. Neil had not bargained for a quarrel with Paul,
+but was too incensed to back down.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And I say you sha'n't stay,&quot; he declared. &quot;Paul and
+I will settle the proprietorship of the room after you're
+out of it. Now you get!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Maybe you'll put me out?&quot; asked Cowan with a show
+of bravado. But he glanced toward the door as he spoke.
+Neil nodded.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Maybe I will,&quot; he answered grimly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Cowan's my guest, Neil!&quot; cried Paul. &quot;And
+you've no right to put him out, and I sha'n't let you!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He'll go out of here, if I have to fight him and you
+too, Paul!&quot; Paul stared in wonderment. He was so
+used to being humored by his roommate that this declaration
+of war took his breath away. Cowan laughed with
+attempted nonchalance.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Your friend's a bit chesty, Paul,&quot; he said. &quot;Perhaps
+we'd better humor him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, stay where you are,&quot; said Paul. &quot;If he thinks
+he's boss of me he's mistaken.&quot; He glared wrathfully at
+Neil, and yet with a trifle of uneasiness. Paul was no
+coward, but physical conflict with Neil was something so
+contrary to the natural order that it appalled him. Neil
+removed the gorgeous bottle-green velvet jacket that he
+wore in the evenings, and threw open the study door.
+Then he faced Cowan. That gentleman returned his gaze
+for a moment defiantly. But something in Neil's expression
+caused his eyes to drop and seek the portal. He
+laughed uneasily, and with simulated indifference laid his
+hand on Paul's shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come on, old chap,&quot; he said, &quot;let's get out before
+we're torn to bits. There's no pleasure in staying with
+such a disagreeable fire-eater, anyhow. Come up to my
+room, and let him cool off.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Paul hesitated, and then turned to follow Cowan, who
+was strolling toward the door. Angry as he was, deep in
+his heart he was glad to avoid conflict with his chum.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;All right,&quot; he answered in a voice that trembled,
+&quot;we'll go; but&quot;--turning to Neil--&quot;if you think I'm
+going to put up with this sort of thing, you're mistaken.
+You can have this room, and I'll get another.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'd suggest your rooming with Cowan,&quot; answered
+Neil, &quot;since you're so fond of him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Your friend's jealous,&quot; laughed Cowan from the
+hall. Paul joined him, slamming the door loudly as he
+went.</p>
+
+<p>Neil heard Cowan's laughter and the sound of their
+steps as they climbed the stairs. For several moments he
+stood motionless, staring at the door. Then he shook his
+head, donned his jacket, and sat down again. Now that
+it was done, he was intensely sorry. As for the quarrel
+with Cowan, that troubled not at all; but an open breach
+with Paul was something new and something which, just
+at this time especially, might work for ill. Paul was
+already so far under Cowan's domination that anything
+tending to foster their friendship was unfortunate. Neil
+was ashamed, too, of his burst of temper, and the remainder
+of the evening passed miserably enough.</p>
+
+<p>When Paul returned he was cold and repellent, and
+answered Neil's attempts at conversation in monosyllables.
+Neil, however, was glad to find that Paul said nothing
+further about a change of quarters, and in that fact found
+encouragement. After all, Paul would soon get over his
+anger, he told himself; the two had been firm friends for
+three years, and it would take something more than the
+present affair to estrange them.</p>
+
+<p>But as the days passed and Paul showed no disposition
+to make friends again, Neil began to despair. He knew
+that Cowan was doing all in his power to widen the breach
+and felt certain that left to himself Paul would have forgotten
+his grievance long ago. Paul spent most of his
+time in Cowan's room when at home, and Neil passed many
+dull hours. One thing there was, however, which pleased
+him. Cowan's absence from the field worked a difference
+from the first in Paul's playing, and the latter was now
+evidently putting his heart into his work. He made such
+a good showing between the day of Cowan's dismissal and
+the following Wednesday that he was scheduled to play
+right half against Harvard, and was consequently among
+the little army of players and supporters that journeyed
+to Cambridge on that day.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2>
+
+<h3>ON THE HOSPITAL LIST</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>Harvard's good showing thus far during the season
+convinced Erskine that could she hold the crimson warriors
+down to five scores she would be doing remarkably
+well, and that could she, by any miracle, cross Harvard's
+goal-line she would be practically victorious. The team
+that journeyed to Cambridge on October 23d was made
+up as follows:</p>
+
+<p>Stone, l.e.; Tucker, l.t.; Carey, l.g.; Stowell, c.;
+Witter, r.g.; White, r.t.; Devoe, r.e.; Foster, q.b.;
+Fletcher, l.h.b.; Gale, r.h.b.; Mason, f.b.</p>
+
+<p>Besides these, eight substitutes went along and some
+thirty patriotic students followed. Among the latter was
+Sydney Burr and &quot;Fan&quot; Livingston. Neil had brought
+the two together, and Livingston had readily taken to the
+crippled youth. In Livingston's care Sydney had no difficulty
+in making the trip to Soldiers Field and back comfortably
+and safely.</p>
+
+<p>There is no need to tell in detail here of the Harvard-Erskine
+contest. Those who saw it will give Erskine credit
+for a plucky struggle against a heavier, more advanced,
+and much superior team. In the first half Harvard scored
+three times, and the figures were 17-0. In the second
+half both teams put in several substitutes. For Erskine,
+Browning went in for Carey, Graham for Stowell, Hurst
+for Witter, Pearse for Mason, and Bailey for Foster. In
+this half Harvard crossed Erskine's goal-line three more
+times without much difficulty, while Erskine made the
+most of a stroke of rare good luck, and changed her goose-egg
+for the figure 5.</p>
+
+<p>On the Purple's forty yards Harvard fumbled, not for
+the first time that day, and Neil, more by accident than
+design, got the pigskin on the bounce, and, skirting the
+opposing right end, went up the field for a touch down
+without ever being in danger. The Erskine supporters
+went mad with delight, and the Harvard stand was ruefully
+silent. Devoe missed a difficult goal and a few minutes
+later the game ended with a final score of 34-5.
+Mills, however, would gladly have yielded that five points,
+if by so doing he could have taken ten from the larger
+score. He was disappointed in the team's defense, and
+realized that a wonderful improvement was necessary if
+Robinson was to be defeated.</p>
+
+<p>And so the Erskine players were plainly given to
+understand the next day that they had not acquired all the
+glory they thought they had. The advance guard of the
+assistant coaches put in an appearance in the shape of
+Jones and Preston, both old Erskine football men, and
+took hold with a vim. Jones, a former guard, a big man
+with bristling black hair, took the line men under his
+wing and made them jump. Neil, Paul, and several others
+were taken in hand by Preston, and were daily put
+through a vigorous course of punting and kicking. Neil
+was fast acquiring speed and certainty in the art of kicking
+goals from drop and placement, while Paul promised to
+turn out a fair second choice.</p>
+
+<p>Jones, as every one soon learned, was far from satisfied
+with the line of material at his disposal. He wanted
+more weight, especially in the center trio, and was soon
+pleading with Mills to have Cowan reinstated. The head
+coach ultimately relented, and Devoe was given to understand
+that if Cowan expressed himself decently regretful
+and determined to do good work he could go back into the
+second. The big sophomore, who, by his frequent avowals,
+was in college for no other purpose than to play football,
+had simply been lost since his dismissal, and, upon hearing
+Devoe's message, eagerly came off his high horse and made
+a visit to Mills. What he said and what Mills said is not
+known; but Cowan went back into the second team at
+right-guard, and on Saturday was given a try at that position
+in the game with Erstham. He did so well that Jones
+was highly pleased, and Mills found it in his heart to forgive.
+The results of the Erstham game were both unexpected
+and important.</p>
+
+<p>Instead of the comparatively easy victory anticipated,
+Erskine barely managed to save herself from being played
+to a standstill, and the final figures were 6-0 in her
+favor. The score was made in the last eight minutes
+of the second half by fierce line-bucking, but not before
+half of the purple line had given place to substitutes, and
+one of the back-field had been carried bodily off the
+gridiron.</p>
+
+<p>With the ball on Erstham's twenty-six yards, where it
+had been desperately carried by the relentless plunging and
+hurdling of Neil, Smith, and Mason, Erstham twice successfully
+repelled the onslaught, and it was Erskine's third
+down with two yards to gain. To lose the ball by kicking
+was the last thing to be thought of, and so, despite the
+fact that hitherto well-nigh every attempt at end running
+had met with failure, Foster gave the ball to Neil for a try
+around the Erstham left end. It was a forlorn hope, and
+unfortunately Erstham was looking for it. Neil found his
+outlet blocked by his own interference, and was forced
+to run far out into the field. The play was a failure from
+the first. Erstham's big right half and an equally big
+line man tackled Neil simultaneously for a loss and threw
+him heavily.</p>
+
+<p>When they got off him Neil tried to arise, but, with a
+groan, subsided again on the turf. The whistle blew and
+Simson ran on. Neil was evidently suffering a good deal
+of pain, for his face was ashen and he rolled his head from
+side to side with eyes half closed. His right arm lay outstretched
+and without movement, and in an instant the
+trouble was found. Simson examined the injury quickly
+and called for the doctor, who probed Neil's shoulder with
+knowing fingers, while the latter's white face was being
+sopped with the dripping sponge.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Right shoulder's dislocated, Jim,&quot; said Dr. Prentiss
+quietly to the trainer. &quot;Take hold here; put your hands
+here, and pull toward you steadily. Now!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then Neil fainted.</p>
+
+<p>When he regained consciousness he was being borne
+from the field between four of his fellows. At the locker-house
+the injured shoulder was laid bare, and the doctor
+went to work.</p>
+
+<p>The pain had subsided, and only a queer soreness remained.
+Neil watched operations with interest, his face
+fast regaining its color.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nothing much, is it?&quot; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not a great deal. You've smashed your shoulder-blade
+a bit, and maybe torn a ligament. I'll fix you up in
+a minute.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Will it keep me from playing?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, for a while, my boy.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Bandage after bandage was swathed about the
+shoulder, and the arm was fixed in what Neil conceived
+to be the most unnatural and awkward position
+possible.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How long is this going to lay me up?&quot; he asked
+anxiously. But the doctor shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Can't tell yet. We'll see how you get along.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, a week?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Maybe.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Two?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Possibly.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But--but it can't! It mustn't!&quot; he cried. The
+door opened and Simson entered. &quot;Simson,&quot; he called,
+&quot;he says this may keep me laid up for two weeks. It
+won't, will it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I hope not, Fletcher. But you must get it well
+healed, or else it may go back on you again. Don't worry
+about--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't worry! But, great Scott, the Robinson game's
+only a month off!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The trainer patted his arm soothingly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I know, but we must make the best of it. It's hard
+lines, but the only thing to do is to take care of yourself
+and get well as soon as possible. The doc will get you out
+again as soon as it can be done, but you'll have to be doing
+your part, Fletcher, and keeping quiet and cheerful--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Cheerful!&quot; groaned Neil.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And getting strong. Now you're fixed and I'll go
+over to your room with you. How do you feel?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;All right, I suppose,&quot; replied Neil hopelessly.</p>
+
+<p>Simson walked beside him back to college and across
+the campus and the common to his room, and saw him
+installed in an easy-chair with a pillow behind the injured
+shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There you are,&quot; said the trainer. &quot;Prentiss will look
+in this evening and I'll see you in the morning. You'd
+better keep indoors for a few days, you know. I'll have
+your meals sent over. Don't worry about this, but keep
+yourself cheerful and--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil leaned his head against the pillow and closed his
+eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, go 'way,&quot; he muttered miserably.</p>
+
+<p>When Paul came in half an hour later he found Neil
+staring motionless out of the window, settled melancholy
+on his face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How bad is it, chum?&quot; asked Paul. He hadn't
+called Neil &quot;chum&quot; for over a week--not since their
+quarrel.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Bad enough to spoil my chances for the Robinson
+game,&quot; answered Neil bitterly. Paul gave vent to a low
+whistle.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;By Jove! I am sorry, old chap. That's beastly, isn't
+it? What does Prentiss say?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil told him and gained some degree of animation
+in fervid protestation against his fate. For want of another,
+he held the doctor to account for everything, only
+admitting Simson to an occasional share in the blame.
+Paul looked genuinely distressed, joining him in denunciation
+of Prentiss and uttering such bits of consolation as
+occurred to him. These generally consisted of such original
+remarks as &quot;Perhaps it won't be as bad as they
+think.&quot; &quot;I don't believe doctors know everything, after
+all.&quot; &quot;Mills will make them get you around before two
+weeks, I'll bet.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>After dinner Paul returned to report a state of general
+gloom at training-table.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Every one's awfully sorry and cut up about it, chum.
+Mills says he'll come and look you up in the morning, and
+told me to tell you to keep your courage up.&quot; After his
+information had given out, Paul walked restlessly about
+the study, taking up book after book only to lay it down
+again, and behaving generally like a fish out of water.
+Neil, grateful for the other's sympathy, and secretly delighted
+at the healing of the breach, could afford to be
+generous.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I say, Paul, I'll be all right. Just give me the
+immortal Livy, will you? Thanks. And you might put
+that tray out of the way somewhere and shove the drop-light
+a bit nearer. That's better. I'll be all right now;
+you run along.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Run along where?&quot; asked Paul.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, I thought maybe you were going out or--somewhere.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Paul's face expressed astonishment. He took up a
+book and settled himself firmly in the wicker rocking-chair.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No,&quot; he said, &quot;I'm not going anywhere.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil studied in silence a while, and Paul turned several
+pages of his book. Then footsteps sounded on the
+stairs and Cowan's voice hailed Paul from beyond the
+closed door.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;O Paul, are you coming along?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Paul glanced irresolutely from the door to Neil's face,
+which was bent calmly over his book. Then--&quot;No,&quot;
+he called gruffly, &quot;not to-night!&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2>
+
+<h3>SYDNEY STUDIES STRATEGY</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>Neil was holding a levee. Livingston shared the
+couch with him. Foster reclined in Paul's armchair.
+Sydney Burr sat in the protesting wicker rocker, his
+crutches beside him, and South, his countenance much disfigured
+by strips of surgeon's plaster, grinned steadily
+from the table, where he sat and swung his feet. Paul
+was up-stairs in Cowan's room, for while he and Neil had
+quite made up their difference, and while Paul spent much
+of his leisure time with his chum, yet he still cultivated
+the society of the big sophomore at intervals. Neil, however,
+believed he could discern a gradual lessening of
+Paul's regard for Cowan, and was encouraged. He had
+grown to look upon his injury and the idleness it enforced
+with some degree of cheerfulness since it had brought
+about reconciliation between him and his roommate, and,
+as he believed, rescued the latter to some extent from the
+influence of Cowan.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Doc says the shoulder is 'doing nicely,' whatever
+that may mean,&quot; Neil was saying, &quot;and that I will likely
+be able to get back to light work next week.&quot; The
+announcement didn't sound very joyful, for it was now only
+the evening of the fourth day since the accident, and
+&quot;next week&quot; seemed a long way off to him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It was hard luck, old man,&quot; said South.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Your sympathy's very dear to me,&quot; answered Neil,
+&quot;but it would seem more genuine if you'd stop grinning
+from ear to ear.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Can't,&quot; replied South. &quot;It's the plaster.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He's been looking like the Cheshire cat for two
+days,&quot; said Livingston. &quot;You see, when they patched
+him up they asked if he was suffering much agony, and he
+grinned that way just to show that he was a hero, and before
+he could get his face straight they had the plaster
+on. He gets credit for being much better natured than he
+really is.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Credit!&quot; said South. &quot;I get worse than that.
+'Sandy' saw me grinning at him in class yesterday and
+got as mad as a March hare; said I was 'deesrespectful.'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But how did it happen?&quot; asked Neil, struggling with
+his laughter.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Lacrosse,&quot; replied South. &quot;Murdoch was tending
+goal and I was trying to get the ball by him. I tripped
+over his stick and banged my face against a goal-iron.
+That's all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Seems to me it's enough,&quot; said Foster. &quot;What did
+you do to Murdoch?&quot; South opened his eyes in innocent
+surprise.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nothing.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nothing be blowed, my boy. Murdoch's limping to
+beat the band.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh!&quot; grinned South. &quot;That was afterward; he got
+mixed up with my stick, and, I fear, hurt his shins.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well,&quot; said Neil, when the laughter was over,
+&quot;football seems deadly enough, but I begin to think
+it's a parlor game for rainy evenings alongside of lacrosse.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There won't be many fellows left for the Robinson
+game,&quot; said Sydney, &quot;if they keep on getting hurt.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's so,&quot; Livingston concurred. &quot;Fletcher,
+White, Jewell, Brown, Stowell--who else?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, I'm not feeling well myself,&quot; said Foster.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We were referring to <i>players</i>, Teddy, my love,&quot;
+replied South sweetly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Insulted!&quot; cried Foster, leaping wildly to his feet.
+&quot;It serves me right for associating with a lot of freshmen.
+Good-night, Fletcher, my wounded gladiator. Get
+well and come back to us; all will be forgiven.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'd like the chance of forgiving the fellow that
+jumped on my shoulder,&quot; said Neil. &quot;I'd send him to
+join Murdoch.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's not nice,&quot; answered Foster gravely. &quot;Forgive
+your enemies. Good-night, you cubs.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hold on,&quot; said Livingston, &quot;I'm going your way.
+Good-night, Fletcher. Cheer up and get well. We need
+you and so does the team. Remember the class is looking
+forward to seeing you win a few touch-downs in the Robinson
+game.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, I'll be all right,&quot; answered Neil, &quot;and if they'll
+let me into the game I'll do my best. Only--I'm afraid
+I'll be a bit stale when I get out again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not you,&quot; declared Livingston heartily. &quot;'Age
+can not wither nor custom stale your infinite variety.'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's a quotation from--somebody,&quot; said South
+accusingly. &quot;'Fan' wants us to think he made it up.
+Besides, I don't think it's correct; it should be, 'Custom
+can not age nor wither stale your various interests.' Hold
+on, I'm not particular; I'll walk along with you two. But
+fortune send we don't meet the Dean,&quot; he continued, as
+he slid to the floor. &quot;I called on him Monday; a little
+affair of too many cuts; 'Mr. South,' said he sorrowfully,
+'avoid two things while in college--idleness and evil
+associations.' I promised, fellows, and here I am breaking
+that promise. Farewell, Fletcher; bear up under your
+great load of affliction. Good-night, Burr. Kindly see
+that he gets his medicine regularly every seven minutes,
+and don't let him sleep in a draft; pajamas are much
+warmer.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come on, you grinning idiot,&quot; said Foster.</p>
+
+<p>When the door had closed upon the three, Sydney
+placed his crutches under his arms and moved over to the
+chair beside the couch.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Look here, Neil, you don't really think, do you, that
+you'll have any trouble getting back into your place?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I hardly know. Of course two weeks of idleness
+makes a big difference. And besides, I'm losing a lot of
+practise. This new close-formation that Mills is teaching
+will be Greek to me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It's simple enough,&quot; said Sydney. &quot;The backs are
+bunched right up to the line, the halfs on each side of
+quarter, and the full just behind him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, but I don't see--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Wait,&quot; interrupted Sydney, &quot;I'll show you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He drew a folded sheet of paper from his pocket and
+passed it to the other. Neil scowled over it a moment,
+and then looked up helplessly.</p>
+
+<br><p class="ctr"><img src="images/illus-153.png" width="80%" alt=""></p><br>
+
+<p>&quot;What is it?&quot; he asked. &quot;Something weird in geometry?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No,&quot; laughed Sydney, &quot;it's a play from close-formation.
+I drew it this morning.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh,&quot; said Neil. &quot;Let's see; what--Here, explain
+it; where do I come in?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, your position is at the left of quarter, behind
+the center-guard, and a little farther back. Full stands
+directly behind quarter. See?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Pshaw! if we get into a crowd like that,&quot; said Neil,
+&quot;we'll get all tied up.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No you won't; not the way Mills and Devoe are
+teaching it. You see, the idea is to knife the backs
+through; there isn't any plunging to speak of and not
+much hurdling. The forwards open up a hole, and almost
+before the ball's well in play one of the backs is
+squirming through. Quarter gives you the ball at a hand-pass,
+always; there's no long passing done; except, of
+course, for a kick. Being right up to the line when
+play begins it only takes you a fraction of a second to
+hit it; and then, if the hole's there you're through
+before the other side has opened their eyes. Of
+course, it all depends on speed and the ability of the
+line-men to make holes. You've got to be on your
+toes, and you've got to get off them like a streak of
+lightning.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, maybe it's all right,&quot; said Neil doubtfully,
+&quot;but it looks like a mix-up. Who gets the ball in this play
+here?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Right half. Left half plunges through between left-guard
+and center to make a diversion. Full-back goes
+through between left tackle and end ahead of right half,
+who carries the ball. Quarter follows. Of course the play
+can be made around end instead. What do you think
+of it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;All right; but--I think I'd ought to have the
+ball.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You would when the play went to the right,&quot;
+laughed Sydney. &quot;The fact is, I--this particular play
+hasn't been used. I sort of got it up myself. I don't
+know whether it would be any good. I sometimes try my
+hand at inventing plays, just for fun, you know.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Really?&quot; exclaimed Neil. &quot;Well, you are smart.
+I could no more draw all those nice little cakes and pies
+and things than I could fly. And it--it looks plausible,
+I think. But I'm no authority on this sort of thing. Are
+you going to show it to Devoe?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, no; I dare say it's no use. It may be as old as
+the hills; I suppose it is. It's hard to find anything new
+nowadays in football plays.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But you don't know,&quot; said Neil. &quot;Maybe it's a
+good thing. I'll tell you, Syd, you let me have this, and
+I'll show it to Mills.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, I'd rather not,&quot; protested Sydney, reddening.
+&quot;Of course it doesn't amount to anything; I dare say
+he's thought of it long ago.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But maybe he hasn't,&quot; Neil persuaded. &quot;Come, let
+me show it to him, like a good chap.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well--But couldn't you let him think you did
+it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No; I'd be up a tree if he asked me to explain it.
+But don't you be afraid of Mills; he's a fine chap. Come
+and see me to-morrow night, will you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Sydney agreed, and, arising, swung himself across the
+study to where his coat and cap lay.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;By the way,&quot; he asked, &quot;where's Paul to-night?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He's calling on Cowan,&quot; answered Neil.</p>
+
+<p>Sydney looked as though he wanted to say something
+and didn't dare. Finally he found courage.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I should think he'd stay in his room now that you're
+laid up,&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, he does,&quot; answered Neil. &quot;Paul's all right,
+only he's a bit--careless. I guess I've humored him too
+much. Good-night. Don't forget to-morrow night.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mills called the following forenoon. Ever since
+Neil's accident he had made it his duty to inquire daily
+after him, and the two were getting very well acquainted.
+Neil likened Mills to a crab--rather crusty on the outside,
+he told himself, but all right when you got under the
+shell. Neil was getting under the shell.</p>
+
+<p>To-day, after Neil had reported on his state of health
+and spirits, he brought out Sydney's diagram. Mills examined
+it carefully, silently, for some time. Then he
+nodded his head.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not bad; rather clever. Who did it; you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, I couldn't if I was to be killed. Sydney Burr
+did it. Maybe you've seen him. A cripple; goes around
+on a tricycle.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, I've seen the boy. But does he--has he
+played?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Never; he's been a crip all his life.&quot; Mills opened
+his eyes in astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, if that's so this is rather wonderful. It's a
+good play, Fletcher, but it's not original; that is, not altogether.
+But as far as Burr's concerned it is, of course.
+Look here, the fellow ought to be encouraged. I'll see
+him and tell him to try his hand again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He's coming here this evening,&quot; said Neil. &quot;Perhaps
+you could look in for a moment?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will. Let me take this; I want Jones to see it.
+He thinks he's a wonder at diagrams,&quot; laughed Mills,
+&quot;and I want to tell him this was got up by a crippled
+freshman who has never kicked a ball!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And so that evening Mills and Neil and Sydney
+gathered about the big study-table and talked long about
+gridiron tactics and strategy and the art of inventing
+plays. Mills praised Sydney's production and encouraged
+him to try again.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But let me tell you first how we're situated,&quot; said
+the head coach, &quot;so that you will see just what we're
+after. Our material is good but light. Robinson will
+come into the field on the twenty-third weighing about
+eight pounds more to a man in the line and ten pounds
+more behind it. That's bad enough, but she's going to play
+tackle-back about the way we've taught the second eleven
+to play it. Her tackles will weigh about one hundred and
+eighty-five pounds each. She will take one of those men,
+range him up in front of our center-guard hole, and put
+two backs with him, tandem fashion. When that trio,
+joined by the other half and the quarter, hits our line
+it's going right through it--that is, unless we can find
+some means of stopping it. So far we haven't found that
+means. We've tried several things; we're still trying;
+but we haven't found the play we want.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If we're to win that game we've got to play on the
+defensive; we've got to stop tackle-back and rely on an
+end run now and then and lots of punting to get us within
+goal distance. Then our play is to score by a quick run or
+a field-goal. The offense we're working up--we'll call it
+close-formation for want of a better name--is, we think,
+the best we can find. The idea is to open holes quickly
+and jab a runner through before our heavier and necessarily
+slower opponents can concentrate their weight at
+the point of attack. For the close-formation we have, I
+think, plays covering every phase. And so, while a good
+offensive strategy will be welcome, yet what we stand in
+greatest need of is a play to stop Robinson's tackle-tandem.
+Now you apparently have ability in this line, Mr.
+Burr; and, what's more, you have the time to study the
+thing up. Supposing you try your hand and see what
+you can do. If you can find what we want--something
+that the rest of us can't find, by the way--you'll be doing
+as much, if not more, than any of us toward securing a
+victory over Robinson. And don't hesitate to come and
+see me if you find yourself in a quandary or whenever
+you've got anything to show.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And Sydney trundled himself back to his room and
+sat up until after midnight puzzling his brains over the
+tackle-tandem play, finally deciding that a better understanding
+of the play was necessary before he could hope
+to discover its remedy. When he crawled into bed and
+closed his tired eyes it was to see a confused jumble of
+orange-hued lines and circles running riot in the darkness.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2>
+
+<h3>MAKES A CALL</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>Despite Neil's absence from Erskine Field, preparation
+for the crowning conflict of the year went on with
+vigor and enthusiasm. The ranks of the coaches were
+swelled from day to day by patriotic alumni, some of
+whom were of real help, others of whom merely stood
+around in what Devoe called their &quot;store clothes&quot; and
+looked wonderfully wise. Some came to stay and took
+up quarters in the village, but the most merely tarried
+overnight, and, having unburdened themselves to Mills
+and Devoe of much advice, went away again, well pleased
+with their devotion to alma mater.</p>
+
+<p>The signals in use during the preliminary season had
+now been discarded in favor of the more complicated
+system prepared for the &quot;big game.&quot; Each day there
+was half an hour of secret practise behind closed gates,
+after which the assistant coaches emerged looking very
+wise and very solemn. The make-up of the varsity
+eleven had changed not a little since the game with
+Woodby, and was still being changed. Some positions
+were, however, permanently filled. For instance, Browning
+had firmly established his right to play left-guard,
+while the deposed Carey found a r&ocirc;le eminently suited
+to him at right tackle. Stowell became first choice for
+center, and the veteran Graham went over to the second
+team. Stone at left end, Tucker at left tackle, Devoe
+at right end, and Foster at quarter, were fixtures.</p>
+
+<p>The problem of finding a man for the position of
+left half in place of Neil had finally been solved by moving
+Paul over there from the other side and giving his
+place to Gillam, a last year substitute. Paul's style of
+play was very similar to Neil's. He was sure on his feet,
+a hard, fast runner, and his line-plunging was often brilliant
+and effective. The chief fault with him was that
+he was erratic. One day he played finely, the next so
+listlessly as to cause the coaches to shake their heads.
+His goal-kicking left something to be desired, but as yet
+he was as good in that line as any save Neil. Gillam,
+although light, was a hard line-bucker and a hurdler
+that was afraid of nothing. In fact he gave every indication
+of excelling Paul by the time the Robinson game
+arrived.</p>
+
+<p>One cause of Paul's uneven playing was the fact that
+he was worried about his studies. He was taking only the
+required courses, seven in all, making necessary an attendance
+of sixteen hours each week; but Greek and mathematics
+were stumbling-blocks, and he was in daily fear
+lest he find himself forbidden to play football. He knew
+well enough where the trouble lay; he simply didn't give
+enough time to study. But, somehow, what with the all-absorbing
+subject of making the varsity and the hundred
+and one things that took up his time, the hours remaining
+for &quot;grinding&quot; were all too few. He wondered how
+Neil, who seemed quite as busy as himself, managed to
+give so much time to books.</p>
+
+<p>In one of his weekly evening talks to the football
+men Mills had strongly counseled attention to study.
+There was no excuse, he had asserted, for any of the candidates
+shirking lessons.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;On the contrary, the fact that you are in training,
+that you are living with proper regard for sleep, good
+food, fresh air, and plenty of hard physical work, should
+and does make you able to study better. In my experience,
+I am glad to say, I have known not one football
+captain who did not stand among the first few in his class;
+and that same experience has proved to me that, almost
+without exception, students who go in for athletics are
+the best scholars. Healthful exercise and sensible living
+go hand in hand with scholarly attainment. I don't mean
+to say that every successful student has been an athlete,
+but I do say that almost every athlete has been a successful
+student. And now that we understand each other in
+this matter, none of you need feel any surprise if, should
+you get into difficulties with the faculty over your studies,
+I refuse, as I shall, to intercede in your behalf. I want
+men to deal with who are honest, hard-working athletes,
+and honest, hard-working students. My own experience
+and that of other coachers with whom I have talked,
+proves that the brilliant football player or crew man who
+sacrifices class standing for his athletic work may do for
+a while, but in the end is a losing investment.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And on top of that warning Paul had received one
+afternoon a printed postal card, filled in here and there
+with the pen, which was as follows:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Erskine College, <i>November 4, 1901</i>.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mr. Paul Gale.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Dear Sir: You are requested to call on the Dean,
+Tuesday, November 5th, during the regular office hours.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yours respectfully,</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ephraim Levett, <i>Dean</i>.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Paul obeyed the mandate with sinking heart. When
+he left the office it was with a sensation of intense relief
+and with a resolve to apply himself so well to his studies
+as to keep himself and the Dean thereafter on the merest
+bowing acquaintance. And he was, thus far, living up to
+his resolution; but as less than a week had gone by, perhaps
+his self-gratulation was a trifle early. It may be
+that Cowan also was forced to confer with the Dean at
+about that time, for he too showed an unusual application
+to text-books, and as a result he and Paul saw each other
+less frequently.</p>
+
+<p>On November 6th, one week after Neil's accident and
+just two weeks prior to the Robinson game, Erskine
+played Arrowden, and defeated her 11-0. Neil, however,
+did not witness that contest, for, at the invitation
+of and in company with Devoe, he journeyed to Collegetown
+and watched Robinson play Artmouth. Devoe had
+rather a bad knee, and was nursing it against the game
+with Yale at New Haven the following Saturday. Two
+of the coaches were also of the party, and all were eager to
+get an inkling of the plays that Robinson was going to
+spring on Erskine. But Robinson was reticent. Perhaps
+her coaches discovered the presence of the Erskine emissaries.
+However that may have been, her team used ordinary
+formations instead of tackle-back, and displayed
+none of the tricks which rumor credited her with having
+up her sleeve. But the Erskine party saw enough, nevertheless,
+to persuade them one and all that the Purple
+need only expect defeat, unless some way of breaking up
+the tackle-back play was speedily discovered. Robinson's
+line was heavy, and composed almost altogether of last
+year material. Artmouth found it well-nigh impregnable,
+and Artmouth's backs were reckoned good men.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If we had three more men in our line as heavy and
+steady as Browning, Cowan, and Carey,&quot; said Devoe,
+&quot;we might hope to get our backs through; but, as it is,
+they'll get the jump on us, I fear, and tear up our offense
+before it gets agoing.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The only course,&quot; answered one of the coaches, &quot;is
+to get to work and put starch into the line as well as we
+can, and to perfect the backs at kicking and running.
+Luckily that close-formation has the merit of concealing
+the point of attack until it's under way, and it's just possible
+that we'll manage to fool them.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And so Jones and Mills went to work with renewed
+vigor the next day. But the second team, playing tackle-back
+after the style of Robinson's warriors, was too much
+for any defense that the varsity could put up, and got
+its distance time after time. The coaches evolved and
+tried several plays designed to stop it, but none proved
+really successful.</p>
+
+<p>Neil returned to practise that afternoon, his right
+shoulder protected by a wonderful leather contrivance
+which was the cause of much good-natured fun. He
+didn't get near the line-up, however, but was allowed to
+take part in signal practise, and was then set to kicking
+goals from placement. If the reader will button his right
+arm inside his coat and try to kick a ball with accuracy
+he will gain some slight idea of the difficulty which embarrassed
+Neil. When work was over he felt as though he
+had been trying, he declared, to kick left-handed. But he
+met with enough success to demonstrate that, given opportunity
+for practise, one may eventually learn to kick goals
+minus anything except feet.</p>
+
+<p>That happened to be one of Paul's &quot;off days,&quot; and
+the way he played exasperated the coaches and alarmed
+him. He could not hide from himself the evident fact
+that Gillam was outplaying him five days a week. With
+the return of Neil, Paul expected to be ousted from the
+position of left half, and the question that worried him
+was whether he would in turn displace Gillam or be sent
+back to the second eleven. He was safe, however, for
+several days more, for Simson still laughed at Neil's demand
+to be put into the line-up, and he was determined
+that before the Yale game he would prove himself superior
+to Gillam.</p>
+
+<p>The following morning, Friday, Mills was seated at
+the desk in his room making out a list of players who
+were to participate in the Robinson game. According
+to the agreement between the rival colleges such lists
+were required to be exchanged not later than two weeks
+prior to the contest. The players had been decided upon
+the evening before by all the coaches in assembly, and
+his task this morning was merely to recopy the list before
+him. He had almost completed the work when he heard
+strange sounds outside his door. Then followed a knock,
+and, in obedience to his request, Sydney Burr pushed
+open the door and swung himself in on his crutches.</p>
+
+<p>The boy's face was alight with eagerness, and his eyes
+sparkled with excitement; there was even a dash of color
+in his usually pale cheeks. Mills jumped up and wheeled
+forward an easy-chair. But Sydney paid no heed to it.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mr. Mills,&quot; he cried exultantly, &quot;I think I've got
+it!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Got what?&quot; asked the coach.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The play we want,&quot; answered Sydney, &quot;the play
+that'll stop Robinson!&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2>
+
+<h3>AND TELLS OF A DREAM</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>Mills's face lighted up, and he stretched forth an
+eager hand.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good for you, Burr! Let's see it. Hold on,
+though; sit down here first and give me those sticks.
+There we are. Now fire ahead.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If you don't mind, I'd like to tell you all about it
+first, before I show you the diagram,&quot; said Sydney, his
+eyes dancing.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;All right; let's hear it,&quot; replied the head coach
+smiling.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well,&quot; began Sydney, &quot;it's been a puzzler. After
+I'd seen the second playing tackle-back I about gave up
+hopes of ever finding a--an antidote.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Antidote's' good,&quot; commented Mills laughingly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I tried all sorts of notions,&quot; continued Sydney, &quot;and
+spoiled whole reams of paper drawing diagrams. But it
+was all nonsense. I had the right idea, though, all the
+time; I realized that if that tandem was going to be
+stopped it would have to be stopped before it hit our line.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mills nodded.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I had the idea, as I say, but I couldn't apply it.
+And that's the way things stood last night when I went
+to bed. I had sat up until after eleven and had used up
+all the paper I had, and so when I got into bed I saw
+diagrams all over the place and had an awful time to get
+to sleep. But at last I did. And then I dreamed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And in the dream I was playing football. That's
+the first time I ever played it, and I guess it'll be the last.
+I was all done up in sweaters and things until I couldn't
+do much more than move my arms and head. It seemed
+that we were in 9 Grace Hall, only there was grass
+instead of floor, and it was all marked out like a gridiron.
+And everybody was there, I guess; the President and the
+Dean, and you and Mr. Jones, and Mr. Preston and--and
+my mother. It was awfully funny about my mother.
+She kept sewing more sweaters on to me all the time,
+because, as she said, the more I had on the less likely I
+was to get hurt. And Devoe was there, and he was saying
+that it wasn't fair; that the football rules distinctly
+said that players should wear only one sweater. But
+nobody paid any attention to him. And after a bit, when
+I was so covered with sweaters that I was round, like a
+big ball, the Dean whistled and we got into line--that
+is,&quot; said Sydney doubtfully, &quot;it was sort of like a line.
+There was the President and Neil Fletcher and I on one
+side, and all the others, at least thirty of them, on the
+other. It didn't seem quite fair, but I didn't like to
+object for fear they'd say I was afraid.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, you <i>did</i> have the nightmare,&quot; said Mills.
+&quot;Then what?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The other side got into a bunch, and I knew they
+were playing tackle-back, although of course they weren't
+really; they just all stood together. And I didn't see any
+ball, either. Then some one yelled 'Smash 'em up!' and
+they started for us. At that Neil--at least I think it was
+Neil--and Prexy--I mean the President--took hold of
+me, lifted me up like a bag of potatoes, and hurled me
+right at the other crowd. I went flying through the air,
+turning round and round and round, till I thought I'd
+never stop. Then there was an awful bump, I yelled
+'Down!' at the top of my lungs--and woke up. I was
+on the floor.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mills laughed, and Sydney took breath.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;At first I didn't know what had happened. Then I
+remembered the dream, and all on a sudden, like a flash
+of lightning, it occurred to me that <i>that</i> was the way to
+stop tackle-back!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That? What?&quot; asked Mills, looking puzzled.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, the bag of potatoes act,&quot; laughed Sydney.
+&quot;I jumped up, lighted the gas, got pencil and paper
+and went back to bed and worked it out. And here
+it is.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He drew a carefully folded slip of paper from his
+pocket and handed it across to Mills. The diagram, just
+as the head coach received it, is reproduced here.</p>
+
+<br><p class="ctr"><img src="images/illus-171.png" width="80%" alt=""></p><br>
+
+<p>Mills studied it for a minute in silence; once he
+grunted; once he looked wonderingly up at Sydney. In
+the end he laid it beside him on the desk.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think you've got it, Burr,&quot; he said quietly, &quot;I
+think you've got it, my boy. If this works out the way it
+should, your nightmare will be the luckiest thing that's
+happened at Erskine for several years. Draw your chair
+up here--I beg your pardon; I forgot. I'll do the moving
+myself.&quot; He placed his own chair beside Sydney's
+and handed the diagram to him. &quot;Now just go over this,
+will you; tell me just what your idea is.&quot;</p>
+
+<br>
+<a name="illus-152.jpg"></a>
+<p class="ctr"><a href="images/illus-152.jpg">
+<img src="images/illus-152.jpg" width="50%" alt=""></a><br>
+<b>Mills studied the diagram in silence.</b></p>
+<br>
+
+<p>Sydney, still excited over the night's happenings, drew
+a ready pencil from his pocket, and began rather breathlessly:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I've placed the Robinson players in the positions
+that our second team occupies for the tackle-tandem.
+Full-back, left tackle, and right half, one behind the
+other, back of their guard-tackle hole. Now, as the ball
+goes into play their tandem starts. Quarter passes the
+ball to tackle, or maybe right half, and they plunge
+through our line. That's what they would do if we
+couldn't stop them, isn't it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They would, indeed,&quot; answered Mills grimly.
+&quot;About ten yards through our line!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, now we place our left half in our line between
+our guard and tackle, and put our full-back
+behind him, making a tandem of our own. Quarter
+stands almost back of guard, and the other half over
+here. When the ball is put in play our tandem starts
+at a jump and hits the opposing tandem just at the
+moment their quarter passes the ball to their runner.
+In other words, we get through on to them before they
+can get under way. Our quarter and right half follow
+up, and, unless I'm away off on my calculations, that
+tackle-tandem is going to stop on its own side of the
+line.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Sydney paused and awaited Mills's opinion. The
+latter was silent a moment. Then--</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Of course,&quot; he said, &quot;you've thought of what's
+going to happen to that left half?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; answered Sydney, &quot;I have. He's going to get
+most horribly banged up. But he's going to stop the
+play.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, I think he is--if he lives,&quot; said Mills with a
+grim smile. &quot;The only objection that occurs to me this
+moment is this: Have we the right to place any player
+in a position like this where the punishment is certain to
+be terrific, if not absolutely dangerous?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I've thought of that, too,&quot; answered Sydney readily.
+&quot;And I don't believe we--er--you have.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, then I think our play's dished at the start.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, not a bit, sir. Call the players up, explain
+the thing to them, and tell them you want a man for that
+position.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah, ask for volunteers, eh?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, sir. And you'll have just as many, I'll bet, as
+there are men!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mills smiled.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, it's a desperate remedy, but I believe it's the
+only one, and we'll see what can be done. By the way,
+I observe that you've taken left half for the victim?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, sir; that's Neil Fletcher. He's the fellow for
+it, I think.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But I thought he was a friend of yours,&quot; laughed
+Mills.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;So he is; that's why I want him to get it; he won't
+ask anything better. And he's got the weight and the
+speed. The fellow that undertakes it has got to be mighty
+quick, and he's got to have weight and plenty of grit.
+And that's Neil.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, I think so too. But I don't want him to get
+used up and not be able to kick, for we'll need a field-goal
+before the game is over, if I'm not greatly mistaken.
+However, we can find a man for that place, I've no doubt.
+For that matter, we must find two at least, for one will
+never last the game through.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I suppose not. I--I wish I had a chance at it,&quot; said
+Sydney longingly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I wish you had,&quot; said Mills. &quot;I think you'd stand
+all the punishment Robinson would give you. But don't
+feel badly that you can't play; as long as you can teach
+the rest of us the game you've got honor enough.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Sydney flushed with pleasure, and Mills took up the
+diagram again.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Guard and tackle will have their work cut out for
+them,&quot; he said. &quot;And I'm not sure that left end can't
+be brought into it, too. There's one good feature about
+Robinson's formation, and that is we can imagine where
+it's coming as long as it's a tandem. If we stop them
+they'll have to try the ends, and I don't think they'll make
+much there. Well, we'll give this a try to-morrow, and
+see how it works. By the way, Burr,&quot; he went on, &quot;you
+can get about pretty well on your crutches, can't you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; Sydney answered.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good. Then what's to prevent you from coming out
+to the field in the afternoons and giving us a hand with
+this? Do you think you could afford the time?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Sydney's eyes dropped; he didn't want Mills to see
+how near the tears were to his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I can afford the time all right,&quot; he answered in a
+voice that, despite his efforts, was not quite steady, &quot;if
+you really think I can be of any use.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps Mills guessed the other's pleasure, for he
+smiled gently as he answered:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't think; I'm certain. You know this play
+better than I do; it's yours; you know how you want it
+to go. You come out and look after the play; we'll
+attend to the players. And then, if we find a weak place
+in it, we can all get together and remedy it. But you
+oughtn't to try and wheel yourself out there and back
+every day. You tell me what time you can be ready
+each afternoon and I'll see that there's a buggy waiting
+for you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, no, really!&quot; Sydney protested. &quot;I'd rather
+not! I can get to the field and back easily, without getting
+at all tired; in fact, I need the exercise.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, if you're certain of that,&quot; answered the coach.
+&quot;But any time you change your mind, or the weather's
+bad, let me know. If you can, I'd like you to come
+around here again this evening. I'll have Devoe and the
+coaches here, and we'll talk this--this 'antidote' over
+again. Well, good-by.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Sydney swung himself to the door, followed by Mills,
+and got into his tricycle.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;About eight this evening, if you can make it, Burr,&quot;
+said Mills. &quot;Good-by.&quot; He stood at the door and
+watched the other as he trundled slowly down the street.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Poor chap!&quot; he muttered. And then: &quot;Still, I'm
+not so sure that he's an object of pity. If he hasn't any
+legs worth mentioning, the Almighty made it up to him
+by giving him a whole lot of brains. If he can't get about
+like the rest of us he's a great deal more contented, I
+believe, and if he can't play football he can show others
+how to. And,&quot; he added, as he returned to his desk, &quot;unless
+I'm mistaken, he's done it to-day. Now to mail this
+list and then for the 'antidote'!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>That night in Mills's room the assembled coaches and
+captain talked over Sydney's play, discussed it from start
+to finish, objected, explained, argued, tore it to pieces
+and put it together again, and in the end indorsed it.
+And Sydney, silent save when called on for an explanation
+of some feature of his discovery, sat with his crutches
+beside his chair and listened to many complimentary remarks;
+and at ten o'clock went back to Walton and bed,
+only to lie awake until long after the town-clock had
+struck midnight, excited and happy.</p>
+
+<p>Had you been at Erskine at any time during the
+following two weeks and had managed to get behind the
+fence, you would have witnessed a very busy scene. Day
+after day the varsity and the second fought like the bitterest
+enemies; day after day the little army of coaches
+shouted and fumed, pleaded and scolded; and day after
+day a youth on crutches followed the struggling, panting
+lines, instructing and criticizing, and happier than he had
+been at any time in his memory.</p>
+
+<p>For the &quot;antidote,&quot; as they had come to call it, had
+been tried and had vindicated its inventor's faith in it.
+Every afternoon the second team hammered the varsity
+line with the tackle-tandem, and almost every time the
+varsity stopped it and piled it up in confusion. The call
+for volunteers for the thankless position at the front of
+the little tandem of two had resulted just as Sydney
+had predicted. Every candidate for varsity honors had
+begged for it, and some half dozen or more had been
+tried. But in the end the choice had narrowed down
+to Neil, Paul, Gillam, and Mason, and these it was that
+day after day bore the brunt of the attack, emerging
+from each pile-up beaten, breathless, scarred, but happy
+and triumphant. Two weeks is short time in which to
+teach a new play, but Mills and the others went bravely
+and confidently to work, and it seemed that success was
+to justify the attempt; for three days before the Robinson
+game the varsity had at last attained perfection in
+the new play, and the coaches dared at last to hope for
+victory.</p>
+
+<p>But meanwhile other things, pleasant and unpleasant,
+had happened, and we must return to the day which had
+witnessed the inception of Sydney Burr's &quot;antidote.&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h2>
+
+<h3>ROBINSON SENDS A PROTEST</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>When Sydney left Mills that morning he trundled
+himself along Elm Street to Neil's lodgings in the hope
+of finding that youth and telling him of his good fortune.
+But the windows of the first floor front study
+were wide open, the curtains were hanging out over the
+sills, and from within came the sound of the broom and
+clouds of dust. Sydney turned his tricycle about in disappointment
+and retraced his path, through Elm Lane, by
+the court-house with its tall white pillars and green shutters,
+across Washington Street, the wheels of his vehicle
+rustling through the drifts of dead leaves that lined the
+sidewalks, and so back to Walton. He had a recitation
+at half-past ten, but there was still twenty minutes of
+leisure according to the dingy-faced clock on the tower
+of College Hall. So he left the tricycle by the steps,
+and putting his crutches under his arms, swung himself
+into the building and down the corridor to his
+study. The door was ajar and he thrust it open with
+his foot.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Please be careful of the paint,&quot; expostulated a
+voice, and Sydney paused in surprise.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well,&quot; he said; &quot;I've just been over to your room
+looking for you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Have you? Sorry I wasn't--Say, Syd, listen to
+this.&quot; Neil dragged a pillow into a more comfortable
+place and sat up. He had been stretched at full length
+on the big window-seat. &quot;Here it is in a nutshell,&quot; he
+continued, waving the paper he was reading.</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+&quot;'First a signal, then a thud,<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;And your face is in the mud.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Some one jumps upon your back,<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;And your ribs begin to crack.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Hear a whistle. &quot;Down!&quot; That's all.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;'Tis the way to play football.'&quot;<br>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>&quot;Pretty good, eh? Hello, what's up? Your face
+looks as bright as though you'd polished it. How dare
+you allow your countenance to express joy when in another
+quarter of an hour I shall be struggling over my
+head in the history of Rome during the second Punic
+War? But there, go ahead; unbosom yourself. I can
+see you're bubbling over with delightful news. Have
+they decided to abolish the Latin language? Or has
+the faculty been kidnaped? Have they changed their
+minds and decided to take me with 'em to New
+Haven to-morrow? Come, little Bright Eyes, out
+with it!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Sydney told his good news, not without numerous
+eager interruptions from Neil, and when he had ended
+the latter executed what he called a &quot;Punic war-dance.&quot;
+It was rather a striking performance, quite stately and
+impressive, for when one's left shoulder is made immovable
+by much bandaging it is difficult, as Neil breathlessly
+explained, to display <i>abandon</i>--the latter spoken
+through the nose to give it the correct French pronunciation.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And, if you're not good to me,&quot; laughed Sydney,
+&quot;I'll get back at you in practise. And I'm to be treated
+with respect, also, Neil; in fact, I believe you had better
+remove your cap when you see me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;All right, old man; cap--sweater--anything! You
+shall be treated with the utmost deference. But seriously,
+Syd, I'm awfully glad. Glad all around; glad
+you've made a hit with the play, and glad you've found
+something to beat Robinson with. Now tell me again
+about it; where do I come in on it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And so Sydney drew a chair up to the table and
+drew more diagrams of the new play, and Neil looked
+on with great interest until the bell struck the half-hour,
+and they hurried away to recitations.</p>
+
+<p>The next day the varsity and substitutes went to New
+Haven. Neil wasn't taken along, and so when the result
+of the game reached the college--Yale 40, Erskine 0--he
+was enabled to tell Sydney that it was insanity for
+Mills and Devoe to expect to do anything without his
+(Neil's) services.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If they will leave me behind, Syd, what can they
+hope for save rout and disaster? Of course, I realize
+that I could not have played, but my presence on the
+side-line would have inspired them and have been very,
+very helpful. I'm sure the score would have been quite
+different, Syd.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; laughed the other; &quot;say fifty to nothing.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Your levity and disrespect pains me,&quot; mourned
+Neil.</p>
+
+<p>But despite the overwhelming nature of the defeat,
+Mills and Devoe and the associate coaches found much
+to encourage them. No attempt had been made to try
+the new defensive play, but Erskine had managed to
+make her distance several times. The line had proved
+steady and had borne the severe battering of the Yale
+backs without serious injury. The Purple's back-field
+had played well; Paul had been in his best form, Gillam
+had gained ground quite often through Yale's wings, and
+Mason, at full-back, had fought nobly. The ends had
+proved themselves quick and speedy in getting down
+under punts, and several of the Blue's tries around end
+had been nipped ingloriously in the bud. But, when all
+was said, the principal honors of the contest had fallen
+to Ted Foster, Erskine's plucky quarter, whose handling
+of the team had been wonderful, and whose catching and
+running back of punts had more than once turned the
+tide of battle. On the whole, Erskine had put up a
+good, fast, well-balanced game; had displayed plenty of
+grit, had shown herself well advanced in team-play, and
+had emerged practically unscathed from a hard-fought
+contest.</p>
+
+<p>On Monday Neil went into the line-up for a few
+minutes, displacing Paul at left-half, but did not form
+one of the heroic tandem. His shoulder bothered him a
+good deal for the first minute or two, but after he had
+warmed up to the work he forgot about it and banged
+it around so that Simson was obliged to remonstrate and
+threaten to take him out. On the second's twenty yards
+Neil was given a chance at a goal from placement, and,
+in spite of his right shoulder, and to the delight of the
+coaches, sent the leather over the bar. When he turned
+and trotted back up the field he almost ran over Sydney,
+who was hobbling blithely about the gridiron on his
+crutches.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Whoa!&quot; cried Neil. &quot;Back up! Hello, Board of
+Strategy; how do you find yourself?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That was fine, Neil,&quot; said Sydney.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That goal.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Glad you liked it. I was beastly nervous,&quot; he
+laughed. &quot;Had no idea I could do it. It's so different
+trying goals in a game; when you're just off practising it
+doesn't seem to bother you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, you'll do. Gale is growling like a bear because
+they took him out.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Is he?&quot; asked Neil. &quot;I'm sorry. Do you know
+whether he stands a good show for the game? Have you
+heard Mills or Devoe say anything about it?&quot; Sydney
+shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm afraid Gillam's got us both boxed,&quot; continued
+Neil. &quot;As for me, I suppose they'll let me in because
+I can sometimes kick a goal, but I'm worried about Paul.
+If he'd only--Farewell, they are lining up again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't believe Gale will get into the Robinson
+game,&quot; thought Sydney as he took himself toward the
+side-line. &quot;He seems a good player, but--but you never
+can tell what he's going to do; half the time he just sort
+of slops around and looks as though he was doing a favor
+by playing. I can't see why Neil likes him so well; I
+suppose it's because he's so different. Maybe he's a
+better sort when you know him real well.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>After practise was ended and the riotous half-hour in
+the locker-house was over, Neil found himself walking
+back to the campus with Sydney and Paul. Paul entertained
+a half-contemptuous liking for Sydney. To Neil
+he called him &quot;the crip,&quot; but when in Sydney's presence
+was careful never to say anything to wound the boy's
+feelings--an act of consideration rather remarkable for
+Paul, who, while really kind at heart, was oftentimes
+careless about the sensibilities of others. This afternoon
+Paul was evidently downcast, too downcast to be even
+cross.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, I guess it's all up with me,&quot; he said as they
+passed through the gate and started down Williams Street
+toward college. &quot;I'm glad you're back, chum, but I can
+see my finish.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nonsense,&quot; said Neil, &quot;you'll be back to-morrow.
+Gillam is putting up a star game, and that's a fact; but
+your weight will help you, and if you buckle down for
+the next few days you'll make it all right.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But Paul refused to be comforted and remained silent
+and gloomy all the way home. Knowing how Paul had
+set his heart upon making the varsity for the Robinson
+game, Neil began to be rather worried himself. He felt,
+unnecessarily of course, in a measure responsible for the
+crowning of his friend's ambition. When he had prevailed
+on Paul to relinquish the idea of going to Robinson,
+he had derided the possibility of Paul failing to
+make the Erskine team; and now that possibility was
+rapidly assuming the appearance of a probability. Certainly
+the fault was Paul's, and not his; but the thought
+contained small comfort.</p>
+
+<p>Next day's practise, in preparation for Erskine's last
+game before the Robinson contest, proved Paul's fears
+far from groundless. Gillam, Neil, and Mason started
+work when the line-up was formed, and Paul looked on
+heart-brokenly from the bench. It was not until Neil
+had failed twice and succeeded once at field-goals, and
+Gillam had been well hammered by the second's tandem
+plays, that Paul secured a chance. Then Neil was taken
+out and his friend put in.</p>
+
+<p>Neil wrapped a frayed gray blanket about his shoulders
+and reflected ruefully upon events. He knew that
+he had played poorly; that he had twice tied up the
+play by allowing his thoughts to wander; that his end-running
+had been slow, almost listless, and that his performance
+at goal-kicking had been miserable. He had
+missed two tries from placement, one on the twenty yards
+and another on the twenty-seven, and had only succeeded
+at a drop-kick by the barest of margins. He couldn't
+even lay the blame on his injured shoulder, for that was
+no longer a factor in his playing; the bandages were off
+and only a leather pad remained to remind him of the
+incident. No, he had simply worried his stupid head
+over Paul's troubles, he told himself, and had thereby
+disappointed the coaches, the captain, and himself. Simson
+found him presently and sent him trotting about the
+field, an exercise that worked some of his gloom off and
+left him in a fairly cheerful frame of mind when he ran
+up the locker-house steps.</p>
+
+<p>But at dinner he found that his appetite had almost
+deserted him. Simson observed him gravely, and after
+the meal was over questioned closely. Neil answered
+rather irritably, and the trainer's uneasiness increased;
+but he only said:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Go to bed early to-night and lay off to-morrow.
+You'll be better by Monday. And you might take a
+walk to-morrow afternoon; go off into the country somewhere;
+see if you can't find some one to go with you.
+How's the shoulder? No trouble there, is there?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, there's no trouble anywhere; I just wasn't
+hungry.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, you do what I've told you and you'll get your
+appetite back, my boy.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil turned away frowning and took himself to his
+lodging, feeling angry with Simson because he was going
+to keep him off the field, and angry with himself because--oh,
+just because he was.</p>
+
+<p>But Neil was not the only person concerned with
+Erskine athletics who was out of sorts that night. A
+general air of gloom had pervaded the dinner-table.
+Mills had been even silenter than usual; the three other
+coaches present had been plainly worried, and Simson,
+in spite of his attempts to keep the conversation cheerful,
+had showed that he too was bothered about something.
+A bomb-shell had landed in the Erskine camp
+and had exploded in Mills's quarters.</p>
+
+<p>On the front steps Neil met Cowan. The two always
+nodded to each other, but to-night Neil's curt salutation
+went unheeded. Cowan, with troubled face, hurried by
+him and went up the street toward Mills's rooms.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Every one's grouchy to-night,&quot; muttered Neil.
+&quot;Even Cowan looks as though he was going to be shot.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile the athletic authorities of Erskine and
+the coaches were met in extraordinary session. They
+were considering a letter which had arrived that afternoon
+from Collegetown. In the letter Robinson announced
+her protest of Thomas L. Cowan, right-guard on
+the Erskine football team, on the score of professionalism.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It just means,&quot; wailed Foster, who had brought the
+tidings to Neil and Paul, &quot;that it's all over with us. I
+don't know what Cowan has to say, but I'll bet a--I'll
+bet my new typewriter!--that Robinson's right. And
+with Cowan gone from right-guard, where are we? We
+haven't the ghost of a show. The only fellow they can
+play in his place is Witter, and he's a pygmy. Not that
+Witter doesn't know the position, for he does; but he's
+too light. Was there ever such luck? What good is
+Burr's patent, double-action, self-inking, cylindrical,
+switch-back defense if we haven't got a line that will hold
+together long enough for us to get off our toes? It--it's
+rotten luck, that's what it is.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And the varsity quarter-back groaned dolorously.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But what does Cowan say?&quot; asked Neil.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't ask me,&quot; said Foster. &quot;I don't know what
+he says, and I don't believe it will matter. He's got professional
+written all over his face.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But he played last year,&quot; said Paul. &quot;Why didn't
+they protest him then?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'll pass again,&quot; answered Foster. &quot;Maybe they
+hadn't discovered it--whatever it is--then; maybe--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Listen!&quot; said Neil.</p>
+
+<p>Some one stamped up the steps and entered the front
+door. Foster looked questioningly at Neil.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Cowan?&quot; he whispered. Neil nodded.</p>
+
+<p>Foster sprang to the study door and threw it open.
+The light from the room fell on the white and angry
+countenance of the right-guard.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Cowan,&quot; said Foster, &quot;for heaven's sake, man, tell
+us about it! Is it all right?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But Tom Cowan only glared as he passed on up the
+stairs.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII</h2>
+
+<h3>A PLAN AND A CONFESSION</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>Robinson's protest set forth succinctly that Cowan had,
+three years previous, played left tackle on the football
+team of a certain academy--whose right to the title of
+academy was often questioned--and had received money
+for his services. Dates and other particulars were liberally
+supplied, and the name and address of the captain
+of the team were given. Altogether, the letter was discouragingly
+convincing, and neither the coaches, the captain,
+nor the athletic officers really doubted the truth of
+the charge.</p>
+
+<p>Professor Nast, the chairman of the Athletic Committee,
+blinked gravely through his glasses and looked
+about the room.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You've sent for Mr. Cowan?&quot; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; Mills answered; &quot;he ought to be here in a
+minute. How in the world was he allowed to get on to
+the team?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, his record was gone over, as we believed, very
+thoroughly year before last,&quot; said Professor Nast; &quot;and
+we found nothing against him. I think--ah--it seems
+probable that he unintentionally misled us. Perhaps he
+can--ah--explain.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>When, however, Cowan faced the group of grave-faced
+men it was soon evident that explanations were
+far from his thoughts. He had heard enough before the
+summons reached him to enable him to surmise what
+awaited him, and when Professor Nast explained their
+purpose in calling him before them, Cowan only displayed
+what purported to be honest indignation. He
+stormed violently against the Robinson authorities
+and defied them to prove their charge. Mills listened
+a while impatiently and then interrupted him
+abruptly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you deny the charge, Cowan, or don't you?&quot;
+he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I refuse to reply to it,&quot; answered Cowan angrily.
+&quot;Let them think what they want to; I'm not responsible
+to them. It's all revenge, nothing else. They tried to
+get me to go to them last September; offered me free
+coaching, and guaranteed me a position on the team. I
+refused. And here's the result.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Professor Nast brightened and a few of those present
+looked relieved. But Mills refused to be touched by
+Cowan's righteousness, and asked brusquely:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Never mind what their motive is, Cowan. What
+we want to know is this: Did you or did you not accept
+money for playing left tackle on that team? Let us have
+an answer to that, please.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It's absurd,&quot; said Cowan hotly. &quot;Why, I only
+played three games--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes or no, please,&quot; said Mills.</p>
+
+<p>For an instant Cowan's gaze faltered. He glanced
+swiftly about the room and read only doubt or antagonism
+in the faces there. He shrugged his broad shoulders
+and replied sneeringly:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What's the good? You're all down on me now;
+you wouldn't believe me if I told you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We're not all down on you,&quot; answered Mills. Professor
+Nast interrupted.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;One moment, Mr. Mills. I don't think Mr. Cowan
+understands the--ah--the position we are in. Unless
+you can show to our satisfaction that the charge is untrue,
+Mr. Cowan, we shall be obliged, under the terms
+of our agreement with Robinson, to consider you ineligible.
+In that case, you could not, of course, play against
+Robinson; in fact, you would not be admitted to any
+branch of university athletics. Now, don't you think
+that the best course for you to follow is to make a
+straightforward explanation of your connection with the
+academy in question? We are not here to judge the--ah--ethics
+of your course; only to decide as to whether
+or no you are eligible to represent the college in
+athletics.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Cowan arose from his seat and with trembling fingers
+buttoned his overcoat. His brow was black, but when
+he spoke, facing the head coach and heedless of the rest,
+he appeared quite cool.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ever since practise began,&quot; he said, &quot;you have been
+down on me and have done everything you could to get
+rid of me. No matter what I did, it wasn't right.
+Whether I'm eligible or ineligible, I'm done with you
+now. You may fill my place--if you can; I'm out of it.
+You'll probably be beaten; but that's your affair. If
+you are, I sha'n't weep over it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He walked to the door and opened it.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It's understood, I guess, that I've resigned from
+the team?&quot; he asked, facing Mills once more.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Quite,&quot; said the latter dryly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;All right. And now I don't mind telling you that
+I did get paid for playing with that team. I played
+three games and took money every time. It isn't a
+crime and I'm not ashamed of it, although to hear you
+talk you'd think I'd committed murder. Good-night,
+gentlemen.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He passed out. Professor Nast blinked nervously.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Dear me,&quot; he murmured, &quot;dear me, how unpleasant!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mills smiled grimly, and, rising, stretched his limbs.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think what we have left to do won't take very
+long. I hardly think that it is necessary for me to reply
+to the accusations brought by the gentleman who has
+just left us.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, let's hear no more of it,&quot; said Preston. &quot;I
+propose that we reply to Robinson to-night and have an
+end of the business. To-morrow we'll have plenty to
+think of without this,&quot; he added grimly.</p>
+
+<p>The reply was written and forwarded the next day
+to Robinson, and the following announcement was given
+out at Erskine:</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+The Athletic Committee has decided that Cowan
+is not eligible to represent the college in the football
+game with Robinson, and he has been withdrawn. A
+protest was received from the Robinson athletic authorities
+yesterday afternoon, and an investigation was at
+once made with the result stated. The loss of Cowan
+will greatly weaken the team, it is feared, but that fact
+has not been allowed to influence the committee. The
+decision is heartily concurred in by the coaches, the captain,
+and all officials, and, being in line with Erskine's
+policy of purity in athletics, should have the instant
+indorsement of the student body.<br>
+<br>
+H.W. NAST, <i>Chairman</i>.<br>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>The announcement, as was natural, brought consternation,
+and for several days the football situation
+was steeped in gloom. Witter and Hurst were seized
+upon by the coaches and drilled in the tactics of right-guard.
+As Foster had said, Witter, while he was a good
+player, was light for the position. Hurst, against whom
+no objection could be brought on the ground of weight,
+lacked experience. In the end Witter proved first choice,
+and Hurst was comforted with the knowledge that he
+was practically certain to get into the game before the
+whistle sounded for the last time.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile Artmouth came and saw and conquered
+to the tune of 6-0, profiting by the news of Cowan's
+withdrawal and piling their backs through Witter, Hurst,
+and Brown, all of whom took turns at right-guard. The
+game was not encouraging from the Erskine point of
+view, and the gloom deepened. Foster declared that it
+was so thick during the last half of the contest that he
+couldn't see the backs. Neil saw the game from the
+bench, and Paul, once more at left-half, played an excellent
+game; but, try as he might, could not outdo Gillam.
+When it was over Neil declared the honors even, but
+Paul took a less optimistic view and would not be
+comforted.</p>
+
+<p>All the evening, save for a short period when he
+went upstairs to sympathize with Cowan, he bewailed
+his fate into Neil's ears. The latter tried his best to comfort
+him, and predicted that on Monday Paul would
+find himself in Gillam's place. But he scarcely believed
+it himself, and so his prophecies were not convincing.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What's the good of being decent?&quot; asked Paul dolefully.
+&quot;I wish I'd gone to Robinson.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, you don't,&quot; said Neil. &quot;You'd rather sit on
+the side-line at Erskine than play with a lot of hired
+sluggers.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Much you know about it,&quot; Paul growled. &quot;If I
+don't get into the Robinson game I'll--I'll leave college.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But what good would that do?&quot; asked Neil.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'd go somewhere where I'd stand a show. I'd go
+to Robinson or one of the smaller places.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't think you'd do anything as idiotic as that,&quot;
+answered Neil. &quot;It'll be hard luck if you miss the big
+game, but you've got three more years yet. What's
+one? You're certain to stand the best kind of a show
+next year.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't see how. Gillam doesn't graduate until
+1903.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But you can beat him out for the place next
+year. All you need is more experience. Gillam's been
+at it two years here. Besides, it would be silly to leave
+a good college just because you couldn't play on the football
+team. Don't be like Cowan and think football's
+the only thing a chap comes here for.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They've used him pretty shabbily,&quot; said Paul.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's what Cowan thinks. I don't see how they
+could do anything else.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He's awfully cut up. I'm downright sorry for him.
+He says he's going to pack up and leave.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And he's been trying to make you do the same,
+eh?&quot; asked Neil. &quot;Well, you tell him I'm very well
+satisfied with Erskine and haven't the least desire to
+change.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You?&quot; asked Paul.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Certainly. We hang together, don't we?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Paul grinned.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You're a good chap, chum,&quot; he said gratefully.
+&quot;But--&quot; relapsing again into gloom--&quot;you're not losing
+your place on the team, and you don't know how it feels.
+When a fellow's set his heart on it--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think I do know,&quot; answered Neil. &quot;I know how
+I felt when my shoulder went wrong and I thought I
+was off for good and all. I didn't like it. But cheer
+up, Paul, and give 'em fits Monday. Slam 'round, let
+yourself loose; show 'em what you can do. Down with
+Gillam!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, I dare say,&quot; muttered Paul dejectedly.</p>
+
+<p>Neil laid awake a long time that night; he was full
+of sympathy for his room-mate. With him friendship
+meant more than it does to the average boy of nineteen,
+and he was ready and eager to do anything in his power
+that would insure Paul's getting into the Robinson game.
+The trouble was that he could think of nothing, although
+he lay staring into the darkness, thinking and thinking,
+until Paul had been snoring comfortably across the room
+for more than an hour.</p>
+
+<p>The next afternoon, Sunday, Neil, obeying the trainer's
+instructions, went for a walk. Paul begged off from
+accompanying him, and Neil sought Sydney. That youth
+was delighted to go, and so, Neil alternately pushing
+the tricycle and walking beside it while Sydney propelled
+it himself, the two followed the river for several
+miles into the country. The afternoon was cold but
+bright, and being outdoors was a pleasure to any healthy
+person. Neil forgot some of his worries and remembered
+that, after all, he was still a boy; that football is not
+the chief thing in college life, and that ten years hence
+it would matter little to him whether he played for his
+university against her rival or looked on from the bench.
+And it was that thought that suggested to him a means
+of sparing Paul the bitter disappointment that he
+dreaded.</p>
+
+<p>The plan seemed both simple and feasible, and he
+wondered why he had not thought of it before. To be
+sure, it involved the sacrificing of an ambition of his
+own; but to-day, out here among the pines and beeches,
+with the clear blue sky overhead and the eager breeze
+bringing the color to his cheeks, the sacrifice seemed
+paltry and scarcely a sacrifice at all. He smiled to himself,
+glad to have found the solution of Paul's trouble,
+which was also his own; but suddenly it occurred to him
+that perhaps he had no right to do what he contemplated.
+The ethics were puzzling, and presently he
+turned to Sydney, who had been silently and contentedly
+wheeling himself along across the road, and sought
+his counsel.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Look here, Syd, you're a level-headed sort of chump.
+Give me your valuable opinion on this, will you? Now--it's
+a supposititious case, you know--here are two fellows,
+A and B, each trying for the same--er--prize.
+Now, supposing A has just about reached it and B has
+fallen behind; and supposing I--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Eh?&quot; asked Sydney.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, I meant A. Supposing A knows that B is
+just as deserving of the prize as he is, and that--that
+he'll make equally as good use of it. Do you follow,
+Syd?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Y--yes, I think so,&quot; answered the other doubtfully.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, now, the question I want your opinion on is
+this: Wouldn't it be perfectly fair for A to--well, slip
+a cog or two, you know--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Slip a cog?&quot; queried Sydney, puzzled.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes; that is,&quot; explained Neil, &quot;play off a bit, but
+not enough for any of the fellows to suspect, and so let B
+get the plum?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well,&quot; answered Sydney, after a moment's consideration,
+&quot;it sounds fair enough--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's what I think,&quot; said Neil eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But maybe A and B are not the only ones interested.
+How about the conditions of the contest? Don't
+they require that each man shall do his best? Isn't it
+intended that the prize shall go to the one who really is
+the best?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, well, in a manner, maybe,&quot; answered Neil. He
+was silent a moment. The ethics was more puzzling than
+ever. Then: &quot;Of course, it's only a supposititious case,
+you understand, Syd,&quot; he assured him earnestly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, of course,&quot; answered the other readily.
+&quot;Hadn't we better turn here?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The journey back was rather silent. Neil was struggling
+with his problem, and Sydney, too, seemed to have
+something on his mind. When the town came once more
+into view around a bend in the road Sydney interrupted
+Neil's thoughts.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Say, Neil, I've got a--a confession to make.&quot; His
+cheeks were very red and he looked extremely embarrassed.
+Neil viewed him in surprise.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A confession? You haven't murdered the Dean,
+have you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No. It--it's something rather different. I don't
+believe that it will make any difference in our--our
+friendship, but--it might.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It won't,&quot; said Neil. &quot;Now, fire ahead.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, you recollect the day you found me on
+the way from the field and pushed me back to college?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Of course. Your old ice-wagon had broken down
+and I--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's it,&quot; interrupted Sydney, with a little embarrassed
+laugh. &quot;It hadn't.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What hadn't? Hadn't what?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The machine; it hadn't broken down.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But I saw it,&quot; exclaimed Neil. &quot;What do you
+mean, Syd?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I mean that it hadn't really broken down, Neil.
+I--the truth is I had pried one of the links up with a
+screw-driver.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil stared in a puzzled way.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But--what for?&quot; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't you understand?&quot; asked Sydney, shame-faced.
+&quot;Because I wanted to know you, and I thought
+if you found me there with my machine busted you'd
+try to fix it; and I'd make your acquaintance. It--it was
+awfully dishonest, I know,&quot; muttered Sydney at the last.</p>
+
+<p>Neil stared for a moment in surprise. Then he
+clapped the other on the shoulder and laughed uproariously.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, to think of guileless little Syd being so foxy!&quot;
+he cried. &quot;I wouldn't have believed it if any one else
+had told me, Syd.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well,&quot; said Sydney, very red in the face, but joining
+in the laughter, &quot;you don't mind?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mind?&quot; echoed Neil, becoming serious again, &quot;why
+of course I don't. What is there to mind, Syd? I'm
+glad you did it, awfully glad.&quot; He laid his arm over
+the shoulders of the lad on the seat. &quot;Here, let me
+push a while. Queer you should have cared that much
+about knowing me; but--but I'm glad.&quot; Suddenly his
+laughter returned.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No wonder that old fossil in the village thought
+it was a queer sort of a break,&quot; he shouted. &quot;He knew
+what he was talking about after all when he suggested
+cold-chisels, didn't he?&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII</h2>
+
+<h3>NEIL IS TAKEN OUT</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>The Tuesday before the final contest dawned raw
+and wet. The elms in the yard <i>drip-dripped</i> from every
+leafless twig and a fine mist covered everything with
+tiny beads of moisture. The road to the field, trampled
+by many feet, was soft and slippery. Sydney, almost
+hidden beneath rain-coat and oil-skin hat, found traveling
+hard work. Ahead of him marched five hundred
+students, marshaled by classes, a little army of bobbing
+heads and flapping mackintoshes, alternately cheering and
+singing. Dana, the senior-class president, strode at the
+head of the line and issued his commands through a big
+purple megaphone.</p>
+
+<p>Erskine was marching out to the field to cheer the
+eleven and to practise the songs that were to be chanted
+defiantly at the game. Sydney had started with his class,
+but had soon been left behind, the rubber tires of the
+machine slipping badly in the mud. Presently the head
+of the procession, but dimly visible to him through the
+mist, turned in at the gate, the monster flag of royal
+purple, with its big white E, drooping wet and forlorn
+on its staff. They were cheering again now, and Sydney
+whispered an accompaniment behind the collar of his
+coat:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Erskine! Erskine! Erskine! Rah-rah-rah, rah-rah-rah,
+rah-rah-rah! Erskine! Erskine! Erskine!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly footsteps sounded behind him and the tricycle
+went forward apparently of its own volition. Sydney
+turned quickly and saw Mills's blue eyes twinkling
+down at him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Did I surprise you?&quot; laughed the coach.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, I thought my wheel had suddenly turned into
+an automobile.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hard work for you, I'm afraid. You should have
+let me send a trap for you,&quot; said Mills. &quot;Never mind
+those handles. Put your hands in your pockets and I'll
+get you there in no time. What a beast of a day,
+isn't it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Y--yes,&quot; answered Sydney, &quot;I suppose it is. But I
+rather like it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Like it? Great Scott! Why?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, the mist feels good on your face, don't you
+think so? And the trees down there along the railroad
+look so gray and soft. I don't know, but there's something
+about this sort of a day that makes me feel good.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, every one to his taste,&quot; Mills replied. &quot;By
+the way, here's something I cut out of the Robinson
+Argus; thought you'd like to see it.&quot; He drew a clipping
+from a pocketbook and gave it to Sydney, who,
+shielding it from the wet, read as follows:</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+Erskine, we hear, is crowing over a wonderful new
+play which she thinks she has invented, and with which
+she expects to get even for what happened last year.
+We have not seen the new marvel, of course, but we
+understand that it is called a &quot;close formation.&quot; It is
+safe to say that it is an old play revamped by Erskine's
+head coach, Mills. Last year Mills discovered a form of
+guards-back which was heralded to the four corners of
+the earth as the greatest play ever seen. What happened
+to it is still within memory. Consequently we
+are not greatly alarmed over the latest production of his
+fertile brain. Robinson can, we think, find a means of
+solving any puzzle that Erskine can put together.
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>&quot;They're rather hard on you,&quot; laughed Sydney as
+he returned the clipping.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I can stand it. I'm glad they haven't discovered
+that we are busy with a defense for their tackle-tandem.
+If we can keep that a secret for a few days longer I
+shall be satisfied.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I do hope it will come up to expectations,&quot; said
+Sydney doubtfully. &quot;Now that the final test is drawing
+near I'm beginning to fear that maybe we--maybe we're
+too hopeful.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I know,&quot; answered Mills. &quot;It's always that way.
+When I first began coaching I used to get into a regular
+blue funk every year just before the big game; used to
+think that everything was going wrong, and was firmly
+convinced until the whistle sounded that we were going
+to be torn to pieces and scattered to the winds. It's
+just nerves; you get used to it after a while. As for the
+new defense for tackle-tandem, it's all right. Maybe it
+won't stop Robinson altogether, but it's the best thing
+that a light team can put up against a heavy one playing
+Robinson's game; and I think that it's going to surprise
+her and worry her quite a lot. Whether it will keep
+her from scoring on the tackle play remains to be seen.
+That's a good deal to hope for. If we'd been able to
+try the play in a game with another college we would
+know more about what we can do with it. As it is, we
+only know that it will stop the second and that theoretically
+it is all right. We'll be wiser on the 23d.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Frankly, though, Burr,&quot; he continued, &quot;as a play
+I don't like it. That is, I consider it too hard on the
+men; there's too much brute force and not enough science
+and skill about it; in fact, it isn't football. But as long
+as guards-back and tackle-back formations are allowed
+it's got to be played. It was a mistake in ever allowing
+more than four men behind the line. The natural formation
+of a football team consists of seven players in the
+line, and when you begin to take one or two of those
+players back you're increasing the element of physical
+force and lessening the element of science. More than
+that, you're playing into the hands of the anti-football
+people, and giving them further grounds for their charge
+of brutality.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Football's the noblest game that's played, but it's
+got to be played right. We did away with the old mass-play
+evil and then promptly invented the guards-back
+and the tackle-back. Before long we'll see our mistake
+and do away with those too; revise the rules so that the
+rush-line players can not be drawn back. Then we'll
+have football as it was meant to be played; and we'll
+have a more skilful game and one of more interest both
+to the players and spectators.&quot; Mills paused and then
+asked:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;By the way, do you see much of Fletcher?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, quite a bit,&quot; answered Sydney. &quot;We were
+together for two or three hours yesterday afternoon.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Indeed? And did you notice whether he appeared
+in good spirits? See any signs of worry?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, not that I recall. I thought he appeared to
+be feeling very cheerful. I know we laughed a good
+deal over--over something.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's all right, then,&quot; answered the coach as they
+turned in through the gate and approached the locker-house.
+&quot;I had begun to think that perhaps he had something
+on his mind that troubled him. He seemed a bit
+listless yesterday at practise. How about his studies?
+All right there, is he?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, yes. Fletcher gets on finely. He was saying
+only a day or two ago that he was surprised to find them
+going so easily.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, don't mention our talk to him, please; he
+might start to worrying, and that's what we don't want,
+you know. Perhaps he'll be in better shape to-day.
+We'll try him in the 'antidote.'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But contrary to the hopes of the head coach, Neil
+showed no improvement. His playing was slow, and he
+seemed to go at things in a half-hearted way far removed
+from his usual dash and vim. Even the signals appeared
+to puzzle him at times, and more than once Foster turned
+upon him in surprise.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Say, what the dickens is the matter with you, Neil?&quot;
+he whispered once. Neil showed surprise.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, nothing; I'm all right.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, I'm glad you told me,&quot; grumbled the
+quarter-back, &quot;for I'd never have guessed it, my
+boy.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Before the end of the ten minutes of open practise was
+over Neil had managed to make so many blunders that
+even the fellows on the seats noticed and remarked upon
+it. Later, when the singing and cheering were over and
+the gates were closed behind the last marching freshman,
+Neil found himself in hot water. The coaches descended
+upon him in a small army, and he stood bewildered while
+they accused him of every sin in the football decalogue.
+Devoe took a hand, too, and threatened to put him off
+if he didn't wake up.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Play or get off the field,&quot; he said. &quot;And, hang it
+all, man, look intelligent, as though you liked the game!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil strove to look intelligent by banishing the expression
+of bewilderment from his face, and stood patiently
+by until the last coach had hurled the last bolt
+at his defenseless head--defenseless, that is, save for the
+head harness that was dripping rain-drops down his neck.
+Then he trotted off to the line-up with a queer, half-painful
+grin on his face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I guess it's settled for me,&quot; he said to, himself, as
+he rubbed his cold, wet hands together. &quot;Evidently I
+sha'n't have to play off to give Paul his place; I've done
+it already. I suppose I've been bothering my head about
+it until I've forgotten what I've been doing. I wish
+though--&quot; he sighed--&quot;I wish it hadn't been necessary
+to disgust Mills and Bob Devoe and all the others who
+have been so decent and have hoped so much of me. But
+it's settled now. Whether it's right or wrong, I'm going
+to play like a fool until they get tired of jumping on me
+and just yank me out in sheer disgust.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Simson's got his eagle eye on me, the old ferret!
+And he will have me on the hospital list to-morrow, I'll
+bet a dollar. He'll say I've gone 'fine' and tell me to
+get plenty of sleep and stay outdoors. And the doctor
+will give me a lot of nasty medicine. Well, it's all in
+the bargain. I'd like to have played in Saturday's game,
+though; but Paul has set his heart on it, and if he doesn't
+make the team he'll have seven fits. It means more to
+him than it does to me, and next fall will soon be here.
+I can wait.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Fletcher! Wake up, will you</i>?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Foster was glaring at him angrily. The blood rushed
+into Neil's face and he leaped to his position. Even Ted
+Foster's patience had given out, Neil told himself; and
+he, like all the rest, would have only contempt for him
+to-morrow. The ball was wet and slimy and easily fumbled.
+Neil lost it the first time it came into his hands.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Who dropped that ball?&quot; thundered Mills, striding
+into the back-field, pushing players left and right.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I did,&quot; answered Neil, striving to meet the coach's
+flashing eyes and failing miserably.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You did? Well, do it just once more, Fletcher,
+and you'll go off! And you'll find it hard work getting
+back again, too. Bear that in mind, please.&quot; He turned
+to the others. &quot;Now get together here! Put some life
+into things! Stop that plunging right here! If the
+second gets another yard you'll hear from me!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;First down; two yards to gain!&quot; called Jones, who
+was acting as referee.</p>
+
+<p>The second came at them again, tackle-back, desperately,
+fighting hard. But the varsity held, and on the
+next down held again.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's better,&quot; cried Mills.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Use your weight, Baker!&quot; shrieked one of the second's
+coaches, slapping the second's left-guard fiercely on
+the back to lend vehemence to the command.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Center, your man got you that time,&quot; cried another.
+&quot;Into him now! Throw him back! Get through!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Ten coaches were raving and shrieking at once.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Signal!&quot; cried the second's quarter, Reardon. The
+babel was hushed, save for the voice of Mills crying:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Steady! Steady! Hold them, varsity!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>44--64--73--81!</i>&quot; came Reardon's muffled voice.
+Then the second's backs plunged forward. Neil and Gillam
+met them with a crash; cries and confusion reigned;
+the lines shoved and heaved; the backs hurled themselves
+against the swaying group; a smothered voice gasped
+&quot;Down!&quot; the whistle shrilled.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Varsity's ball!&quot; said the referee. &quot;First down!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The coaches began their tirades anew. Mills spoke
+to Foster aside. Then the lines again faced each other.
+Foster glanced back toward Neil.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>14--12--34--9!</i>&quot; he sang. It was a kick from
+close formation. Neil changed places with full-back.
+He had forgotten for the moment the r&ocirc;le he had set
+himself to play, and only thought of the ball that was
+flying toward him from center. He would do his best.
+The pigskin settled into his hands and he dropped it
+quickly, kicking it fairly on the rebound. But the second
+was through, and the ball banged against an upstretched
+hand and was lost amidst a struggling group of players.
+In a moment it came to light tightly clutched by Brown
+of the second eleven.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't have to make believe,&quot; groaned Neil.
+&quot;Fate's playing squarely into my hands.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Five minutes later the leather went to him for a run
+outside of left tackle. He never knew whether he tried
+to do it or really stumbled, but he fell before the line
+was reached, and in a twinkling three of the second
+eleven were pushing his face into the muddy turf. The
+play had lost the varsity four yards. Mills glared at
+Neil, but said not a word. Neil smiled weakly as he
+went back to his place.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I needn't try any more,&quot; he thought wearily.
+&quot;He's made up his mind to put me off.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A minute later the half ended. When the next one
+began Paul Gale went in at left half-back on the varsity.
+And Neil, trotting to the locker-house, told himself that
+he was glad, awfully glad, and wished the tears wouldn't
+come into his eyes.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX</h2>
+
+<h3>ON THE EVE OF BATTLE</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>Neil was duly pronounced &quot;fine&quot; by the trainer,
+dosed by the doctor, and disregarded by the coaches.
+Mills, having finally concluded that he was too risky a
+person for the line-up on Saturday, figuratively labeled
+him &quot;declined&quot; and passed him over to Tassel, head
+coach of the second eleven. Tassel displayed no enthusiasm,
+for a good player gone &quot;fine&quot; is at best a poor
+acquisition, and of far less practical value than a poor
+player in good condition. It made little difference to
+Neil what team he belonged to, for he was prohibited
+from playing on Wednesday, and on Thursday the last
+practise took place and he was in the line-up but five
+minutes. On that day the students again marched to
+the field and practised their songs and cheers. Despite
+the loss of Cowan and the lessening thereby of Erskine's
+chance of success, enthusiasm reigned high. Perhaps
+their own cheers raised their spirit, for two days before
+the game the college was animated by a totally unwarranted
+degree of hopefulness that amounted almost to
+confidence. The coaches, however, remained carefully
+pessimistic and took pains to see that the players did
+not share the general hopefulness.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We may win,&quot; said Mills to them after the last
+practise, &quot;but don't think for a moment that it's going
+to be easy. If we do come out on top it will be because
+every one of you has played as he never dreamed he
+could play. You've got to play your own positions
+perfectly and then help to play each other's. Remember
+what I've said about team-play. Don't think that
+your work is done when you've put your man out; that's
+the time for you to turn around and help your neighbor.
+It's just that eagerness to aid the next man, that
+stand-and-fall-together spirit, that makes the ideal team. I
+don't want to see any man on Saturday standing around
+with his hands at his sides; as long as the ball's in play
+there's work for every one. Don't cry 'Down' until you
+can't run, crawl, wriggle, roll, or be pulled another inch.
+And if you're helping the runner don't stop pulling or
+shoving until there isn't another notch to be gained.
+Never mind how many tacklers there are; the ball's in
+play until the whistle sounds. And, one thing more,
+remember that you're not going to do your best because
+I tell you to, or because if you don't the coaches will
+give you a wigging, or because a lot of your fellows are
+looking on. You're going to fight your hardest, fight
+until the last whistle blows, fight long after you can't
+fight any more, because you're wearing the Purple of
+old Erskine and can't do anything else but fight!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The cheer that followed was good to hear. There
+was not a fellow there that didn't feel, at that moment,
+more than a match for any two men Robinson could set
+up against him. And many a hand clenched involuntarily,
+and many a player registered his silent vow to
+fight, as Mills had said, long after he couldn't fight any
+more, and, if it depended on him, win the game for old
+Erskine.</p>
+
+<p>On Friday afternoon the men were assembled in the
+gymnasium and were drilled in signals and put through
+a hard examination in formations. Afterward several
+of the coaches addressed them earnestly, touching each
+man on the spot that hurt, showing them where they
+failed and how to remedy their defects, but never goading
+them to despondency.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I should be afraid of a team that was perfect the
+day before the game,&quot; said Preston; &quot;afraid that when
+the real struggle came they'd disappoint me. A team
+should go into the final contest with the ability to play
+a little better than it has played at any time during the
+season; with a certain amount of power in reserve. And
+so I expect to-morrow to see almost all of the faults that
+we have talked of eliminated. I expect to see every man
+do that little better that means so much. And if he
+does he'll make Mr. Mills happy, he'll make all the other
+coaches happy, he'll make his captain and himself happy,
+and he'll make the college happy. And he'll make Robinson
+unhappy!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then the line-up that was to start the game was read.
+Neil, sitting listlessly between Paul and Foster, heard
+it with a little ache at his heart. He was glad that Paul
+was not to be disappointed, but it was hard to think
+that he was to have no part in the supreme battle for
+which he had worked conscientiously all the fall, and
+the thought of which had more than once given him
+courage to go on when further effort seemed impossible.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Stone, Tucker, Browning, Stowell, Witter, Carey,
+Devoe, Foster, Gale--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good for you, Paul,&quot; whispered Neil. Then he
+sighed as the list went on--</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Gillam, Mason.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then a long string of substitutes was read. Neil's
+name was among these, but that fact meant little enough.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Every man whose name has been read report at
+eleven to-morrow for lunch. Early to bed is the rule for
+every one to-night, and I want every one to obey it.&quot;
+Mills paused; then he went on in softer tones: &quot;Some
+of you are disappointed. Some of you have worked
+faithfully--you all have, for that matter--only to meet
+with disappointment to-day. But we can't put you all
+in the line-up; I wish we could. But to those who have
+tried so hard and so honestly for positions in to-morrow's
+game, and who have of necessity been left out, I can
+only offer the sympathy of myself and the other coaches,
+and of the other players. You have done your share,
+and it no doubt seems hard that you are to have no
+better share in the final test. But let me tell you that
+even though you do not play against Robinson, you have
+nevertheless done almost as much toward defeating her as
+though you faced her to-morrow. It's the season's work
+that counts--the long, hard preparation--and in that
+you've had your place and done your part well. And for
+that I thank you on behalf of myself, on behalf of the
+coaches who have been associated with me, and on behalf
+of the college. And now I am going to ask you fellows
+of the varsity to give three long Erskines, three-times-three,
+and three long 'scrubs' on the end!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And they were given not once, but thrice. And then
+the scrub lustily cheered the varsity, and they both
+cheered Mills and Devoe and Simson and all the coaches
+one after another. And when the last long-drawn &quot;Erskine&quot;
+had died away Mills faced them again.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There's one more cheer I want to hear, fellows, and
+I think you'll give it heartily. In to-morrow's game we
+are going to use a form of defense that will, I believe,
+enable us to at least render a good account of ourselves.
+And, as most of you know, this defense was thought out
+and developed by a fellow who, although unfortunately
+unable to play the game himself, is nevertheless one of
+the finest football men in college. If we win to-morrow
+a great big share of the credit will be due to that man;
+if we lose he still will have done as much as any two of
+us. Fellows, I ask for three cheers for Burr!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mills led that cheer himself and it was a good one.
+The pity of it was that Sydney wasn't there to hear it.</p>
+
+<p>The November twilight was already stealing down
+over the campus when Neil and Paul left the gymnasium
+and made their way back to Curtis's. Paul was
+highly elated, for until the line-up had been read he had
+been uncertain of his fate. But his joy was somewhat
+dampened by the fact that Neil had failed to make the
+team.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It doesn't seem just right for me to go into the
+game, chum, with you on the side-line,&quot; he said. &quot;I
+don't see what Mills is thinking of! Who in thunder's
+to kick for us?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I guess you'll be called on, Paul, if any field-goals
+are needed.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I suppose so, but--hang it, Neil, I wish you were
+going to play!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, so do I,&quot; answered Neil calmly; &quot;but I'm not,
+and so that settles it. After all, they couldn't do anything
+else, Paul, but let me out. I've been playing perfectly
+rotten lately.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But--but what's the matter? You don't look stale,
+chum.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I feel stale, just the same,&quot; answered Neil far from
+untruthfully.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But maybe you'll get in for a while; you're down
+with the subs,&quot; said Paul hopefully.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Maybe I will. Maybe you'll get killed and Gillam'll
+get killed and a few more'll get killed and they'll take
+me on. But don't you worry about me; I'm all right.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Paul looked at him as though rather puzzled.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;By Jove, I don't believe you care very much whether
+you play or don't,&quot; he said at last. &quot;If it had been me
+they'd let out I'd simply gone off into a dark corner
+and died.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm glad it wasn't you,&quot; answered Neil heartily.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thunder! So'm I!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The college in general had taken Neil's deflection
+philosophically after the first day or so of wonderment and
+dismay. The trust in Mills was absolute, and if Mills
+said Fletcher wasn't as good as Gale for left half-back,
+why, he wasn't; that was all there was about it. There
+was one person in college, however, who was not deceived.
+Sydney Burr, recollecting Neil's &quot;supposititious
+case,&quot; never doubted that Neil had purposely sacrificed
+himself for his room-mate. At first he was inclined to
+protest to Neil, even to go the length of making Mills
+cognizant of the real situation; but in the end he kept his
+own counsel, doubtful of his right to interfere. And,
+in some way, he grew to think that Paul was not in the
+dark; that he knew of Neil's plan and was lending his
+sanction to it; that, in fact, the whole arrangement
+was a conspiracy in which both Neil and Paul shared
+equally. In this he did Paul injustice, as he found out
+later.</p>
+
+<p>He went to Neil's room that Friday night for a few
+minutes and found Paul much wrought up over the disappearance
+of Tom Cowan. Cowan's room looked as
+though a cyclone had struck it, Paul declared, and Cowan
+himself was nowhere to be found.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'll bet he's done what he said he'd do and left,&quot;
+said Paul. But Sydney had seen him but an hour
+or so before at commons, and Paul set out to hunt
+him up.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I know you chaps don't like him,&quot; he said; &quot;but
+he's been mighty decent to me, and I don't want to seem
+to be going back on him just now when he's so down
+on his luck. I'll be back in a few minutes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Sydney found Neil quite cheerful and marveled at
+it. He himself was oppressed by a nervousness that
+couldn't have been worse had he been due to face Robinson's
+big center the next day. He feared the &quot;antidote&quot;
+wouldn't work right; he feared Robinson had
+found out all about it and had changed their offense; he
+feared a dozen evils, and Neil was kept busy comforting
+him. At nine o'clock Paul returned without tidings of
+Cowan, and Sydney said good-night.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't believe I'll go out to the field to-morrow,&quot;
+he said half seriously. &quot;I'll stay in my room and
+listen to the cheering. If it sounds right toward the
+end of the game I'll know that things have gone our
+way.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You won't be able to tell anything of the sort,&quot;
+said Neil, &quot;for the fellows are going to cheer just as
+hard if we lose as they would had we won. Mills insists
+on that, and what he says goes this year.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's so,&quot; said Paul; &quot;and it's the way it ought
+to be. If ever a team needs cheering and encouragement
+it's when things are blackest, and not when it's
+winning.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And so, you see, you'll have to go to the field,
+Syd,&quot; said Neil as he followed the other out to the
+porch. &quot;By Jove, what a night, eh? I never saw so many
+stars, I believe. Well, we'll have a good clear day
+for the game and a good turf underfoot. Good-night,
+Syd.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good-night,&quot; answered the other. Then, sorrowfully,
+&quot;I do wish you were going to play, Neil.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thanks, Syd; but don't let that keep you awake.
+Good-night!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The room-mates chatted in a desultory way for half
+an hour longer and then prepared for bed. Paul was
+somewhat nervous and excited, and displayed a tendency
+to stop short in the middle of removing a stocking to
+gaze blankly before him for whole minutes at a time.
+Once he stood so long on one leg with his trousers half
+off that Neil feared he had gone to sleep, and so brought
+him back to a recollection of the business in hand by
+shying a boot at him.</p>
+
+<p>As for Neil, he was untroubled by nervousness. He
+believed Erskine was going to win. For the rest, the
+eve of battle held no exciting thoughts for him. He
+could neither win the game nor lose it; he was merely a
+spectator, like thousands of others; only he would see
+the contest from the players' bench instead of the big
+new stand that half encircled the field.</p>
+
+<p>But despite the feeling of aloofness that possessed
+and oppressed him, sleep did not come readily. For a
+long time he heard Paul stirring about restlessly across
+the little bedroom and the occasional cheers of some party
+of patriotic students returning to their rooms across the
+common. His brain refused to stop its labors; and, in
+fact, kept busily at them long after he had fallen asleep.
+He dreamed continually, a ceaseless stream of weird, unpleasant
+visions causing him to turn and toss all through
+the night and leaving him when dawn came weary and
+unrefreshed.</p>
+
+<p>Out of doors the early sun was brushing away the
+white frost. The sky was almost devoid of clouds, and
+the naked branches of the elms reached upward unswayed
+by any breeze. It was an ideal day, that 23d of November,
+bright, clear, and keen. Nature could not
+have been kinder to the warriors who, in a few short
+hours, were to meet upon the yellowing turf, nor to the
+thousands who were to assemble and cheer them on to
+victory--or defeat.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX</h2>
+
+<h3>COWAN BECOMES INDIGNANT</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>Breakfast at the training-table that morning was a
+strange meal, to which the fellows loitered in at whatever
+hour best pleased them. Many showed signs of
+restless slumber, and the trainer was as watchful as
+an old hen with a brood of chickens. For some there
+were Saturday morning recitations; those who were free
+were sent out to the field at ten o'clock and were put
+through a twenty-minute signal practise. Among
+these were Neil and Paul. A trot four times around
+the gridiron ended the morning's work, and they were
+dismissed with orders to report at twelve o'clock for
+lunch.</p>
+
+<p>Neil, Paul, and Foster walked back together, and it
+was the last that suggested going down to the depot
+to see the arrival of the Robinson players. So they
+turned down Poplar Street to Main and made their way
+along in front of the row of stores there. The village
+already showed symptoms of excitement. The windows
+were dressed in royal purple, with here and there a touch
+of the brown of Robinson, and the sidewalk already held
+many visitors, while others were invading the college
+grounds across the street. Farther on the trio passed
+the bicycle repair-shop. In front of the door, astride
+an empty box, sat the proprietor, sunning himself and
+keeping a careful watch on the village happenings. With
+a laugh Neil left his companions and ran across the
+street.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good-morning,&quot; he said. The little man on the box
+looked up inquiringly but failed to recognize his tormentor.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mornin',&quot; he grunted suspiciously.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I wanted to tell you,&quot; said Neil gravely, &quot;that your
+diagnosis was correct, after all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hey?&quot; asked the little man querulously.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, it <i>was</i> a cold-chisel that did it,&quot; said Neil.
+&quot;You remember you said it was.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Cold-chisel? Say, what you talkin'--&quot; Then a
+light of recognition sprang into his weazened features.
+&quot;You're the feller that owes me a quarter!&quot; he cried
+shrilly, scrambling to his feet.</p>
+
+<p>Neil was off on the instant. As the three went on
+toward the station the little man's denunciations followed
+them:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You come back here an' pay me that quarter! If
+I knew yer name I'd have ther law on yer! But I know
+yer face, an' I'll--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;His name's Legion,&quot; called Ted Foster over his
+shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hey? What?&quot; shrieked the repair man.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Legion!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't know what you say, but I'll report that
+feller ter th' authorities!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then a long whistle broke in upon the discussion, and
+the three rushed for the station platform.</p>
+
+<p>From the vantage-point of a baggage-truck they
+watched the Robinson players and the accompanying contingent
+descend from the train. There were twenty-eight
+of the former, heavily built, strapping-looking fellows,
+and with them a small army of coaches, trainers,
+and supporters. Neil dug his elbow against Paul.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Look,&quot; he said, &quot;there's your friend Brill.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And sure enough, there was the Robinson coach who
+had visited the two at Hillton a year before and tried
+to get them to go to the rival college.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If you'd like to make arrangements for next year,
+Paul,&quot; Neil whispered mischievously, &quot;now's your time.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But Paul grinned and shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>The players and most of the coaches tumbled into
+carriages and were taken out to Erskine Field for a short
+practise, and the balance of the arrivals started on foot
+toward the hotel. The three friends retraced their steps.
+Luckily, the proprietor of the bicycle repair-shop was
+so busy looking over the strangers that they passed unseen
+in the little stream. There remained the better part
+of an hour before lunch-time, and they found themselves
+at a loss for a way to spend the time. Foster finally
+went off to his room, as he explained airily, &quot;to dash
+off a letter on his typewriter,&quot; a statement that was
+greeted with howls of derision from the others, who,
+for want of a better place, went into Butler's bookstore
+and aimlessly looked over the magazines and
+papers.</p>
+
+<p>It was while thus engaged that Paul heard his name
+spoken, and turned to find Mr. Brill smilingly holding
+out his hand.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I thought I wasn't mistaken,&quot; the Robinson coach
+said as they shook hands. &quot;And isn't that your friend
+Fletcher over there?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil heard and came over, and the three stood and
+talked for a few minutes. Mr. Brill seemed well pleased
+with the football outlook.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'll wager you gentlemen will regret not coming to
+us after to-day's game is over,&quot; he laughed. &quot;I hear
+you've got something up your sleeve.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We have,&quot; said Neil.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;So I heard. What's the nature of it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It's muscle,&quot; answered Neil gravely.</p>
+
+<p>The coach laughed. &quot;Of course, if it's a secret, I
+don't want to hear it. But I think you're safe to get
+beaten, secret or no secret, eh?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nonsense!&quot; said Paul. &quot;You won't know what
+struck you when we get through with you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Brill laughed good-naturedly but didn't look
+alarmed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;By the way,&quot; he said, &quot;I saw one of your players
+a while ago--Cowan--the fellow we protested. He
+seemed rather sore.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Where was he?&quot; asked Paul eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;In a drug-store down there toward the next corner.
+Have your coaches found a good man for his place?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, yes, it wasn't hard to fill,&quot; answered Neil.
+&quot;Witter's got it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Witter? I don't think I've heard of him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, he's not famous--yet; you'll know him better
+later on.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Paul was plainly anxious to go in search of Cowan,
+and so they bade the Robinson coach good-by. Out on
+the sidewalk Neil turned a troubled face toward his
+friend.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Say, Paul, Cowan knows all about the 'antidote,'
+doesn't he?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, yes, I suppose so; he's seen it played.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And he knows the signals, too, eh?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Of course. Why?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, I've been wondering whether--You heard
+what Brill said--that Cowan was feeling sore? Well,
+do you suppose he'd be mean enough to--to--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;By thunder!&quot; muttered Paul. Then: &quot;No, I don't
+believe that Cowan would do a thing like that. I don't
+think he's a--a traitor!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, you know him better than I do,&quot; said Neil,
+&quot;and I dare say you're right. Only--only I wish we
+could be certain.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'll find him,&quot; answered Paul determinedly. &quot;You
+wait here for me; or, no, I may have to hunt; I'll see
+you at lunch. I'll find out all right.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He was off on the instant. As he had told Neil, he
+didn't believe that Cowan would reveal secrets to Brill
+or any other of the Robinson people; but--well, he realized
+that Cowan was feeling very much aggrieved, and
+that he might in his present state of mind do what in a
+saner moment he would not consider. At the drug-store
+he was told that Cowan had left a few minutes before.
+The only place that Paul could think of where Cowan
+was likely to be was his room, so thither he went. He
+found the deposed guard engaged in replacing certain
+of his pictures and ornaments which had been taken
+down.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hello!&quot; he said. &quot;Thought you'd cut my acquaintance
+too.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nonsense,&quot; answered Paul, &quot;I've been trying to
+find you ever since last night. Where've you been?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, just knocking around. I got back late last
+night.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I was afraid you had left college. You know you
+said you might.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I know. Well, I've changed my mind. I guess
+I'll stay on until recess anyway; maybe until summer.
+What's the use going anywhere else? If I went to Robinson
+I couldn't play; Erskine would protest me. I
+wish to goodness I'd had sense enough to let that academy
+team go hang! Only I needed some money, and it seemed
+a good way to make it. After all, there wasn't anything
+dishonest about it!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;N--no,&quot; said Paul.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, was there?&quot; Cowan demanded, turning upon
+him fiercely. Paul shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, there wasn't. Only, of course, you'd ought
+to have remembered that it disqualified you here.&quot;
+Cowan looked surprised.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My, but you're getting squeamish!&quot; he said. &quot;The
+first thing you know you'll be as bad as Fletcher.&quot; There
+was a moment's silence. &quot;What does he say about it?&quot;
+Cowan asked carelessly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Who, Neil? Oh, he--he sympathizes with you,&quot;
+answered Paul vaguely. &quot;Says it's awfully hard lines,
+but doesn't think the committee could do anything else.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Humph!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;By the way,&quot; said Paul, recollecting his errand, &quot;I
+met Brill of Robinson a while ago. He said he'd seen
+you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; grunted Cowan. &quot;I'd like to punch him.
+Made believe he was all cut up over my being put off.
+Why--why it was he that knew about that academy
+business! Last September he tried to get me to go to
+Robinson; offered me anything I wanted, and I refused.
+After all a--a fellow's got some loyalty! He asked all
+sorts of questions as to whether I was eligible or not, and
+I--I don't know what made me, but I told him about
+taking that money for playing tackle on that old academy
+team. He said that wouldn't matter any. But after I
+decided not to go to Robinson he changed his tune; said
+he wasn't sure but that I was ineligible!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He's a cad,&quot; said Paul.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And then to-day he tried to get sympathetic, but I
+shut him up mighty quick. I told him I knew well
+enough he was the one who had started the protest, and
+offered to punch his nose if he'd come over back of the
+stores; but he wouldn't,&quot; added Cowan aggrievedly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You--you didn't let out anything to him that would--er--help
+them in the game, did you?&quot; asked Paul,
+studying the floor with great attention.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Let out anything?&quot; asked Cowan in puzzled tones.
+&quot;What do you--&quot; He put down the picture he held
+and faced Paul, the blood dying his face. &quot;Look here,
+Paul, what do you mean by that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, why--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You want to know if I turned traitor? If I gave
+away our signals or something like that, eh?&quot; There
+was honest indignation in his voice and a trace of pain,
+and Paul regretted his suspicions on the instant.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, come now, old man,&quot; he began, &quot;what I
+meant--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now let me tell you something, Gale,&quot; said Cowan.
+&quot;I may not be so nice as you and Fletcher and Devoe
+and a lot more of your sort, but I'm not an out-and-out
+rascal and traitor! And I didn't think you'd put that
+on me, by Jove! I've no love for some of the fellows
+in this college, nor for Mills, and I wouldn't care if we
+got beaten--&quot; He paused. &quot;Yes, I would, too; I want
+Robinson to get done up so hard that they'll throw that
+cheat Brill out of there. But I want you to understand
+right here and now that I'm not cad enough to sell
+signals.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I beg your pardon, Tom,&quot; said Paul earnestly. &quot;I
+didn't think it of you. Only, when Brill said he'd seen
+you and that you were feeling sore, we--I--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, so it was Fletcher that suspected it, was it?&quot;
+demanded Cowan.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No more than I,&quot; answered Paul stoutly. &quot;We
+neither of us really thought you'd turn traitor, but I
+was afraid that, feeling the way you naturally would,
+you might thoughtlessly say something that Brill could
+make use of. That's all&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Cowan looked doubtful for a moment, then he sniffed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, all right,&quot; he said finally. &quot;Forget it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You're going out to the game, aren't you?&quot; Paul
+asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, I guess so. What's Fletcher think of being
+laid off?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, he doesn't seem to mind it as I thought he
+would. I--I don't know quite what to make of him.
+It almost seems that he's--well, glad of it!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Huh! You've got another guess, my friend.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How's that? What do you mean?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nothing much; only I guess I've got better eyes
+than you,&quot; responded Cowan with a grin. After a
+pause during which he rearranged the objects on the
+mantel-shelf to his satisfaction, he turned to Paul
+again:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Say, do you think Fletcher and I could get on
+together if--well, if we knew each other better?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm sure you could,&quot; answered Paul eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, I think I'd like to try it. He--he's not a
+bad sort of a chap. Only maybe he wouldn't care to--er--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, yes, he would,&quot; answered Paul. &quot;You'll see,
+Tom.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, maybe so. Going? Good luck to you. I'll
+see you on the field.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Paul hurried around the long curve of Elm Street
+toward Pearson's boarding-house, where the players were
+already gathering for luncheon. He found Neil on the
+steps and dragged him off and down to the gate.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It's all right,&quot; he said. &quot;I found him and asked
+him, and I wish I hadn't. He was awfully cut up about
+it; seemed hurt to think I could suspect such a thing.
+Though, really, I didn't quite suspect, you know.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm sorry we hurt his feelings,&quot; said Neil. &quot;It
+was a bit mean of me to suggest it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He's going to stay for a while,&quot; went on Paul. &quot;And--and--Look
+here, chum, don't you think that if--er--you
+tried you could get to like him better? From
+something he said to-day I found out that he thinks
+you're a good sort and he'd like to get on with you.
+Maybe if we kind of looked after him we could--oh, I
+don't know! But you see what I mean?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, I see what you mean,&quot; replied Neil thoughtfully.
+&quot;And maybe we'd get on better if we tried again.
+Anyhow, Paul, you ask him down to the room some
+night and--and we'll see.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thanks,&quot; said Paul gratefully. &quot;And now let's get
+busy with the funeral baked beans--I mean meats. Gee,
+I've got about as much appetite as a fly! I--I wish the
+game was over with!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;So do I,&quot; answered Neil, as with a sigh he listlessly
+followed his chum into the house.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI</h2>
+
+<h3>THE &quot;ANTIDOTE&quot; IS ADMINISTERED</h3>
+<br>
+
+<br><p class="ctr"><img src="images/illus-237.png" width="80%" alt=""></p><br>
+
+<p>High up against a fair blue sky studded with fleecy
+clouds streamed a banner of royal purple bearing in its
+center a great white E--a flare of intense color visible
+from afar over the topmost branches of the empty elms,
+and a beacon toward which the stream of spectators set
+their steps. In the tower of College Hall the old bell
+struck two o'clock, and the throngs at the gates of Erskine
+Field moved faster, swaying and pushing past the ticket-takers
+and streaming out onto the field toward the big
+stands already piled high with laughing, chattering humanity.
+Under the great flag stretched a long bank of
+somber grays and black splashed thickly with purple,
+looking from a little distance as though the big banner
+had dripped its dye on to the multitude beneath. Opposite,
+the rival tiers of crowded seats were pricked out
+lavishly with the rich but less brilliant brown, while at the
+end of the enclosure, where the throngs entered, a smaller
+stand flaunted the two colors in almost equal proportions.</p>
+
+<p>And between stretched a smooth expanse of russet-hued
+turf ribbed with white lines that glared in the afternoon
+sunlight.</p>
+
+<p>The college band, augmented for the occasion from
+the ranks of the village musicians, played blithely; some
+twelve thousand persons talked, laughed, or shouted
+ceaselessly; and the cheering sections were loudly contending
+for vocal supremacy. And suddenly on to this
+scene trotted a little band of men in black sweaters with
+purple 'E's, nice new canvas trousers, and purple and
+black stockings; and just as suddenly the north stand
+arose and the Robinson cheers were blotted out by a
+mighty chorus that swept from end to end of the structure
+and thundered impressively across the field:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Erskine! Erskine! Erskine! Rah-rah-rah, rah-rah-rah,
+rah-rah-rah! Erskine! Erskine! Erskine!</i>&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It was repeated over and over, and might, perhaps,
+have been sounding yet had not the Robinson players,
+sturdy, brown-clad youths, ambled onto the field. Then
+it was Robinson's turn to make a noise, and she made
+it; there's no doubt about that.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Rah-rah-rah! Robinson! Rah-rah-rah! Robinson!
+Rah-rah-rah! Robinson! Robinson! Robinson!</i>&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The substitutes of both teams retired to the benches
+and the players who were to start the game warmed up.
+Over near the east goal three Erskine warriors were trying--alas,
+not very successfully!--to kick the ball over
+the cross-bar; they were Devoe and Paul and Mason.
+Nearer at hand Ted Foster was personally conducting a
+little squad around the field by short stages, and his
+voice, shrilly cheerful, thrilled doubting supporters of the
+Purple hopefully. Robinson's players were going through
+much the same antics at the other end of the gridiron,
+and there was a business-like air about them that caused
+many an Erskine watcher to scent defeat for his college.</p>
+
+<p>The cheers had given place to songs, and the leader
+of the band faced the occupants of the north stand and
+swung his baton vigorously. Presumably the band was
+playing, but unless you had been in its immediate vicinity
+you would never have known it. Many of the popular
+airs of the day had been refitted with new words for
+the occasion. As poetic compositions they were not remarkable,
+but sung with enthusiasm by several hundred
+sturdy voices they answered the purpose. Robinson replied
+in kind, but in lesser volume, and the preliminary
+battle, the war of voices, went on until three persons,
+a youth in purple, a youth in brown, and a man in everyday
+attire, met in the middle of the field and watched
+a coin spin upward in the sunlight and fall to the ground.
+Then speedily the contesting forces took their position,
+the lines-men and timekeeper hurried forward, and the
+great stands were almost stilled.</p>
+
+<p>Erskine had the ball and the west goal. Stowell
+poised the pigskin to his liking and drew back. Devoe
+shouted a last word of caution. The referee, a well-known
+football player and coach, raised his whistle.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Are you ready, Erskine? All ready, Robinson?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then the whistle shrilled, the timekeeper's watch
+clicked, the ball sped away, and the game had begun.</p>
+
+<p>The brown-clad skirmishers leaped forward to oppose
+the invaders, while the pigskin, slowly revolving, arched in
+long flight toward the west goal. It struck near the ten-yard
+line and the wily Robinson left half let it go; but
+instead of rolling over the goal-line it bumped erratically
+against the left post and bobbed back to near the first
+white line. The left half was on it then like a flash, but
+the Erskine forwards were almost upon him and his run
+was only six yards long, and it was Robinson's ball on
+her ten-yard line. The north stand was applauding vociferously
+this stroke of fortune. If Erskine could get
+possession of the ball now she might be able to score; but
+her coaches, watching intently from the side-line, knew
+that only the veriest fluke could give the pigskin to the
+Purple. And meanwhile, with hearts beating a little
+faster than usual, they awaited the first practical test of
+the &quot;antidote.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Robinson lined up quickly. Left tackle dropped from
+the line, and taking a position between full-back and
+right half, formed the center of the tandem that faced
+the tackle-guard hole on the right. Left half stood well
+back, behind quarter, ready to oppose any Erskine players
+who managed to get around the left of their line.
+The full-back who headed the tandem was a notable line-bucker,
+although his weight was but 172 pounds. The
+left tackle, Balcom, tipped the scales at 187, while the
+third member of the trio was twenty pounds lighter.
+Together they represented 525 pounds.</p>
+
+<p>Opposed to them were Gillam and Mason, whose combined
+weight was 312 pounds. Gillam stood between
+left-guard and tackle, with Mason, his hands on the other's
+shoulders, close behind.</p>
+
+<p>The Robinson quarter stared for an instant with interest
+at the opposing formation, and the full-back, crouched
+forward ready to plunge across the little space that
+divided him from the opponents' territory, looked uneasy.
+Then the quarter stooped behind the big center.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Signal!</i>&quot; he called. &quot;<i>12--21--212!</i>&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The ball came back to him. At the same instant
+the tandem moved forward, the Erskine guard and tackle
+engaged the opposing guard and tackle, and Gillam and
+Mason shot through the hole, the former with head down
+and a padded shoulder presented to the enemy, and the
+latter steadying him and hurling him forward. Then
+two things happened at the same moment; the ball passed
+from quarter to tackle, and Gillam and the leader of the
+tandem came together.</p>
+
+<p>The shock of that collision was plainly heard on the
+side-lines. For an instant the tandem stopped short.
+Then superior weight told, and it moved forward again,
+reenforced by quarter and right end; but simultaneously
+the Erskine quarter and left half made themselves
+felt back of Mason and Gillam, and then chaos reigned.
+The entire forces of each side were in the play, and for
+nearly half a minute the swaying mass moved inch by
+inch, first forward, then backward, the Robinson left
+tackle refusing to believe that their famous play was for
+once a failure and so clinging desperately to the ball,
+the center of a veritable maelstrom of panting, struggling
+players. Then the whistle sounded and the dust
+of battle cleared away. Robinson had gained half a
+yard.</p>
+
+<p>The north stand cheered delightedly. It had only
+seen the Robinson tandem stopped in its tracks, and did
+not know that in the struggle just passed Erskine had
+used a new and novel defense for the first time on any
+football field, had vindicated her coaches' faith in it, and
+brought surprise and dismay to the brown-clad warriors
+and their adherents. If it had known as much as Mills
+and Jones and Sydney about the &quot;antidote&quot; it would
+have shouted itself hoarse.</p>
+
+<p>Gillam trotted back to his place. His extra-padded
+head-harness and heavy shoulder-pads had brought him
+forth unscathed. On the side-line the Erskine coaches
+talked softly to each other, trying hard to look unconcerned,
+but nevertheless showing their pleasure. Sydney
+Burr, rather pale, was among them, and was, perhaps,
+the happiest of all. The bench whereon the substitutes
+sat was one long grin from end to end. But Robinson
+was far from being beaten, and the game went on.</p>
+
+<p>Again the tandem was hurled at the same point, and
+again Gillam met the shock of it. This time the defense
+worked better, and Robinson lost the half-yard of gain
+and another half-yard on top of that.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Six yards to gain,&quot; said the score-board. And the
+purple-decked stand voiced its triumph.</p>
+
+<p>Robinson wisely decided to yield possession of the ball
+and get away from such a dangerous locality. On the
+next play she punted and Paul was brought to earth on
+Robinson's fifty yards. Now was the time for Erskine
+to test her offensive powers. On the first play, using
+the close-formation, Gillam slashed a hole between the
+opposing center and right-guard and Mason went through
+for two yards. The next play netted them another yard
+in the same place. Then Paul was given the pigskin for
+a try outside of right tackle and reeled off four yards
+more before he was downed. It was quick starting and
+fast running, and for the moment Robinson was taken
+off her feet; but the next try ended dismally, for in
+an attempt to get through the left of the line between
+guard and tackle Mason was caught and thrown back for
+a two-yard loss. Another try outside of tackle on that
+side of the line netted but a bare three feet, and Foster
+dropped back for a kick. His effort was not very successful,
+and the ball was Robinson's on her twenty-seven
+yards.</p>
+
+<p>Now she tried the tackle-tandem on the other side
+of center, hurling right tackle, followed by left half with
+the ball, and full-back at the guard-tackle hole. Paul
+led the defense this time, and again Robinson was brought
+up all standing. Another try at the same point with
+like results, and Robinson changed her tactics. With
+the tandem formation, the ball went to full-back, and
+with left end and tackle interfering he skirted Erskine's
+right for seven yards and brought the wearers of the
+brown to their feet shouting wildly. Perhaps no one was
+more surprised than Bob Devoe, for it was his end that
+had been circled. Certainly no one was more thoroughly
+disgusted than he. The Robinson left end had put him
+out of the play as neatly as though he had been the
+veriest tyro. Devoe sized up that youth, set his lips together,
+and kept his eyes open.</p>
+
+<p>Robinson now had the ball near her thirty-five yards
+and returned to the tackle-tandem. In two plays she
+gained two yards, the result of faster playing. Then another
+try outside of right tackle brought her five yards.
+Tackle-tandem again, one yard; again, two yards; a try
+outside of tackle, one yard; Erskine's ball on Robinson's
+forty-three yards. The pigskin went to Gillam, who got
+safely away outside Robinson's right end and reeled off
+ten yards before he was caught. Again he was given
+the ball for a plunge through right tackle and barely
+gained a yard. Mason found another yard between left-guard
+and tackle and Foster kicked. It was poorly done,
+and the leather went into touch at the twenty-five yards,
+and once more Robinson set her feet toward the Erskine
+goal.</p>
+
+<p>So far the playing had all been done in her territory
+and her coaches were looking anxious. Erskine's defense
+was totally unlooked for, both as regarded style and
+effectiveness, and the problem that confronted them was
+serious. Their team had been perfected in the tackle-tandem
+play to the neglecting of almost all else. Their
+backs were heavy and consequently slow when compared
+with their opponents. To be sure, thus far runs outside
+of tackle and end had been successful, but the coaches
+well knew that as soon as Erskine found that such plays
+were to be expected she would promptly spoil them.
+Kicking was not a strong point with Robinson this year;
+at that game her enemy could undoubtedly beat her.
+Therefore, if the tackle-back play didn't work what was
+to be done? There was only one answer: Make it!
+There was no time or opportunity now to teach new
+tricks; Robinson must stand or fall by tackle-tandem.
+And while the coaches were arriving at this conclusion,
+White, their captain and quarter-back, had already
+reached it.</p>
+
+<p>He placed the head of the tandem nearer the line,
+put the tackle at the head of it, and hammered away
+again. Mills, seeing the move, silently applauded. It
+was the one way to strengthen the tandem play, for by
+starting nearer the line the tandem could possibly reach
+it before the charging opponents got into the play. Momentum
+was sacrificed and an instant of time gained, and,
+as it proved, that instant of time meant a difference of
+fully a yard on each play. Had the two Erskine warriors
+whose duty it was to hurl themselves against the
+tandem been of heavier weight it is doubtful if the change
+made would have greatly benefited their opponents; but,
+as it was, the two forces met about on Robinson's line,
+and after the first recoil the Brown was able to gain, sometimes
+a bare eighteen inches, sometimes a yard, once or
+twice three or four.</p>
+
+<p>And now Robinson took up her march steadily toward
+the Purple's goal. The backs plowed through for short
+distances; Gillam and Paul bore the brunt of the terrific
+assaults heroically; the Erskine line fell back foot by
+foot, yard by yard; and presently Robinson crossed the
+fifty-five-yard line and emerged into Erskine territory.
+Here there was a momentary pause in her conquering
+invasion. A fumble by the full-back allowed Devoe to
+get through and fall on the ball.</p>
+
+<p>Erskine now knifed the Brown's line here and there
+and shot Gillam and Paul through for short gains and
+made her distance. Then, with the pigskin back in Robinson
+territory, Erskine was caught holding and Robinson
+once more took up her advance. Carey at right
+tackle weakened and the Brown piled her backs through
+him. On Erskine's thirty-two yards he gave place to
+Jewell and the tandem moved its attack to the other side
+of the line. Paul and Gillam, both pretty well punished,
+still held out stubbornly. Yard by yard the remaining
+distance was covered. On her fifteen yards, almost under
+the shadow of her goal-posts, Erskine was given ten yards
+for off-side play, and the waning hopes of the breathless
+watchers on the north stand revived.</p>
+
+<p>But from the twenty-five-yard line the steady rushes
+went on again, back over the lost ground, and soon, with
+the half almost gone, Robinson placed the ball on Erskine's
+five yards. Twice the tandem was met desperately
+and hurled back, but on the third down, with her
+whole back-field behind the ball, Robinson literally
+mowed her way through, sweeping Paul and Mason, and
+Gillam and Foster before her, and threw Bond over between
+the posts with the ball close snuggled beneath him.</p>
+
+<p>The south stand leaped to its feet, blue flags and
+streamers fluttered and waved, and cheers for Robinson
+rent the air until long after the Brown's left half had
+kicked a goal. Then the two teams faced each other
+again and the Robinson left end got the kick-off and ran
+it back fifteen yards. Again the battering of the tackle-tandem
+began, and Paul and Gillam, nearly spent,
+were unable to withstand it after the first half dozen
+plays. Mason went into the van of the defense in place
+of Gillam, but the Brown's advance continued; one yard,
+two yards, three yards were left behind.</p>
+
+<p>Mills, watching, glanced almost impatiently at the
+timekeeper, who, with his watch in hand, followed the
+battle along the side-line. The time was almost up, but
+Robinson was back on Erskine's thirty-five yards. But
+now the timekeeper walked on to the gridiron, his eyes
+fixed intently on the dial, and ere the ball went again
+into play he had called time. The lines broke up and
+the two teams trotted away.</p>
+
+<p>The score-board proclaimed:</p>
+
+<p>Erskine 0, Opponents 6.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII</h2>
+
+<h3>BETWEEN THE HALVES</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>Neil trotted along at the tail-end of the procession
+of substitutes, so deep in thought that he passed through
+the gate without knowing it, and only came to himself
+when he stumbled up the locker-house steps. He barked
+his shins and reached a conclusion at the same instant.</p>
+
+<p>At the door of the dressing-room a strong odor of
+witch-hazel and liniment met him. He squeezed his way
+past a group of coaches and looked about him. Confusion
+reigned supreme. Rubbers and trainer were hard
+at work. Simson's voice, commanding, threatening, was
+raised above all others, a shrill, imperious note in a rising
+and falling babel of sound. Veterans of the first half
+and substitutes chaffed each other mercilessly. Browning,
+with an upper lip for all the world like a piece of
+raw beef, mumbled good-natured retorts to the charges
+brought against him by Reardon, the substitute quarter-back.</p>
+
+<br><p class="ctr"><img src="images/illus-250.png" width="80%" alt=""><br>
+<b>Erskine vs. Robinson--The First Half.</b></p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, you really ought to be careful,&quot; the latter was
+saying with apparent concern. &quot;If you let those chaps
+throw you around like that you may get bruised or
+broken. I'll speak to Price and ask him to be more
+easy with you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mmbuble blubble mummum,&quot; observed Browning.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, don't say that,&quot; Reardon entreated.</p>
+
+<p>Neil was looking for Paul, and presently he discovered
+him. He was lying on his back while a rubber was
+pommeling his neck and shoulders violently and apparently
+trying to drown him in witch-hazel. He caught
+sight of Neil and winked one highly discolored eye. Neil
+examined him gravely; Paul grinned.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There's a square inch just under your left ear, Paul,
+that doesn't appear to have been hit. How does that
+happen?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Paul grinned more generously, although the effort
+evidently pained him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It's very careless of them, I must say,&quot; Neil went
+on sternly. &quot;See that it is attended to in the next half.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't worry,&quot; answered Paul, &quot;it will be.&quot; Neil
+smiled.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How are you feeling?&quot; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Fine,&quot; Paul replied. &quot;I'm just getting limbered
+up.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You look it,&quot; said Neil dryly. &quot;I suppose by the
+time your silly neck is broken you'll be in pretty good
+shape to play ball, eh?&quot; Simson hurried up, closely followed
+by Mills.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How's the neck?&quot; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It's all right now,&quot; answered Paul. &quot;It felt as
+though it had been driven into my body for about a
+yard.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you think you can start the next half?&quot; asked
+Mills anxiously.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sure; I can play it through; I'm all right now,&quot;
+replied Paul gaily. Mills's face cleared.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good boy!&quot; he muttered, and turned away. Neil
+sped after him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mr. Mills,&quot; he called. The head coach turned,
+annoyed by the interruption.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, Fletcher; what is it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Can't I get in for a while, sir?&quot; asked Neil earnestly.
+&quot;I'm feeling fine. Gillam can't last the game,
+nor Paul. I wish you'd let--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;See Devoe about it,&quot; answered Mills shortly. He
+hurried away, leaving Neil with open mouth and reddening
+cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, that's what I get for disappointing folks,&quot;
+he told himself. &quot;Only he needn't have been <i>quite</i> so
+short. What's the good of asking Devoe? He won't let
+me on. And--but I'll try, just the same. Paul's had
+his chance and there's no harm now in looking after Neil
+Fletcher.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He found Devoe with Foster and one of the coaches.
+The latter was lecturing them forcibly in lowered tones,
+and Neil hesitated to interrupt; but while he stood by
+undecided Devoe glanced up, his face a pucker of anxiety.
+Neil strode forward.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Say, Bob, get me on this half, can't you? Mills
+told me to see you,&quot; he begged. &quot;Give me a chance,
+Bob!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Devoe frowned impatiently and shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Can't be done, Neil. Mills has no business sending
+you to me. He's looking after the fellows himself. I've
+got troubles enough of my own.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But if I tell him you're willing?&quot; asked Neil
+eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm not willing,&quot; said Devoe. &quot;If he wants you
+he'll put you on. Don't bother me, Neil, for heaven's
+sake. Talk to Mills.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil turned away in disappointment. It was no use.
+He knew he could play the game of his life if only
+they'd take him on. But they didn't know; they only
+knew that he had been tried and found wanting. There
+was no time now to test doubtful men. Mills and Devoe
+and Simson were not to be blamed; Neil recognized that
+fact, but it didn't make him happy. He found a seat on
+a bench near the door and dismally looked on. Suddenly
+a conversation near at hand engaged his attention.</p>
+
+<p>Mills, Jones, Sydney Burr, and two other assistant
+coaches were gathered together, and Mills was talking.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The 'antidote's' all right,&quot; he was saying decidedly.
+&quot;If we had a team that equaled theirs in weight
+we could stop them short; but they're ten pounds heavier
+in the line and seven pounds heavier behind it. What
+can you expect? Without the 'antidote' they'd have
+had us snowed under now; they'd have scored five or six
+times on us.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Easy,&quot; said Jones. &quot;The 'antidote's' all right,
+Burr. What we need are men to make it go. That's
+why I say take Gillam out. He's played a star game,
+but he's done up now. Let Pearse take his place, play
+Gale as long as he'll last, and then put in Smith. How
+about Fletcher?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No good,&quot; answered Mills. &quot;At least--&quot; He
+stopped and narrowed his eyes, as was his way when
+thinking hard.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think he'd be all right, Mr. Mills,&quot; said Sydney.
+&quot;I--I know him pretty well, and I know he's the sort
+of fellow that will fight hardest when the game's going
+wrong.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I thought so, too,&quot; answered Mills; &quot;but--well,
+we'll see. Maybe we'll give him a try. Time's up now.--O
+Devoe!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, coming!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Here's your list. Better get your men out.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was a hurried donning of clothing, a renewed
+uproar.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;All ready, fellows,&quot; shouted the captain. &quot;Answer
+to your names: Kendall, Tucker, Browning, Stowell,
+Witter, Jewell, Devoe, Gale, Pearse, Mason, Foster.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There's not much use in talk,&quot; said Mills, as the
+babel partly died away. &quot;I've got no fault to find with
+the work of any of you in the last half; but we've got
+to do better in this half; you can see that for yourselves.
+You were a little bit weak on team-play; see if you
+can't get together. We're going to tie the score; maybe
+we're going to beat. Anyhow, let's work like thunder,
+fellows, and, if we can't do any more, tear that confounded
+tackle-tandem up and send it home in pieces.
+We've got thirty-five minutes left in which to show that
+we're as good if not better than Robinson. Any fellow
+that thinks he's not as good as the man he's going to
+line up against had better stay out. I know that every
+one of you is willing, but some of you appeared in the
+last half to be laboring under the impression that you
+were up against better men. Get rid of that idea.
+Those Robinson fellows are just the same as you--two
+legs, two arms, two eyes, a nose, and a mouth. Go at
+it right and you can put them out of the play. Remember
+before you give up that the other man's just as
+tuckered as you are, maybe more so. Your captain says
+we can win out. I think he knows more about it than
+we fellows on the side-line do. Now go ahead, get together,
+put all you've got into it, and see whether your
+captain knows what he's talking about. Let's have a cheer
+for Erskine!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil stood up on the bench and got into that cheer
+in great shape. He was feeling better. Mills had half
+promised to put him in, and while that might mean much
+or nothing it was ground for hope. He trotted on to
+the field and over to the benches almost happily.</p>
+
+<p>The spectators were settling back in their seats, and
+the cheering had begun once more. The north stand
+had regained its spirit. After all, the game wasn't lost
+until the last whistle blew, and there was no telling what
+might happen before that. So the student section
+cheered and sang, the band heroically strove to make
+itself heard, and the purple flags tossed and fluttered.
+The sun was almost behind the west corner of the stand,
+and overcoat collars and fur neck-pieces were being snuggled
+into place. From the west tiers of seats came the
+steady tramp-tramp of chilled feet, hinting their owners'
+impatience.</p>
+
+<p>The players took their places, silence fell, and the
+referee's whistle blew. Robinson kicked off, and the last
+half of the battle began.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXIII</h2>
+
+<h3>NEIL GOES IN</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>But what a dismal beginning it was!</p>
+
+<p>Pearse, who had taken Gillam's place at right half-back,
+misjudged the long, low kick, just managed to tip
+the ball with one outstretched hand as it went over his
+head, and so had to turn and chase it back to the goal-line.
+But Mason had seen the danger and was before
+him. Seizing the bouncing pigskin, he was able to reach
+the ten-yard line ere the Robinson right end bore him
+to earth. A moment later the ball went to the other
+side as a penalty for holding, and it was Robinson's first
+down on Erskine's twelve yards. Neil, watching intently
+from the bench, groaned loudly. Stone, beside him,
+kicked angrily into the turf.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That settles it,&quot; he muttered glumly. &quot;Idiots!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Pearse it was who met that first fierce onslaught of
+the Brown's tandem, and he was new to the play; but
+Mason was behind him, and he was sent crashing into
+the leader like a ball from the mouth of a cannon. The
+tandem stopped; a sudden bedlam of voices from the
+stands broke forth; there were cries of &quot;Ball! Ball!&quot; and
+Witter flung himself through, rolled over a few times,
+and on the twenty-yard line, with half the Erskine team
+striving to pull him on and all the Robinson team trying
+to pull him back, groaned a faint &quot;Down!&quot; Robinson's
+tackle had fumbled the pass, and for the moment Erskine's
+goal was out of danger.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Line up!&quot; shouted Ted Foster. &quot;Signal!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The men scurried to their places.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>49--35--23!</i>&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Back went the ball and Pearse was circling out
+toward his own left end, Paul interfering. The north
+stand leaped to its feet, for it looked for a moment as
+though the runner was safely away. But Seider, the
+Brown's right half, got him about the knees, and though
+Pearse struggled and was dragged fully five yards farther,
+finally brought him down. Fifteen yards was netted,
+and the Erskine supporters found cause for loud acclaim.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Bully tackle, that,&quot; said Neil. Stone nodded.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Seems to me we can get around those ends,&quot; he
+muttered; &quot;especially the left. I don't think Bloch is
+much of a wonder. There goes Pearse.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The ends were again worked by the two half-backs
+and the distance thrice won. The purple banners waved
+ecstatically and the cheers for Erskine thundered out.
+Neil was slapping Stone wildly on the knee.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hold on,&quot; protested the left end, &quot;try the other.
+That one's a bit lame.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Isn't Pearse a peach?&quot; said Neil. &quot;Oh, but I wish
+I was out there!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You may get a whack at it yet,&quot; answered Stone.
+&quot;There goes a jab at the line.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I may,&quot; sighed Neil. He paused and watched
+Mason get a yard through the Brown's left tackle. &quot;Only,
+if I don't, I suppose I won't get my E.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, yes, you will. The Artmouth game counts,
+you know.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I wasn't in it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's so, you weren't; I'd forgotten. But I think
+you'll get it, just the--Good work, Gale!&quot; Paul had
+made four yards outside of tackle, and it was again
+Erskine's first down on the fifty-five-yard line. The
+cheers from the north stand were continuous; Neil and
+Stone were obliged to put their heads together to hear
+what each other said.</p>
+
+<p>For five minutes longer Erskine's wonderful good fortune
+continued, and the ball was at length on Robinson's
+twenty-eight yards near the north side-line. Foster was
+waving his hand entreatingly toward the seats, begging
+for a chance to make his signals heard. From across the
+field, in the sudden comparative stillness of the north
+stand, thundered the confident slogan of Robinson. The
+brown-stockinged captain and quarter-back was shouting
+incessantly:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Steady now, fellows! Break through! Break through!
+Smash 'em up!&quot; He ran from one end to the other,
+thumping each encouragingly on the back, whispering
+threats and entreaties into their ears. &quot;Now, then,
+Robinson, let's stop 'em right here!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Foster, red-faced and hoarse, leaned forward, patted
+Stowell on the thigh, caught the ball, passed it quickly
+to Mason as that youth plunged for the line, and then
+threw himself into the breach, pushing, heaving, fighting
+for every inch that gave under his torn and scuffled shoes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Second down; four to gain!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Robinson was awake now to her danger. Foster saw
+the futility of further attempts at the line for the present
+and called for a run around left end. The ball went
+to Pearse, but Bloch for once was ready for him, and,
+getting by Kendall, nailed the runner prettily four yards
+back of the line to the triumphant p&aelig;ans of the south
+stand.</p>
+
+<p>When the teams had again lined up Foster dropped
+back as though to try a kick for goal, a somewhat difficult
+feat considering the angle. The Robinson captain
+was alarmed; he was ready to believe that a team who
+had already sprung one surprise on him was capable of
+securing goals from any angle whatever; his voice arose
+in hoarse entreaty:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Get through and block this kick, fellows! Get
+through! Get through!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Signal</i>!&quot; cried Foster. &quot;<i>44--18--23!</i>&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The ball flew back from Stowell and Foster caught it
+breast-high. The Erskine line held for a moment, then
+the blue-clad warriors came plunging through desperately,
+and had Foster attempted a kick the ball would never
+have gone ten feet; but Foster, who knew his limitations
+in the kicking line as well as any one else, had entertained
+no such idea. The pigskin, fast clutched to Paul's
+breast, was already circling the Brown's left end. Devoe
+had put his opponent out of the play, thereby revenging
+himself for like treatment in the first half, and Pearse,
+a veritable whirlwind, had bowled over the Robinson left
+half. There is, perhaps, no prettier play than a fake
+kick, when it succeeds, and the friends of Erskine recognized
+the fact and showed their appreciation in a way
+that threatened to shake the stand from its foundations.</p>
+
+<p>Paul and Pearse were circling well out in the middle
+of the field toward the Robinson goal, now some thirty
+yards distant measured by white lines, but far more than
+that by the course they were taking. Behind them
+streamed a handful of desperate runners; before them,
+rapidly getting between them and the goal, sped White,
+the Robinson captain and quarter. To the spectators a
+touch-down looked certain, for it was one man against
+two; the pursuit was not dangerous. But to Paul it
+seemed at each plunge a more forlorn attempt. So far
+he had borne more than his share of the punishment
+sustained by the tackle-tandem defense; he had worked
+hard on offense since the present half began, and now,
+wearied and aching in every bone and muscle, he found
+himself scarce able to keep pace with his interference.</p>
+
+<p>He would have yielded the ball to Pearse had he been
+able to tell the other to take it; but his breath was too far
+gone for speech. So he plunged onward, each step slower
+than that before, his eyes fixed on the farthest white
+streak. From three sides of the great field poured forth
+the resonance of twelve thousand voices, triumphant,
+despairing, appealing, inciting, the very acme of sound.</p>
+
+<p>Yet Paul vows that he heard nothing save the beat
+of Pearse's footsteps and the awful pounding of his own
+heart.</p>
+
+<p>On the fifteen-yard line, just to the left of the goal,
+the critical moment came. White, with clutching, outstretched
+hands, strove to evade Pearse's shoulder, and
+did so. But the effort cost him what he gained, for,
+dodging Pearse and striving to make a sudden turn
+toward Paul, his foot slipped and he measured his length
+on the turf; and ere he had regained his feet the pursuit
+passed over him. Pearse met the first runner squarely
+and both went down. At the same instant Paul threw
+up one hand blindly and fell across the last line.</p>
+
+<p>On the north stand hats and flags sailed through the
+air. The south stand was silent.</p>
+
+<p>Paul lay unmoving where he had fallen. Simson
+was at his side in a moment. Neil, his heart thumping
+with joy, watched anxiously from the bench. Presently
+the group dissolved and Paul emerged between Simson
+and Browning, white of face and stumbling weakly on
+his legs, but grinning like a jovial satyr. Mills turned
+to the bench and Neil's heart jumped into his throat;
+but it was Smith and not he who struggled feverishly
+out of his sweater, donned a head-harness, and sped on to
+the field. Neil sighed and sank back.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Next time,&quot; said Stone sympathetically. But Neil
+shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I guess there isn't going to be any 'next time,'&quot;
+he said dolefully. &quot;Time's nearly up.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not a bit of it; the last ten minutes is longer than
+all the rest of the game,&quot; answered Stone. &quot;I wonder
+who'll try the goal.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We've got to have it,&quot; said Neil. &quot;Surely Devoe
+can kick an easy one like that! Why, it's dead in the
+center!&quot; Stone shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I know, but Bob's got a bad way of getting nervous
+times like this. He knows that if he misses we've lost
+the game, unless we can manage to score again, which
+isn't likely; and it's dollars to doughnuts he doesn't come
+anywhere near it!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Paul staggered up to the bench, Simson carefully
+wrapping a blanket about him, and the fellows made
+room for him a little way from where Neil sat. He
+stretched his long legs out gingerly because of the aches,
+sighed contentedly, and looked about him. His eyes fell
+on Neil.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hello, chum!&quot; he said weakly. &quot;Haven't you gone
+in yet?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not yet,&quot; answered Neil cheerfully. &quot;How are
+you feeling?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, I'm--ouch!--I'm all right; a bit sore here and
+there.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Devoe's going to kick,&quot; said Stone uneasily.</p>
+
+<p>The ball had been brought out, and now Foster was
+holding it directly in front of the center of the cross-bar.
+The south stand was cheering and singing wildly
+in a desperate attempt to rattle the Erskine captain.
+The latter looked around once, and the Robinson supporters,
+taking that as a sign of nervousness, redoubled
+their noise.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Muckers!&quot; groaned Neil. Stone grinned.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Everything goes with them,&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p>The referee's hand went down, Devoe stepped forward,
+the blue-clad line leaped into the field, and the
+ball sped upward. As it fell Neil turned to Stone and
+the two stared at each other in doubt. From both stands
+arose a confused roar. Then their eyes sought the score-board
+at the west end of the field and they groaned in
+unison.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;NO GOAL.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What beastly luck!&quot; muttered Stone.</p>
+
+<p>Neil was silent. Mills and Jones were standing near
+by and looking toward the bench and Neil imagined they
+were discussing him. He watched breathlessly, then his
+heart gave a suffocating leap and he was racing toward
+the two coaches.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Warm up, Fletcher.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>That was all, but it was all Neil asked for. In a
+twinkling he was trotting along the line, stretching his
+cramped legs and arms. As he passed the bench he tried
+to look unconcerned, but the row of kindly, grinning
+faces told him that his delight was common property.
+Paul silently applauded.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile the teams had again faced each other.
+Twelve minutes of play remained and the score-board
+said: Erskine 5, Opponents 6. Both elevens had made
+changes. For Erskine, Graham, immense of bulk but
+slow, had replaced Stowell at center, and Reardon was
+in Foster's position. Robinson had put in new men at
+left tackle, right end, and full-back. The game went on
+again.</p>
+
+<p>Devoe got the kick-off and brought the ball back to
+his thirty yards; but he was injured when thrown and
+Bell took his place. Smith and Mason each made two
+yards around the ends and Pearse got through left-guard
+for one. Then a plunge at right tackle resulted disastrously,
+Mason being forced back three yards, and Smith
+took the pigskin for a try outside of right tackle. He
+was stopped easily and Mason kicked. Robinson got the
+ball on her fifty yards and ran it back to Erskine's forty-three.
+Once more the tackle-tandem was brought into
+play. Smith failed to stop it, and the head of the defense
+was given to Pearse; but Robinson's new left tackle was
+a good man, and yard by yard Erskine was borne back
+toward her goal. The south stand blossomed anew with
+brown silk and bunting.</p>
+
+<p>On her thirty yards Erskine was penalized for off-side
+and the ball was almost under her goal. The first
+fierce plunge of the tandem broke the Purple line in
+twain and the backs went through for three yards.
+Mason was hurt and the whistle shrilled. A cheer arose
+from the north stand and a youth running into the field
+from the side-line heard it with fast-beating heart.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Erskine! Erskine! Erskine! Rah-rah-rah, rah-rah-rah,
+rah-rah-rah! Fletcher! Fletcher! Fletcher!</i>&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mason was taken off, protesting feebly, and on the
+next plunge of the tackle-tandem Neil, with Pearse behind
+him, brought hope back to Erskine hearts, for the
+&quot;antidote &quot; worked to perfection again. All the pent-up
+strength and enthusiasm of Neil's body and heart were
+turned loose, and he played, as he had known he could
+if given the opportunity, as he had never played before,
+either at Erskine or Hillton. The spirit of battle held
+him; he was perfectly happy, and every knock and bruise
+brought him joy rather than pain. His chance had come
+to prove to both the coaches and the fellows that their
+first estimate of him was the correct one.</p>
+
+<p>Robinson made her distance and gained the twenty-yard
+line by a trick play outside of left tackle; but that
+was all she did on that occasion, for in the next three
+downs she failed to advance the ball a single inch, and
+it went to Erskine. Neil dropped back and the pigskin
+settled into his ready hands. When it next touched earth
+it was in Robinson's possession on her own fifty yards.
+That punt brought a burst of applause from the north
+seats. Robinson tried tackle-tandem again and Neil and
+Pearse stopped it short. Again, and again there was no
+advance; but when Neil picked himself out of the pile-up
+he made the discovery that something was radically
+wrong with his right arm and shoulder. He sat down
+on the trampled turf to think it over and closed his eyes.
+He heard the whistle and Reardon's voice above him:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hurt?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil looked up and shook his head. His gaze fell on
+Simson headed toward him followed by the water-carrier.
+He staggered to his feet, Reardon's arm about him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Keep 'Baldy' away,&quot; he muttered. &quot;I'm all right;
+but don't let him get to me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Reardon looked at his white face for a second in
+doubt. Simson was almost up to them. He wanted to
+win, did Reardon, and--</p>
+
+<p>&quot;All right here,&quot; he cried.</p>
+
+<p>Neil went to his place, Simson retreated, suspicion
+written all over his face, and the whistle sounded.</p>
+
+<p>Neil met the next attack with his left shoulder fore-most.
+And it was Erskine's ball on Robinson's fifty-yards.</p>
+
+<p>On the first try around the Brown's left end Smith
+took the leather twenty yards, catching Bloch napping.
+The north stand was on its feet in an instant. Cheer
+after cheer broke forth encouraging the Purple warriors
+to fight their way across those six remaining white lines
+and wrest victory from defeat. But there was no time
+to struggle over the thirty yards that intervened. A
+long run might bring a touch-down if Erskine could again
+get a back around an end, but two minutes was too short
+a time for line-bucking; and, besides, Reardon had his
+orders.</p>
+
+<p>On the side-line the timekeeper was keeping a careful
+eye upon his stop-watch.</p>
+
+<p>A try by Neil outside of right tackle netted but a
+yard and left him half fainting on the ground. Pearse set
+off for the left end of the line on the next play, but
+never reached it; the Robinson right tackle got through
+on to him and stopped him well back of his line.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Third down,&quot; called the referee, &quot;five to gain!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The teams were lined up about half-way between the
+Robinson goal and the south side of the field, the ball
+just inside the thirty-yard line. Reardon had been
+directed to try for a field-goal as soon as he got inside
+the twenty-five yards. This was only the thirty yards,
+and the angle was severe. There was perhaps one chance
+in three of making a goal from placement; a drop-kick
+was out of the question. Moreover, to make matters
+more desperate, Neil was injured; just how badly Reardon
+didn't know, but the other's white, drawn face told
+its own story. If the attempt failed he would be held
+to blame by the coaches, if it succeeded he would be
+praised for good generalship; it was a way coaches had.
+His consideration of the problem lasted but a fraction
+of a minute. He glanced at Neil and their eyes met.
+The quarter-back's mind was made up on the instant.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Signal</i>!&quot; he cried. &quot;<i>Steady, fellows; we want this;
+every one hold hard</i>!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He trotted back to the thirty-five-yard line and
+dropped to his knees, directly behind and almost facing
+center. Neil took up his position three yards from him
+and facing the goal. Pearse and Smith stood guard between
+him and the line. The Robinson right half turned
+and sped back to join the quarter, whose commands to
+&quot;Get through and stop this kick!&quot; were being shouted
+lustily from his position near the goal-line.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Signal!&quot; Reardon repeated. Graham stooped
+over the ball. Neil, pale but with a little smile about
+his mouth, measured his distance. Victory depended
+upon him. From where Reardon knelt to the goal was
+nearly forty yards on a straight line and the angle was
+severe. If he made it, well and good; if he missed--He
+recalled what Mills had told him ere he sent him in:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think you can win this for us, Fletcher. Once
+inside their twenty-five Reardon will give you the ball
+for a kick from drop or placement, as you think best.
+Whatever happens, don't let your nerves get the best
+of you. If you miss, why, you've missed, that's all.
+Don't think the world's coming to an end because
+we've been beaten. A hundred years from now, when
+you and I aren't even memories, Erskine will still be
+turning out football teams. But if we can, we want to
+win. Just keep cool and do your level best, that's all
+we ask. Now get in there.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil took a deep breath. He'd do his best. If the
+line held, the ball ought to go over. He was cool enough
+now, and although his shoulder seemed on fire, the smile
+about his mouth deepened and grew confident. Reardon
+stretched forth his hands.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Signal!</i>&quot; he cried for the third time; but no signal
+was forthcoming. Instead Graham sped the ball back to
+him, steady and true, and the Robinson line, almost
+caught napping, failed to charge until the oval had settled
+into Reardon's hands and had been placed upon the ground
+well cocked at the goal. Then the Brown's warriors broke
+through and bore down, big and ugly, upon Pearse and
+Smith; but Neil was stepping toward the ball; a long
+stride, a short one, a long one, and toe and pigskin came
+together. Pearse was down and Smith was shouldering
+valiantly at a big guard. Two blue-clad arms swept
+upward almost into the path of the rising ball; there
+was a confused sound of crashing bodies and rasping
+canvas, and then a Robinson man bounded against Neil
+and sent him reeling to earth.</p>
+
+<p>For an instant the desire to lie still and close his
+eyes was strong. But there was the ball! He rolled
+half over, and raising himself on his left hand looked
+eagerly toward the posts. The pigskin, turning lazily
+over and over, was still in flight. Straight for the goal
+it was speeding, but now it had begun to drop. Neil's
+heart stood still. Would it clear the cross-bar? It
+seemed scarcely possible, but even as despair seized him,
+for an instant the bar came between his straining eyes
+and the dropping ball!</p>
+
+<p>A figure with tattered purple sleeves near at hand
+leaped into the air, waving his arms wildly. On the stand
+across the field pandemonium broke loose.</p>
+
+<p>Neil closed his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>A moment later Simson found him there, sitting on
+the thirty-five-yard line, one arm hanging limply over
+his knee, his eyes closed, and his white face wreathed
+in smiles.</p>
+
+<p>Erskine 10, Opponents 6, said the score-board.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXIV</h2>
+
+<h3>AFTER THE BATTLE</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>&quot;You'll not get off so easily this time,&quot; said the
+doctor.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, sir,&quot; replied Neil, striving to look concerned.</p>
+
+<p>He was back on the couch again, just where he had
+been four weeks previous, with his shoulder swathed about
+in bandages just as it had been then.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I can't see what you were thinking about,&quot; went on
+the other irritably, &quot;to go on playing after you'd bust
+things up again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, sir--that is, I'm sure I don't know.&quot; Neil's
+tone was very meek, but the doctor nevertheless looked
+at him suspiciously.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Humph! Much you care, I guess. But, just the
+same, my fine fellow, it'll be Christmas before you have
+the use of that arm again. That'll give you time to see
+what an idiot you were.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thank you, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The doctor smiled in spite of himself and looked
+away.</p>
+
+<br><p class="ctr"><img src="images/illus-273.png" width="80%" alt=""><br>
+<b>Erskine vs. Robinson--The Second Half.</b></p>
+
+<p>&quot;Doesn't seem to have interfered with your appetite,
+anyhow,&quot; he said, glancing at the well-nigh empty
+tray on the chair.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, sir; I--I tried not to eat much, but I was
+terribly hungry, Doc.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, I guess you'll do.&quot; He picked up his hat;
+then he faced the couch again and its occupant. &quot;The
+trouble with you chaps,&quot; he said severely, &quot;is that
+as long as you've managed to get a silly old leather
+wind-bag over a fool streak of lime you think it
+doesn't matter how much you've broke yourselves to
+pieces.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, it's very thoughtless of us,&quot; murmured Neil
+with deep contriteness.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Humph!&quot; growled the doctor. &quot;See you in the
+morning.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>When the door had closed Neil reached toward the
+tray and with much difficulty buttered a piece of Graham
+bread, almost the only edible thing left. Then he settled
+back against the pillows, not without several grimaces
+as the injured shoulder was moved, and contentedly
+ate it. He was very well satisfied. To be sure, a month
+of invalidism was not a pleasing prospect, but things
+might have been worse. And the end paid for all. Robinson
+had departed with trailing banners; the coaches
+and the whole college were happy; Paul was happy;
+Sydney was happy; he was happy himself. Certainly
+the bally shoulder--ouch!--hurt at times; but, then one
+can't have everything one wants. His meditations were
+interrupted by voices and footsteps outside the front
+door. He bolted the last morsel of bread and awaited
+the callers.</p>
+
+<p>These proved to be Paul and Sydney and--Neil stared--Tom Cowan.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Rah-rah-rah!&quot; shouted Paul, slamming the door.
+&quot;How are they coming, chum? Here's Burr and Cowan
+to make polite injuries after your inquiries--I mean
+inquiries--well, you know what I mean. Tom's been
+saying all sorts of nice things about your playing, and
+I think he'd like to shake hands with the foot that kicked
+that goal.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Neil laughed and put out his hand. Cowan, grinning,
+took it.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It was fine, Fletcher,&quot; he said with genuine
+enthusiasm. &quot;And, some way, I knew when I saw you
+drop back that you were going to put it over. I'd have
+bet a hundred dollars on it!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thunder, you were more confident than I was!&quot;
+Neil laughed. &quot;I wouldn't have bet more than thirty
+cents. Well, Board of Strategy, how did you like the
+game?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Sydney shook his head gravely.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I wouldn't care to go through it again,&quot; he answered.
+&quot;I had all kinds of heart disease before the
+first half was over, and after that I was in a sort of
+daze; didn't know really whether it was football or
+Friday-night lectures.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You ought to have been at table to-night, chum,&quot;
+said Paul. &quot;We made Rome howl. Mills made a
+speech, and so did Jones and 'Baldy,' and--oh, every
+one. It was fine!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And they cheered a fellow named Fletcher for
+nearly five minutes,&quot; added Sydney. &quot;And--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hear 'em!&quot; Cowan interrupted. From the direction
+of the yard came a long volley of cheers for Erskine.
+Dinner was over and the fellows were ready for the
+celebration; they were warming up.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Great times to-night,&quot; said Paul happily. &quot;I wish
+you were going out to the field with us, Neil.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Maybe I will.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If you try it I'll strap you down,&quot; replied Paul
+indignantly. &quot;By the way, Mills told me to announce
+his coming. He's terribly tickled, is Mills, although he
+doesn't say very much.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He's still wondering how you went stale before the
+game and then played the way you did,&quot; said Sydney.
+&quot;However, I didn't say anything.&quot; He caught himself
+up and glanced doubtfully toward Cowan. &quot;I don't
+know whether it's a secret?&quot; He appealed to Neil, who
+was frowning across at him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What's a secret?&quot; demanded Paul.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't mind me,&quot; said Cowan. &quot;It may be a secret,
+but I guessed it long ago, didn't I, Paul?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What in thunder are you all talking about?&quot; asked
+that youth, staring inquiringly from one to another.
+Sydney saw that he had touched on forbidden ground
+and now looked elaborately ignorant.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, nothing, Paul,&quot; answered Neil. &quot;When are
+you all going out to the field?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But there is something,&quot; his chum protested warmly.
+&quot;Now out with it. What is it, Cowan? What did you
+guess?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, about Fletcher going stale so that you could
+get into the game,&quot; answered Cowan, apparently ignorant
+of Neil's wrathful grimaces. &quot;I guessed right away.
+Why--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, shut up, won't you?&quot; Neil entreated. &quot;Don't
+mind them, Paul; they're crazy. Sydney, you're an ass,
+if you only knew it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But I thought he knew--&quot; began Sydney.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, I didn't know,&quot; said Paul, quietly, his eyes on
+Neil's averted face. &quot;I--I must have been blind. It's
+plain enough now, of course. If I had known I wouldn't
+have taken the place.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You're all a set of idiots,&quot; muttered Neil.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm sorry I said anything,&quot; said Sydney, genuinely
+distressed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm glad,&quot; said Paul. &quot;I'm such a selfish brute
+that I can't see half an inch before my nose. Chum,
+all I've got to say--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Shut up,&quot; cried Neil. &quot;Listen, fellows, they're
+marching across the common. Some one help me to the
+window. I want to see.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Paul strode to his side, and putting an arm under
+his shoulders lifted him to his feet. Sydney lowered
+the gas and the four crowded to the window. Across
+the common, a long dark column in the starlight,
+tramped all Erskine, and at the head marched the
+band.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Gee, what a crowd!&quot; muttered Cowan.</p>
+
+<p>The head of the procession passed through the gate
+and turned toward the house, and the band struck up
+'Neath the Elms of Old Erskine. Hundreds of voices
+joined in and the slow and stately song thundered up
+toward the star-sprinkled sky.</p>
+
+<p>Paul's arm was still around his room-mate; its clasp
+tightened a little.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Say, chum.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well?&quot; muttered Neil.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thanks.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, don't bother me,&quot; Neil grumbled. &quot;Let's get
+out of this; they're stopping.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Sydney had stolen, as noiselessly as one may on
+crutches, to the chandelier, and suddenly the gas flared
+up, sending a path of light across the street and revealing
+the three at the window. Neil, exclaiming and protesting,
+strove to draw back, but Paul held him fast. From
+the crowd outside came the deep and long-drawn <i>A-a-ay!</i>
+and grew and spread up the line.</p>
+
+<p>And then the cheering began.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr class="full" noshade>
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@@ -0,0 +1,7034 @@
+The Project Gutenberg eBook, Behind the Line, by Ralph Henry Barbour,
+Illustrated by C. M. Relyea
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: Behind the Line
+
+Author: Ralph Henry Barbour
+
+Release Date: September 30, 2004 [eBook #13556]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BEHIND THE LINE***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Juliet Sutherland, Charlie Kirschner, and the Project
+Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team
+
+
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
+ file which includes the original illustrations.
+ See 13556-h.htm or 13556-h.zip:
+ (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/3/5/5/13556/13556-h/13556-h.htm)
+ or
+ (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/3/5/5/13556/13556-h.zip)
+
+
+
+
+
+BEHIND THE LINE
+
+A Story of College Life and Football
+
+by
+RALPH HENRY BARBOUR
+Author of _The Half-Back_, _Captain of the Crew_, and _For the Honor
+of the School_
+
+Illustrated by C.M. Relyea
+
+1902
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: A critical moment]
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+TO
+MY MOTHER
+
+
+
+PREFATORY NOTE
+
+The Author takes pleasure in acknowledging his indebtedness to Mr. Lorin
+F. Deland, of Boston, for the football play described in Chapter XV.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+CHAPTER
+ I.--HEROES IN MOLESKIN
+ II.--PAUL CHANGES HIS MIND
+ III.--IN NEW QUARTERS
+ IV.--NEIL MAKES ACQUAINTANCES
+ V.--AND SHOWS HIS METTLE
+ VI.--MILLS, HEAD COACH
+ VII.--THE GENTLE ART OF HANDLING PUNTS
+ VIII.--THE KIDNAPING
+ IX.--THE BROKEN TRICYCLE
+ X.--NEIL MAKES THE VARSITY
+ XI.--THE RESULT OF A FUMBLE
+ XII.--ON THE HOSPITAL LIST
+ XIII.--SYDNEY STUDIES STRATEGY
+ XIV.--MAKES A CALL
+ XV.--AND TELLS OF A DREAM
+ XVI.--ROBINSON SENDS A PROTEST
+ XVII.--A PLAN AND A CONFESSION
+XVIII.--NEIL is TAKEN OUT
+ XIX.--ON THE EVE OF BATTLE
+ XX.--COWAN BECOMES INDIGNANT
+ XXI.--THE "ANTIDOTE" IS ADMINISTERED
+ XXII.--BETWEEN THE HALVES
+XXIII.--NEIL GOES IN
+ XXIV.--AFTER THE BATTLE
+
+
+
+
+LIST OF ILLUSTKATIONS
+
+A critical moment (frontispiece)
+
+Getting settled
+
+The vine swayed at every strain
+
+Hiding his face, he cried for help
+
+"I guess you've broken down," said Neil
+
+Mills studied the diagram in silence
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+HEROES IN MOLESKIN
+
+"Third down, four yards to gain!"
+
+The referee trotted out of the scrimmage line and blew his whistle; the
+Hillton quarter-back crouched again behind the big center; the other
+backs scurried to their places as though for a kick.
+
+"_9--6--12!_" called quarter huskily.
+
+"Get through!" shrieked the St. Eustace captain. "Block this kick!"
+
+"_4--8!_"
+
+The ball swept back to the full, the halves formed their interference,
+and the trio sped toward the right end of the line. For an instant the
+opposing ranks heaved and struggled; for an instant Hillton repelled the
+attack; then, like a shot, the St. Eustace left tackle hurtled through
+and, avoiding the interference, nailed the Hillton runner six yards back
+of the line. A square of the grand stand blossomed suddenly with blue,
+and St. Eustace's supporters, already hoarse with cheering and singing,
+once more broke into triumphant applause. The score-board announced
+fifteen minutes to play, and the ball went to the blue-clad warriors on
+Hillton's forty-yard line.
+
+Hillton and St. Eustace were once more battling for supremacy on the
+gridiron in their annual Thanksgiving Day contest. And, in spite of the
+fact that Hillton was on her own grounds, St. Eustace's star was in the
+ascendant, and defeat hovered dark and ominous over the Crimson. With
+the score 5 to in favor of the visitors, with her players battered and
+wearied, with the second half of the game already half over, Hillton,
+outweighted and outplayed, fought on with the doggedness born of despair
+in an almost hopeless struggle to avert impending defeat.
+
+In the first few minutes of the first half St. Eustace had battered her
+way down the field, throwing her heavy backs through the crimson line
+again and again, until she had placed the pigskin on Hillton's
+three-yard line. There the Hillton players had held stubbornly against
+two attempts to advance, but on the third down had fallen victims to a
+delayed pass, and St. Eustace had scored her only touch-down. The
+punt-out had failed, however, and the cheering flaunters of blue banners
+had perforce to be content with five points.
+
+Then it was that Hillton had surprised her opponents, for when the
+Blue's warriors had again sought to hammer and beat their way through
+the opposing line they found that Hillton had awakened from her daze,
+and their gains were small and infrequent. Four times ere the half was
+at an end St. Eustace was forced to kick, and thrice, having by the
+hardest work and almost inch by inch fought her way to within scoring
+distance of her opponent's goal, she met a defense that was impregnable
+to her most desperate assaults. Then it was that the Crimson had waved
+madly over the heads of Hillton's shrieking supporters and hope had
+again returned to their hearts.
+
+In the second half Hillton had secured the ball on the kick-off, and,
+never losing possession of it, had struggled foot by foot to within
+fifteen yards of the Blue's goal. From there a kick from placement had
+been tried, but Gale, Hillton's captain and right half-back, had been
+thrown before his foot had touched the leather, and the St. Eustace
+right-guard had fallen on the ball. A few minutes later a fumble
+returned the pigskin to Hillton on the Blue's thirty-three yards, and
+once more the advance was taken up. Thrice the distance had been gained
+by plunges into the line and short runs about the ends, and once
+Fletcher, Hillton's left half, had got away safely for twenty yards. But
+on her eight-yard line, under the shadow of her goal, St. Eustace had
+held bravely, and, securing the ball on downs, punted it far down the
+field into her opponent's territory. Fletcher had run it back ten yards
+ere he was downed, and from there it had gone six yards further by one
+superb hurdle by the full-back. But St. Eustace had then held finely,
+and on the third down, as has been told, Hillton's fake-kick play had
+been demolished by the Blue's tackle, and the ball was once more in the
+hands of St. Eustace's big center rush.
+
+On the side-line, his hands in his pockets and his short brier pipe
+clenched firmly between his teeth, Gardiner, Hillton's head coach,
+watched grimly the tide of battle. Things had gone worse than he had
+anticipated. He had not hoped for too much--a tie would have satisfied
+him; a victory for Hillton had been beyond his expectations. St. Eustace
+far outweighed his team; her center was almost invulnerable and her back
+field was fast and heavy. But, despite the modesty of his expectations,
+Gardiner was disappointed. The plays that he had believed would prove to
+be ground-gainers had failed almost invariably. Neil Fletcher, the left
+half, on whom the head coach had placed the greatest reliance, had, with
+a single exception, failed to circle the ends for any distance. To be
+sure, the St. Eustace end rushes had proved more knowing than he had
+given them credit for being, and so the fault was, after all, not with
+Fletcher; but it was disappointing nevertheless.
+
+And, as is invariably the case, he saw where he had made mistakes in the
+handling of his team; realized, now that it was too late, that he had
+given too much attention to that thing, too little to this; that, as
+things had turned out, certain plays discarded a week before would have
+proved of more value than those substituted. He sighed, and moved down
+the line to keep abreast of the teams, now five yards nearer the
+Hillton goal.
+
+"Crozier must come out in a moment," said a voice beside him. He turned
+to find Professor Beck, the trainer and physical director. "What a game
+he has put up, eh?"
+
+Gardiner nodded.
+
+"Best quarter in years," he answered. "It'll weaken us considerably, but
+I suppose it's necessary." There was a note of interrogation in the
+last, and the professor heard it.
+
+"Yes, yes, quite," he replied. "The boy's on his last legs." Gardiner
+turned to the line of substitutes behind them.
+
+"Decker!"
+
+The call was taken up by those nearest at hand, and the next instant a
+short, stockily-built youth was peeling off his crimson sweater. The
+referee's whistle blew, and while the mound of squirming players found
+their feet again, Gardiner walked toward them, his hand on
+Decker's shoulder.
+
+"Play slow and steady your team, Decker," he counseled. "Use Young and
+Fletcher for runs; try them outside of tackle, especially on the right.
+Give Gale a chance to hit the line now and then and diversify your plays
+well. And, my boy, if you get that ball again, and of course you will,
+_don't let it go_! Give up your twenty yards if necessary, only hang on
+to the leather!"
+
+Then he thumped him encouragingly on the back and sped him forward.
+Crozier, the deposed quarter-back, was being led off by Professor Beck.
+The boy was pale of face and trembling with weariness, and one foot
+dragged itself after the other limply. But he was protesting with tears
+in his eyes against being laid off, and even the hearty cheers for him
+that thundered from the stand did not comfort him. Then the game went
+on, the tide of battle flowing slowly, steadily, toward the
+Crimson's goal.
+
+"If only they don't score again!" said Gardiner.
+
+"That's the best we can hope for," said Professor Beck.
+
+"Yes; it's turned out worse than I expected."
+
+"Well, you can comfort yourself with the knowledge that they've played
+as plucky a game against odds as I ever expect to see," answered the
+other. "And we won't say die yet; there's still"--he looked at his
+watch--there's still eight minutes."
+
+"That's good; I hope Decker will remember what I told him about runs
+outside right tackle," muttered Gardiner anxiously. Then he relighted
+his pipe and, with stolid face, watched events.
+
+St. Eustace was still hammering Hillton's line at the wings. Time and
+again the Blue's big full-back plunged through between guard and
+tackle, now on this side, now on that, and Hillton's line ever gave back
+and back, slowly, stubbornly, but surely.
+
+"First down," cried the referee. "Five yards to gain."
+
+The pigskin now lay just midway between Hillton's ten-and fifteen-yard
+lines. Decker, the substitute quarter-back, danced about under the
+goal-posts.
+
+"Now get through and break it up, fellows!" he shouted. "Get through!
+Get through!"
+
+But the crimson-clad line men were powerless to withstand the terrific
+plunges of the foe, and back once more they went, and yet again, and the
+ball was on the six-yard line, placed there by two plunges at
+right tackle.
+
+"First down!" cried the referee again.
+
+Then Hillton's cup of sorrow seemed overflowing. For on the next play
+the umpire's whistle shrilled, and half the distance to the goal-line
+was paced off. Hillton was penalized for holding, and the ball was on
+her three yards!
+
+From the section of the grand stand where the crimson flags waved came
+steady, entreating, the wailing slogan:
+
+"_Hold, Hillton! Hold, Hillton! Hold, Hillton!_"
+
+Near at hand, on the side-line, Gardiner ground his teeth on the stem of
+his pipe and watched with expressionless face. Professor Beck, at his
+side, frowned anxiously.
+
+"Put it over, now!" cried the St. Eustace captain. "Tear them up,
+fellows!"
+
+The quarter gave the signal, the two lines smashed together, and the
+whistle sounded. The ball had advanced less than a yard. The Hillton
+stand cheered hoarsely, madly.
+
+"Line up! Line up!" cried the Blue's quarter. "Signal!"
+
+Then it was that St. Eustace made her fatal mistake. With the memory of
+the delayed pass which had won St. Eustace her previous touch-down in
+mind, the Hillton quarter-back was on the watch.
+
+The ball went back, was lost to view, the lines heaved and strained.
+Decker shot to the left, and as he reached the end of the line the St.
+Eustace left half-back came plunging out of the throng, the ball
+snuggled against his stomach. Decker, just how he never knew, squirmed
+past the single interferer, and tackled the runner firmly about the
+hips. The two went down together on the seven yards, the blue-stockinged
+youth vainly striving to squirm nearer to the line, Decker holding for
+all he was worth. Then the Hillton left end sat down suddenly on the
+runner's head and the whistle blew.
+
+The grand stand was in an uproar, and cheers for Hillton filled the air.
+Gardiner turned away calmly and knocked the ashes from his pipe.
+Professor Beck beamed through his gold-rimmed glasses. Decker picked
+himself up and sped back to his position.
+
+"_Signal_!" he cried. But a St. Eustace player called for time and the
+whistle piped again.
+
+"If Decker tries a kick from there it'll be blocked, and they'll score
+again," said Gardiner. "Our line can't hold. There's just one thing to
+do, but I fear Decker won't think of it." He caught Gale's eye and
+signaled the captain to the side-line.
+
+"What is it?" panted that youth, taking the nose-guard from his mouth
+and tenderly nursing a swollen lip. Gardiner hesitated. Then--
+
+"Nothing. Only fight it out, Gale. You've got your chance now!" Gale
+nodded and trotted back. Gardiner smiled ruefully. "The rule against
+coaching from the side-lines may be a good one," he muttered, "but I
+guess it's lost this game for us."
+
+The whistle sounded and the lines formed again.
+
+"First down," cried the referee, jumping nimbly out of the way. Decker
+had been in conference with the full-back, and now he sprang back to
+his place.
+
+"Signal!" he cried. "_14--7--31_!"
+
+The Hillton full stood just inside the goal-line and stretched his hands
+out.
+
+"_16--8_!"
+
+The center passed the pigskin straight and true to the full-back, but
+the latter, instead of kicking it, stood as though bewildered while the
+St. Eustace forwards plunged through the Hillton line as though it had
+been of paper. The next moment he was thrown behind his goal-line with
+the ball safe in his arms, and Gardiner, on the side-line, was smiling
+contentedly.
+
+"Touch-back," cried Decker. "Line up on the twenty yards, fellows!"
+
+Hillton's ruse had won her a free kick, and in another moment the ball
+was arching toward the St. Eustace goal. The Blue's left half secured
+it, but was downed on his forty yards. The first attack netted four
+yards through Hillton's left-guard, and the crimson flags drooped on
+their staffs. On the next play St. Eustace's full-back hurdled the line
+for two yards, but lost the pigskin, and amid frantic cries of "Ball!
+Ball!" Fletcher, Hillton's left half, dropped upon it. The crimson
+banners waved again, and Hillton voices once more took up the refrain of
+Hilltonians, while hope surged back into loyal hearts.
+
+"Five minutes to play," said Professor Beck. Gardiner nodded.
+
+"Time enough to win in," he answered.
+
+Decker crouched again, chanted his signal, and the Hillton full plunged
+at the blue-clad line. But only a yard resulted.
+
+"_Signal_!" cried the quarter. "_8--51--16--5_!"
+
+The ball came back into his waiting hands, was thrown at a short pass
+to the left half, and, with right half showing the way and full-back
+charging along beside, Fletcher cleared the line through a wide gap
+outside of St. Eustace's right tackle and sped down the field while the
+Hillton supporters leaped to their feet and shrieked wildly. The
+full-back met the St. Eustace right half, and the two were left behind
+on the turf. Beside Fletcher, a little in advance, ran the Hillton
+captain and right half-back, Paul Gale. Between them and the goal, now
+forty yards away, only the St. Eustace quarter remained, but behind them
+came pounding footsteps that sounded dangerous.
+
+Gardiner, followed by the professor and a little army of privileged
+spectators, raced along the line.
+
+"He'll make it," muttered the head coach. "They can't stop him!"
+
+One line after another went under the feet of the two players. The
+pursuit was falling behind. Twenty yards remained to be covered. Then
+the waiting quarter-back, white-faced and desperate, was upon them. But
+Gale was equal to the emergency.
+
+"To the left!" he panted.
+
+Fletcher obeyed with weary limbs and leaden feet, and without looking
+knew that he was safe. Gale and the St. Eustace player went down
+together, and in another moment Fletcher was lying, faint but happy,
+over the line and back of the goal!
+
+The stands emptied themselves on the instant of their triumphant burden
+of shouting, cheering, singing Hilltonians, and the crimson banners
+waved and fluttered on to the field. Hillton had escaped defeat!
+
+But Fortune, now that she had turned her face toward the wearers of the
+Crimson, had further gifts to bestow. And presently, when the wearied
+and crestfallen opponents had lined themselves along the goal-line,
+Decker held the ball amid a breathless silence, and Hillton's right end
+sent it fair and true between the uprights: Hillton, 6; Opponents, 5.
+
+The game, so far as scoring went, ended there. Four minutes later the
+whistle shrilled for the last time, and the horde of frantic Hilltonians
+flooded the field and, led by the band, bore their heroes in triumph
+back to the school. And, side by side, at the head of the procession,
+perched on the shoulders of cheering friends, swayed the two half-backs,
+Neil Fletcher and Paul Gale.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+PAUL CHANGES HIS MIND
+
+Two boys were sitting in the first-floor corner study in Haewood's.
+Those who know the town of Hillton, New York, will remember Haewood's as
+the large residence at the corner of Center and Village Streets, from
+the big bow-window of which the occupant of the cushioned seat may look
+to the four points of the compass or watch for occasional signs of life
+about the court-house diagonally across. To-night--the bell in the tower
+of the town hall had just struck half after seven--the occupants of the
+corner study were interested in things other than the view.
+
+I have said that they were sitting. Lounging would be nearer the truth;
+for one, a boy of eighteen years, with merry blue eyes and cheeks
+flushed ruddily with health and the afterglow of the day's excitement,
+with hair just the color of raw silk that took on a glint of gold where
+the light fell upon it, was perched cross-legged amid the cushions at
+one end of the big couch, two strong, tanned, and much-scarred hands
+clasping his knees. His companion and his junior by but two months, a
+dark-complexioned youth with black hair and eyes and a careless,
+good-natured, but rather wilful face, on which at the present moment the
+most noticeable feature was a badly cut and much swollen lower lip, lay
+sprawled at the other end of the couch, his chin buried in one palm.
+
+Both lads were well built, broad of chest, and long of limb, with
+bright, clear eyes, and a warmth of color that betokened the best of
+physical condition. They had been friends and room-mates for two years.
+This was their last year at Hillton, and next fall they were to begin
+their college life together. The dark-complexioned youth rolled lazily
+on to his back and stared at the ceiling. Then--
+
+"I suppose Crozier will get the captaincy, Neil."
+
+The boy with light hair nodded without removing his gaze from the little
+flames that danced in the fireplace. They had discussed the day's
+happenings thoroughly, had relived the game with St. Eustace from start
+to finish, and now the big Thanksgiving dinner which they had eaten was
+beginning to work upon them a spell of dormancy. It was awfully jolly,
+thought Neil Fletcher, to just lie there and watch the flames
+and--and--He sighed comfortably and closed his eyes. At eight o'clock
+he, with the rest of the victorious team, was to be drawn about the town
+in a barge and cheered at, but meanwhile there was time to just close
+his eyes--and forget--everything--
+
+There was a knock at the study door.
+
+"Go 'way!" grunted Neil.
+
+"Oh, come in," called Paul Gale, without, however, removing his drowsy
+gaze from the ceiling or changing his position.
+
+"I beg your pardon. I am looking for Mr. Gale, and--"
+
+Paul dropped his legs over the side of the couch and sat up, blinking at
+the visitor. Neil followed his example. The caller was a carefully
+dressed man of about thirty-five, scarcely taller than Neil, but broader
+of shoulder. Paul recognized him, and, rising, shook hands.
+
+"How do you do, Mr. Brill? Glad to see you. Sit down, won't you? I guess
+we were both pretty nigh asleep when you knocked."
+
+"Small wonder," responded the visitor affably. "After the work you did
+this afternoon you deserve sleep, and anything else you want." He laid
+aside his coat and hat and sank into the chair which Paul proffered.
+
+"By the way," continued the latter, "I don't think you've met my friend,
+Neil Fletcher. Neil, this is Mr. Brill, of Robinson; one of their
+coaches." The two shook hands.
+
+"I'm delighted to meet the hero--I should say one of the heroes--of the
+day," said Mr. Brill. "That run was splendid; the way in which you two
+fellows got your speed up before you reached the line was worth coming
+over here to see, really it was."
+
+"Yes, Paul set a pretty good pace," answered Neil.
+
+The visitor discussed the day's contest for a few minutes, during which
+Neil glanced uneasily from time to time at the clock, wondered what the
+visitor wanted there, and heartily wished he'd take himself off. But
+presently Mr. Brill got down to business.
+
+"You know we've had a little victory in football ourselves this fall,"
+he was saying. "We won from Erskine by 17 to 6 last week, and we're
+feeling rather stuck up over it."
+
+"Wait till next year," said Neil to himself, "and you'll get over it."
+
+"And that," continued the coach, "brings me to the object of my call
+tonight. Frankly, we want you two fellows at Robinson College, and I'm
+here to see if we can't have you." He paused and smiled engagingly at
+the boys. Neil glanced surprisedly at Paul, who was thoughtfully
+examining the scars on his knuckles. "Don't decide until I've explained
+matters more clearly," went on the visitor. "Perhaps neither of you have
+been to Collegetown, but at least you know about where Robinson stands
+in the athletic world, and you know that as an institution of learning
+it is in the front rank of the smaller colleges; in fact, in certain
+lines it might dispute the place of honor with some of the big ones.
+
+"To the fellow who wants a college where he can learn and where, at the
+same time, he can give some attention to athletics, Robinson's bound to
+recommend itself. I mention this because you know as well as I do that
+there are colleges--I mention no names--where a born football player,
+such as either of you, would simply be lost; where he would be tied down
+by such stringent rules that he could never amount to anything on the
+gridiron. I don't mean to say that at Robinson the faculty is lax
+regarding standing or attendance at lectures, but I do say that it holds
+common-sense views on the subject of college athletics, and does not
+hound a man to death simply because he happens to belong to the football
+eleven or the crew.
+
+"Robinson is always on the lookout for first-class football, baseball,
+or rowing material, and she believes in offering encouragement to such
+material. She doesn't favor underhand methods, you understand; no hiring
+of players, no free scholarships--though there are plenty of them for
+those who will work for them--none of that sort of thing. But she is
+willing to meet you half-way. The proposition which I am authorized to
+make is briefly this"--the speaker leaned forward, smiling frankly, and
+tapped a forefinger on the palm of his other hand--"If you, Mr. Gale,
+and you, Mr. Fletcher, will enter Robinson next September, the--ah--the
+athletic authorities will guarantee you positions on the varsity eleven.
+Besides this, you will be given free tutoring for the entrance exams,
+and afterward, so long as you remain on the team, in any studies with
+which you may have difficulty. Now, there is a fair, honest proposition,
+and one which I sincerely trust you will accept. We want you both, and
+we're willing to do all that we can--in honesty, that is--to get you.
+Now, what do you say?"
+
+During this recital Neil's dislike of the speaker had steadily
+increased, and now, under the other's smiling regard, he had difficulty
+in keeping from his face some show of his emotions. Paul looked up from
+his scarred knuckles and eyed Neil furtively before he turned to
+the coach.
+
+"Of course," he said, "this is rather unexpected."
+
+The coach's eyes flickered for an instant with amusement.
+
+"For my part," Neil broke in almost angrily, "I'm due in September at
+Erskine, and unless Paul's changed his mind since yesterday so's he."
+
+The Robinson coach raised his eyebrows in simulated surprise.
+
+"Ah," he said slowly, "Erskine?"
+
+"Yes, Erskine," answered Neil rather discourteously. A faint flush of
+displeasure crept into Mr. Brill's cheeks, but he smiled as
+pleasantly as ever.
+
+"And your friend has contemplated ruining his football career in the
+same manner, has he?" he asked politely, turning his gaze as he spoke
+on Paul. The latter fidgeted in his chair and looked over a trifle
+defiantly at his room-mate.
+
+"I had thought of going to Erskine," he answered. "In fact"--observing
+Neil's wide-eyed surprise at his choice of words--"in fact, I had
+arranged to do so. But--but, of course, nothing has been settled
+definitely."
+
+"But, Paul--" exclaimed Neil.
+
+"Well, I'm glad to hear that," interrupted Mr. Brill. "For in my opinion
+it would simply be a waste of your opportunities and--ah--abilities,
+Mr. Gale."
+
+"Well, of course, if a fellow doesn't have to bother too much about
+studies," said Paul haltingly, "he can do better work on the team; there
+can't be any question about that, I guess."
+
+"None at all," responded the coach.
+
+Neil stared at his chum indignantly.
+
+"You're talking rot," he growled. Paul flushed and returned his look
+angrily.
+
+"I suppose I have the right to manage my own affairs?" he demanded. Neil
+realized his mistake and, with an effort, held his peace. Mr. Brill
+turned to him.
+
+"I fear there's no use in attempting to persuade you to come to us
+also?" he said. Neil shook his head silently. Then, realizing that Paul
+was quite capable, in his present fit of stubbornness, of promising to
+enter Robinson if only to spite his room-mate, Neil used guile.
+
+"Anyhow, September's a long way off," he said, "and I don't see that
+it's necessary to decide to-night. Perhaps we had both better take a day
+or two to think it over. I guess Mr. Brill won't insist on a final
+answer to-night."
+
+The Robinson coach hesitated, but then answered readily enough:
+
+"Certainly not. Think it over; only, if possible, let me hear your
+decision to-morrow, as I am leaving town then."
+
+"Well, as far as I'm concerned," said Paul, "I don't see any use in
+putting it off. I'm willing--"
+
+Neil jumped to his feet. A burst of martial music swept up to them as
+the school band, followed by a host of their fellows, turned the corner
+of the building.
+
+"Come on, Paul," he cried; "get your coat on. Mr. Brill will excuse us
+if we leave him; we mustn't keep the fellows waiting. And we can think
+the matter over, eh, Paul? And we'll let him know in the morning. Here's
+your coat. Good-night, sir, good-night." He was holding the door open
+and smiling politely. Paul, scowling, arose and shook hands with the
+Robinson emissary. Neil kept up a steady stream of talk, and his chum
+could only mutter vague words about his pleasure at Mr. Brill's call and
+about seeing him to-morrow. When the door had closed behind him the
+coach stood a moment in the hall and thoughtfully buttoned his coat.
+
+"I think I've got Gale all right," he said to himself, "but"--with a
+slight smile--"the other chap was too smart for me. And, confound him,
+he's just the sort we need!"
+
+When he reached the entrance he was obliged to elbow his way through a
+solid throng of shouting youths who with excited faces and waving caps
+and flags informed the starlight winter sky over and over that they
+wanted Gale and Fletcher, to which demand the band lent hearty if rather
+discordant emphasis.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+A good deal happened in the next two hours, but nothing that is
+pertinent to this narrative. Victorious Hillton elevens have been hauled
+through the village and out to the field many times in past years, and
+bonfires have flared and speeches have been made by players and faculty,
+and all very much as happened on this occasion. Neil and Paul returned
+to their room at ten o'clock, tired, happy, with the cheers and the
+songs still echoing in their ears.
+
+Paul had apparently forgotten his resentment toward Neil and the whole
+matter of Brill's proposition. But Neil hadn't, and presently, when they
+were preparing for bed, he returned doggedly to the charge.
+
+"When did you meet that fellow Brill?" he asked.
+
+"In Gardiner's room this morning; he introduced us." Paul began to look
+sulky again. "Seems a decent sort, I think," he added defiantly. Neil
+accepted the challenge.
+
+"I dare say," he answered carelessly. "There's only one thing I've got
+against him."
+
+"What's that?" questioned Paul suspiciously.
+
+"His errand."
+
+"What's wrong with his errand?"
+
+"Everything, Paul. You know as well as I that his offer is--well, it's
+shady, to say the least. Who ever heard of a decent college offering
+free tutoring in order to get fellows for its football team?"
+
+"Lots of them do," growled Paul.
+
+"No, they don't; not decent ones. Some do, I know; but they're not
+colleges a fellow cares to go to. Every one knows what rotten shape
+Robinson athletics are in; the papers have been full of it for two
+years. Their center rush this fall, Harden, just went there to play on
+the team, and everybody says that he got his tuition free. You don't
+want to play on a team like that and have people say things like that
+about you. I'm sure I don't."
+
+"Oh, you!" sneered Paul. "You're getting crankier and crankier every
+day. I'll bet you're just huffy because Brill didn't ask you first."
+
+Neil flushed, but kept his temper.
+
+"You don't think anything of the sort, Paul. Besides--"
+
+"It looks that way," muttered Paul.
+
+"Besides," continued Neil calmly, "what's the advantage in going to
+Robinson? We've arranged everything; we've got our rooms picked out at
+Erskine; there are lots of fellows there we know; the college is the
+best of its class and its athletics are honest. If you play on the
+Erskine team you'll be somebody, and folks won't hint that you're
+receiving money or free scholarships or something for doing it. And as
+for Brill's guarantee of a place on the team, why, there's only one
+decent way to get on a football team, and that's by good, hard work; and
+there's no reason for doubting that you'll make the Erskine
+varsity eleven."
+
+"Yes, there is, too," answered Paul angrily. "They've got lots of good
+players at Erskine, and you and I won't stand any better show than a
+dozen others."
+
+"I don't want to."
+
+"Huh! Well, I do; that is, I want to make the team. Besides, as Brill
+said, if a fellow has the faculty after him all the time about studies
+he can't do decent work on the team. I don't see anything wrong in it,
+and--and I'm going. I'll tell Brill so to-morrow!"
+
+Neil drew his bath-robe about him, and looked thoughtfully into the
+flames. So far he had lost, but he had one more card to play. He turned
+and faced Paul's angry countenance.
+
+"Well, if I should go to Robinson and play on her team under the
+conditions offered by that--by Brill I'd feel disgraced."
+
+"You'd better stay away, then," answered Paul hotly.
+
+"I wouldn't want to show my face around Hillton afterward, and if I met
+Gardiner or 'Wheels' I'd take the other side of the street."
+
+"Oh, you would?" cried his room-mate. "You're trying to make yourself
+out a little fluffy angel, aren't you? And I suppose I'm not good enough
+to associate with you, am I? Well, if that's it, all I've got to say--"
+
+"But," continued Neil equably, "if you accept Brill's offer, so will I."
+
+Paul paused open-mouthed and stared at his chum. Then his eyes dropped
+and he busied himself with a stubborn stocking. Finally, with a muttered
+"Humph!" he gathered up his clothing and disappeared into the bedroom.
+Neil turned and smiled at the flames and, finding his own apparel,
+followed. Nothing more was said. Paul splashed the water about even more
+than usual and tumbled silently into bed. Neil put out the study light
+and followed suit.
+
+"Good-night," he said.
+
+"Good-night," growled Paul.
+
+It had been a hard day and an exciting one, and Neil went to sleep
+almost as soon as his head touched the pillow. It seemed hours later,
+though in reality but some twenty minutes, that he was awakened by
+hearing his name called. He sat up quickly.
+
+"Hello! What?" he shouted.
+
+"Shut up," answered Paul from across in the darkness. "I didn't know you
+were asleep. I only wanted to say--to tell you--that--that I've decided
+not to go to Robinson!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+IN NEW QUARTERS
+
+Almost every one has heard of Erskine College. For the benefit of the
+few who have not, and lest they confound it with Williams or Dartmouth
+or Bowdoin or some other of its New England neighbors, it may be well to
+tell something about it. Erskine College is still in its infancy, as New
+England universities go, with its centennial yet eight years distant.
+But it has its own share of historic associations, and although the big
+elm in the center of the campus was not planted until 1812 it has shaded
+many youths who in later years have by good deeds and great
+accomplishments endeared themselves to country and alma mater.
+
+In the middle of the last century, when Erskine was little more than an
+academy, it was often called "the little green school at Centerport." It
+is not so little now, but it's greener than ever. Wide-spreading elms
+grow everywhere; in serried ranks within the college grounds, in smaller
+detachments throughout the village, in picket lines along the river and
+out into the country. The grass grows lush wherever it can gain hold,
+and, not content with having its own way on green and campus, is forever
+attempting the conquest of path and road. The warm red bricks of the
+college buildings are well-nigh hidden by ivy, which, too, is an ardent
+expansionist. And where neither grass nor ivy can subjugate, soft,
+velvety moss reigns humbly.
+
+In the year 1901, which is the period of this story, the enrolment in
+all departments at Erskine was close to six hundred students. The
+freshman class, as had been the case for many years past, was the
+largest in the history of the college. It numbered 180; but of this
+number we are at present chiefly interested in only two; and these two,
+at the moment when this chapter begins--which, to be exact, is eight
+o'clock of the evening of the twenty-fourth day of September in the year
+above mentioned--were busily at work in a first-floor study in the
+boarding-house of Mrs. Curtis on Elm Street.
+
+It were perhaps more truthful to say that one was busily at work and the
+other was busily advising and directing. Neil Fletcher stood on a small
+table, which swayed perilously from side to side at his every movement,
+and drove nails into an already much mutilated wall. Paul Gale sat in a
+hospitable armchair upholstered in a good imitation of green leather and
+nodded approval.
+
+"That'll do for 'Old Abe'; now hang The First Snow a bit to the left and
+underneath."
+
+"The First Snow hasn't any wire on it," complained Neil. "See if you
+can't find some."
+
+"Wire's all gone," answered Paul. "We'll have to get some more. Where's
+that list? Oh, here it is. 'Item, picture wire.' I say, what in
+thunder's this you've got down--'Ring for waistband'?"
+
+"Rug for wash-stand, you idiot! I guess we'll have to quit until we get
+some more wire, eh? Or we might hang a few of them with boot-laces and
+neckties?"
+
+"Oh, let's call it off. I'm tired," answered Paul with a grin. "The room
+begins to look rather decent, doesn't it? We must change that couch,
+though; put it the other way so the ravelings won't show. And that
+picture of--"
+
+But just here Neil attempted to step from the table and landed in a heap
+on the floor, and Paul forgot criticism in joyful applause.
+
+"Oh, noble work! Do it again, old man; I didn't see the take-off!"
+
+But Neil refused, and plumping himself into a wicker rocking-chair that
+creaked complainingly, rubbed the dust from his hands to his trousers
+and looked about the study approvingly.
+
+"We're going to be jolly comfy here, Paul," he said. "Mrs. Curtis is
+going to get a new globe for that fixture over there."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"Then we will be," said Paul. "And if she would only find us a
+towel-rack that didn't fall into twelve separate pieces like a Chinese
+puzzle every time a chap put a towel on it we'd be simply reveling
+in luxury."
+
+"I think I can fix that thing with string," answered Neil. "Or we might
+buy one of those nickel-plated affairs that you screw into the wall."
+
+"The sort that always dump the towels on to the floor, you mean? Yes, we
+might. Of course, they're of no practical value judged as towel-racks,
+but they're terribly ornamental. You know we had one in the bath-room at
+the beach. Remember? When you got through your bath and groped round for
+the towel it was always lying on the floor just out of reach."
+
+"Yes, I remember," answered Neil, smiling. "We had rather a good time,
+didn't we, at Seabright? It was awfully nice of you to ask me down
+there, Paul; and your folks were mighty good to me. Next summer I want
+you to come up to New Hampshire and see us for a while. Of course, we
+can't give you sea bathing, and you won't look like a red Indian when
+you go home, but we could have a good time just the same."
+
+"Red Indian yourself!" cried Paul. "You're nearly twice as tanned as I
+am. I don't see how you did it. I was there pretty near all summer and
+you stayed just three weeks; and look at us! I'm as white as a sheet
+of paper--"
+
+"Yes, brown paper," interpolated Neil.
+
+"And you have a complexion like a--a football after a hard game."
+
+Neil grinned, then--
+
+"By the way," he said, "did I tell you I'd heard from Crozier?"
+
+"About Billy and the ducks? And Gordon's not going back to Hillton? Yes,
+you got that at the beach; remember?"
+
+"So I did. 'Old Cro' will be up to his ears in trouble pretty soon,
+won't he? I'm glad they made him captain, awfully glad. I think he can
+turn out a team that'll rub it into St. Eustace again just as you did
+last year."
+
+"Yes; and Gardiner's going to coach again." Paul smiled reminiscently.
+Then, "By Jove, it does seem funny not to be going back to old Hillton,
+doesn't it? I suppose after a while a fellow'll get to feeling at home
+here, but just at present--" He sighed and shook his head.
+
+"Wait until college opens to-morrow and we get to work; we won't have
+much time to feel much of anything, I guess. Practise is called for four
+o'clock. I wonder--I wonder if we'll make the team?"
+
+"Why not?" objected Paul. "If I thought I wouldn't I think I'd pitch it
+all up and--and go to Robinson!" He grinned across at his chum.
+
+"You stay here and you'll get a chance to go _at_ Robinson; that's a
+heap more satisfactory."
+
+"Well, I'm going to make the varsity, Neil. I've set my heart on that,
+and what I make up my mind to do I sometimes most always generally do.
+I'm not troubling, my boy; I'll show them a few tricks about playing
+half-back that'll open their eyes. You wait and see!"
+
+Neil looked as though he was not quite certain as to that, but said
+nothing, and Paul went on:
+
+"I wonder what sort of a fellow this Devoe is?"
+
+"Well, I've never seen him, but we know that he's about as good an end
+as there is in college to-day; and I guess he's bound to be the right
+sort or they wouldn't have made him captain."
+
+"He's a senior, isn't he?"
+
+"Yes; he's played only two years, and they say he's going into the Yale
+Law School next year. If he does, of course he'll get on the team there.
+Well, I hope he'll take pity on two ambitious but unprotected
+freshmen and--"
+
+There was a knock at the study door and Paul jumped forward and threw it
+open. A tall youth of twenty-one or twenty-two years of age stood in
+the doorway.
+
+"I'm looking for Mr. Gale and Mr. Fletcher. Have I hit it right?"
+
+"I'm Gale," answered Paul, "and that's Fletcher. Won't you come in?" The
+visitor entered.
+
+"My name's Devoe," he explained smilingly. "I'm captain of the football
+team this year, and as you two fellows are, of course, going to try for
+the team, I thought we'd better get acquainted." He accepted the squeaky
+rocking-chair and allowed Paul to take his straw hat. Neil thought he'd
+ought to shake hands, but as Devoe made no move in that direction he
+retired to another seat and grinned hospitably instead.
+
+"I've heard of the good work you chaps did for Hillton last year, and I
+was mighty glad when I learned from Gardiner that you were coming
+up here."
+
+"You know Gardiner?" asked Neil.
+
+"No, I've never met him, but of course every football man knows who he
+is. He wrote to me in the spring that you were coming, and rather
+intimated that if I knew my business I'd keep an eye on you and see that
+you didn't get lost in the shuffle. So here I am."
+
+"He didn't say anything about having written," pondered Neil.
+
+"Oh, he wouldn't," answered Devoe. "Well, how do you like us as far as
+you've seen us?"
+
+"We only got here yesterday," replied Paul. "I think it looks like
+rather a jolly sort of place; awfully pretty, you know,
+and--er--historic."
+
+"Yes, it is pretty; historic too; and it's the finest young college in
+the country, bar none," answered Devoe. "You'll like it when you get
+used to it. I like it so well I wish I wasn't going to leave it in the
+spring. Very cozy quarters you have here." He looked about the study.
+
+"They'll do," answered Neil modestly. "Of course we couldn't get rooms
+in the Yard, and we liked this as well as anything we saw outside. The
+view's rather good from the windows."
+
+"Yes, I know; you have the common and pretty much the whole college in
+sight; it is good." Devoe brought his gaze back and fixed it on Neil.
+"You played left half, didn't you?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"What's your weight?"
+
+"I haven't weighed this summer," answered Neil. "In the spring I was a
+hundred and sixty-two."
+
+"Good. We need some heavy backs. How about you, Gale?"
+
+"About a hundred and sixty."
+
+"Of course I haven't seen the new material yet," continued Devoe, "but
+the last year's men we have are a bit light, take them all around.
+That's what beat us, you see; Robinson had an unusually heavy line and
+rather heavy backs. They plowed through us without trouble."
+
+Neil studied the football captain with some interest. He saw a tall and
+fairly heavy youth, with well-set head and broad shoulders. He looked
+quite as fast on his feet as rumor credited him with being, and his dark
+eyes, sharp and steady in their regard, suggested both courage and
+ability to lead. His other features were strong, the nose a trifle
+heavy, the mouth usually unsmiling, the chin determined, and the
+forehead, set off by carefully brushed dark-brown hair, high and broad.
+After the first few moments of conversation Devoe devoted his attention
+principally to Neil, questioning him regarding Gardiner's coaching
+methods, about Neil's experience on the gridiron, as to what studies he
+was taking up. Occasionally he included Paul in the conversation, but
+that youth discovered, with surprise and chagrin, that he was apparently
+of much less interest to Devoe than was Neil. After a while he dropped
+out of the talk altogether, save when directly appealed to, and sat
+silent with an expression of elaborate unconcern. At the end of half an
+hour Devoe arose.
+
+"I must be getting on," he announced. "I'm glad we've had this talk, and
+I hope you'll both come over some evening and call on me; I'm in Morris,
+No. 8. We've got our work cut out this fall, and I hope we'll all pull
+together." He smiled across at Paul, evidently unaware of having
+neglected that young gentleman in his conversation. "Good-night. Four
+o'clock to-morrow is the hour."
+
+"I never met any one that could ask more questions than he can,"
+exclaimed Neil when Devoe was safely out of hearing. "But I suppose
+that's the way to learn, eh?"
+
+Paul yawned loudly and shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"Funny he should have come just when we were talking about him, wasn't
+it?" Neil pursued. "What do you think of him?"
+
+"Well, if you ask me," Paul answered, "I think he's a conceited,
+stuck-up prig!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+NEIL MAKES ACQUAINTANCES
+
+Neil's and Paul's college life began early the next morning when,
+sitting side by side in the dim, hushed chapel, they heard white-haired
+Dr. Garrison ask for them divine aid and guidance. Splashes and flecks
+of purple and rose and golden light rested here and there on bowed head
+and shoulders or lay in shafts across the aisles. From where he sat Neil
+could look through an open window out into the morning world of greenery
+and sunlight. On the swaying branch of an elm that almost brushed the
+casement a thrush sang sweet and clear a matin of his own. Neil made
+several good resolutions that morning there in the chapel, some of which
+he profited by, all of which he sincerely meant. And even Paul, far less
+impressionable than his friend, looked uncommonly thoughtful all the way
+back to their room, a way that led through the elm-arched nave of
+College Place and across the common with its broad expanses of
+sun-flecked sward and its simple granite shaft commemorating the heroes
+of the civil war.
+
+At nine o'clock, with the sound of the pealing bell again in their ears,
+with their books under their arms and their hearts beating a little
+faster than usual with pleasurable excitement, they retraced their path
+and mounted the well-worn granite steps of College Hall for their first
+recitation. What with the novelty of it all the day passed quickly
+enough, and four o'clock found the two lads dressed in football togs and
+awaiting the beginning of practise.
+
+There were some sixty candidates in sight, boys--some of them men as far
+as years go--of all sizes and ages, several at the first glance
+revealing the hopelessness of their ambitions. The names were taken and
+fall practise at Erskine began.
+
+The candidates were placed on opposite sides of the gridiron, and half a
+dozen footballs were produced. Punting and catching punts was the order
+of the day, and Neil was soon busily at work. The afternoon was warm,
+but not uncomfortably so, the turf was springy underfoot, the sky was
+blue from edge to edge, the new men supplied plenty of amusement in
+their efforts, the pigskins bumped into his arms in the manner of old
+friends, and Neil was happy as a lark. After one catch for which he had
+to run back several yards, he let himself out and booted the leather
+with every ounce of strength. The ball sailed high in a long arching
+flight, and sent several men across the field scampering back into the
+grand stand for it.
+
+"I guess you've done that before," said a voice beside him. A short,
+stockily-built youth with a round, smiling face and blue eyes that
+twinkled with fun and good spirits was observing him shrewdly.
+
+"Yes," answered Neil, "I have."
+
+"I thought so," was the reply. "But you're a freshman, aren't you?"
+
+"Yes," answered Neil, turning to let a low drive from across the
+gridiron settle into his arms. "And I guess you're not."
+
+"No, this is my third year. I've been on the team two." He paused to
+send a ball back, and then wiped the perspiration from his forehead. "I
+was quarter last year."
+
+"Oh," said Neil, observing his neighbor with interest, "then you're
+Foster?"
+
+"That's me. What are you trying for?"
+
+"Half-back. I played three years at Hillton."
+
+"Of course; you're the fellow Bob Devoe was talking about--or one of
+them; I think he said there were two of you. Which one are you?"
+
+"I'm the other one," laughed Neil. "I'm Fletcher. That's Gale over
+there, the fellow in the old red shirt; he was our captain at Hillton
+last year."
+
+Foster looked across at Paul and then back at Neil. He was evidently
+comparing them. He shook his head.
+
+"It's a good thing he's got dark hair and you've got light," he said.
+"Otherwise you wouldn't know yourselves apart; you're just of a height
+and build, and weight, too, I guess. Are you related?"
+
+"No. But we are pretty much the same height and weight. He's half an
+inch taller, and I think I weigh two pounds more."
+
+In the intervals of catching and returning punts the acquaintance
+ripened. When, at the end of three-quarters of an hour, Devoe gave the
+order to quit and the trainer sent them twice about the gridiron on a
+trot, Neil found Foster ambling along beside him.
+
+"Phew!" exclaimed the latter. "I guess I lived too high last summer and
+put on weight. This is taking it out of me finely; I can feel whole
+pounds melting off. It doesn't seem to bother you any," he added.
+
+"No, I haven't much flesh about me," panted Neil; "but I'm glad this is
+the last time around, just the same!"
+
+After their baths in the little green-roofed locker-house the two walked
+back to the yard together, Paul, as Neil saw, being in close
+companionship with a big youth whose name, according to Foster, was
+Tom Cowan.
+
+"He played right-guard last year," said Foster. "He's a soph; this is
+his third year."
+
+"Third year!" exclaimed Neil. "But how--"
+
+"Oh, Cowan was too busy to pass his exams last year," said Foster with a
+grin. "So they let him stay a soph. He doesn't care; a little thing
+like that never bothers Cowan." His tone was rather contemptuous.
+
+"Is he liked?" Neil asked.
+
+"Oh, yes; he's very popular among a small and select circle of
+friends--a very small circle." Then he dismissed Cowan with an airy wave
+of one hand. "By the way," he continued, "have you any candidate for the
+presidency of your class?"
+
+"No," Neil replied. "I haven't heard anything about it yet."
+
+"Good; then you can vote for 'Fan' Livingston. He's a _protege_ of mine,
+you see; used to know him at St. Mathias; you'll like him. He's an
+awfully good, manly, straightforward chap, just the fellow for the
+place. The election comes off next Thursday evening. How about
+your friend?"
+
+"Gale? I don't think he has any one in view. I guess you can count on
+his vote, too."
+
+"Thanks; just mention it to him, will you? I'm booming Livingston, and I
+want to see him win. Can't you come round some evening the first of the
+week? I'd like you to meet him. And meanwhile just talk him up a bit,
+will you?"
+
+Neil promised and made an appointment to meet the candidate the
+following Saturday night at Foster's room in McLean Hall. The two parted
+at the gate, Foster going up to his room and Neil traversing the campus
+and the common to his own quarters. As he opened the study door he was
+surprised to hear voices within. Paul and his new acquaintance, Tom
+Cowan, were sitting side by side on the window-seat.
+
+"Hello," greeted the former. "How'd it go? Like old times, wasn't it?
+Neil, I want you to meet Mr. Cowan. Cowan has quarters up-stairs here.
+He's an old player, and we've been telling each other how good we are."
+
+Cowan looked for an instant as though he didn't quite appreciate the
+latter remark, but summoned a smile as he shook hands with Neil and
+complimented him on his playing in Hillton's last game with St. Eustace.
+Neil replied with extraordinary politeness. He was always
+extraordinarily polite to persons he didn't fancy, and his dislike of
+Cowan was instant and hearty. Cowan looked to be fully twenty-three
+years old, and owned to being twenty-one. He was fully six feet two, and
+apparently weighed about two hundred pounds. His face was rather
+handsome in a coarse, heavy-featured style, and his hands, as Neil
+observed, were not quite clean. Later, Neil discovered that they
+never were.
+
+After listening politely for some moments to Cowan's tales of former
+football triumphs and defeats, in all of which the narrator played,
+according to his words, a prominent part, Neil broke into the stream of
+his eloquence and told Paul of his meeting with Foster, and of their
+talk regarding the freshman presidency.
+
+"Well," answered Paul, smiling at Cowan, "you'll have to get out of that
+promise to Foster or whatever his name is, because we've got a plan
+better than that. The fact is, Neil, I'm going to try for the
+presidency myself!"
+
+"I suppose you're fooling?" gasped Neil.
+
+"Not a bit! Why shouldn't I have a fling at it? Cowan here has promised
+to help; in fact, it was he that suggested it. With his help and yours,
+and with the kind assistance of one or two fellows I know here, I dare
+say I can pull out on top. Anyhow, there's no harm in trying."
+
+"I think you'll win," said Cowan. "This chump Livingston that Foster is
+booming is a regular milksop; does nothing but grind, so they say; came
+out of St. Mathias with all kinds of silly prizes and such. What the
+fellows always want is a good, popular chap that goes in for athletics
+and that will make a name for himself."
+
+"Foster said Livingston was something of a dab at baseball," said Neil.
+
+"Baseball!" cried Cowan. "What's baseball? Why not puss-in-the-corner? A
+chap with a football reputation like Gale here can walk all round your
+baseball man. We'll carry it with a rush! You'll see! Freshmen are like
+a lot of sheep--show 'em the way and they'll fall over themselves to
+get there."
+
+"Well, we're freshmen ourselves, you know," said Neil sweetly. Cowan
+looked nonplussed for a moment. Then--
+
+"Oh, but you fellows are different; you've got sense. I was speaking of
+the general run of freshmen," he explained.
+
+"Thanks," murmured Neil. Paul scented danger.
+
+"I'll put the campaign in your hands and Cowan's, Neil," he said. "You
+know several fellows here--there's Wallace and Knowles and Jones.
+They're not freshmen, but they can give you introductions. Knowles is a
+St. Agnes man and there are lots of St. Agnes fellows in our class."
+
+"I think you're making a mistake," answered Neil soberly, "and I wish
+you'd give it up. Livingston's got lots of supporters, and he's had his
+campaign under way for a week. If you're defeated I think it'll hurt
+you; fellows don't like defeated candidates when--when they're
+self-appointed candidates."
+
+"Oh, of course, if you don't want to help," cried Paul, with a trace of
+anger in his voice, "I guess we can get on without you."
+
+"I'm sure you won't desert your chum, Fletcher," said Cowan. "And I
+think you're all wrong about defeated candidates. If a fellow makes a
+good fight and is worsted no fellow that isn't a cad does other than
+honor him."
+
+"Well, if you've made up your mind, Paul," answered Neil reluctantly,
+"of course I'll do all I can if Foster will let me out of my promise
+to him."
+
+"Oh, hang Foster!" cried Cowan. "He's a little fool!"
+
+"Is he?" asked Neil innocently. "I hadn't noticed it. Well, as I say,
+I'll do all I can. And I'll begin now by going over to see him."
+
+"That's the boy," said Paul. "Tell Foster there's a dark horse in the
+field."
+
+"And tell him I say the dark horse will win," added Cowan.
+
+Neil smiled back politely from the doorway.
+
+"I don't think I'd better mention your name, Mr. Cowan." He closed the
+door behind him, leaving Cowan much puzzled as to the meaning of the
+last remark, and sought No. 12 McLean. He found the varsity quarter-back
+writing a letter by means of a small typewriter, his brow heavily
+creased with scowls and his feet kicking exasperatedly at the legs of
+his chair.
+
+"Hello," was Foster's greeting. "Come in. And, I say, just look around
+on the floor there, will you, and see if you can find an L."
+
+"Find what?" asked Neil, searching the carpet with his gaze.
+
+"An L. There was one on this pesky machine a while ago, but
+I--can't--find--Ah, here it is! 'L-O-V-I-N-G-L-Y, T-E-D'! There, that's
+done. I bought this idiotic thing because some one said you could write
+letters on it in half the time it takes with a pen. Well, I began this
+letter last night, and I guess I've spent fully two hours on it
+altogether. For two cents I'd pitch it out the window!" He pushed back
+his chair and glared vindictively at the typewriter. "And look at the
+result!" He held up a sheet of paper half covered with strange
+characters and erasures. "Look how I've spelled 'allowance'--alliwzee!
+Do you think dad will know what I mean?"
+
+Neil shook his head dubiously.
+
+"Not unless he's looking for the word," he answered.
+
+"Well, he will be," grinned Foster. "Don't suppose you want to buy a
+fine typewriter at half price, do you?"
+
+Neil was sure he didn't and broached the subject of his call. Foster
+showed some amazement when he learned of Gale's candidacy, but at once
+absolved Neil from his promise.
+
+"Frankly, Fletcher, I don't think your friend has the ghost of a show,
+you know, but, of course, if he wants to try it it's all right. And I'm
+just as much obliged to you."
+
+During the next week Neil worked early and late for Paul's success. He
+made some converts, but not enough to give him much hope. Livingston was
+easily the popular candidate for the presidency, and Neil failed to
+understand where Cowan found ground for the encouraging reports that he
+made to Paul. Paul himself was hopeful all the way through, and lent ill
+attention to Neil's predictions of failure.
+
+"You always were a raven, chum," he would exclaim. "Wait until Thursday
+night."
+
+And Neil, without much hope, waited.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+AND SHOWS HIS METTLE
+
+The freshman election took place in one of the lecture rooms of Grace
+Hall. There was a full attendance of the entering class, while the
+absence of sophomores was considered by those who had heard of former
+freshman elections at Erskine as something unnatural and of
+evil portent.
+
+Paul, robbed of the support of Tom Cowan's presence, was noticeably ill
+at ease, and for the first time appeared to be in doubt as to his
+election. Fanwell Livingston was put in nomination by one of his St.
+Mathias friends in a speech that secured wide applause, and the
+nomination was duly seconded by a red-headed and very eloquent youth
+who, so Neil learned, was King, the captain of the St. Mathias baseball
+team of the preceding spring.
+
+"Are there any more nominations?" asked the chairman, a member of the
+junior class.
+
+South, a Hillton boy, arose and spoke at some length of the courage and
+ability for leadership of one of whom they had all heard; "of one who
+on the white-grilled field of battle had successfully led the hosts of
+Hillton Academy against the St. Eustace hosts." (Two St. Eustace
+graduates howled derisively.) South ended in a wild burst of flowery
+eloquence and placed in nomination "that triumphant football captain,
+that best of good fellows, Paul Dunlop Gale!"
+
+The applause which followed was flattering, though, had Paul but known
+it, it was rather for the speech than the nominee. And the effect was
+somewhat marred by several inquiries from different parts of the hall as
+to who in thunder Gale was. Neil secured recognition ere the applause
+had subsided, and seconded the nomination. He avoided rhetoric, and told
+his classmates in few words and simple phrases that Paul Gale possessed
+pluck, generalship, and executive ability; that he had proved this at
+Hillton, and, given the chance, would prove it again at Erskine.
+
+"Gale is a stranger to many of you fellows," he concluded, "but, whether
+you make him class president or whether you give that honor to another,
+he won't be a stranger long. A fellow that can pilot a Hillton football
+team to victory against almost overwhelming odds and through the
+greatest of difficulties as Gale did last year is not the sort to sit
+around in corners and watch the procession go by. No, sir; keep your eye
+on him. I'll wager that before the year's out you'll be prouder of him
+than of any man in your class. And, meanwhile, if you're looking for
+the right man for the presidency, a man that'll lead 1905 to a renown
+beside which the other classes will look like so many battered
+golf-balls, why, I've told you where to look."
+
+Neil sat down amid a veritable roar of applause, and Paul, totally
+unembarrassed by the praise and acclaim, smiled with satisfaction. "That
+was all right, chum," he whispered. "I guess we've got them on the
+run, eh?"
+
+But Neil shook his head doubtfully. Cries of "Vote! Vote!" arose, and in
+a moment or two the balloting began. While this was proceeding
+announcement was made that the annual Freshman Class Dinner would be
+held on the evening of the following Monday, October 7th. When the
+cheers occasioned by this information had subsided the chairman arose.
+
+"The result of the balloting, gentlemen," he announced, "is as follows:
+Livingston, 97; Gale, 45. Mr. Livingston is elected by a majority
+of 52."
+
+Shouts of "Livingston! Livingston! Speech! Speech!" filled the air, and
+were not stilled until some one arose and announced that the
+president-elect was not in the hall. Paul, after a glance of
+bewilderment at Neil, had sat silent in his chair with something between
+a sneer and a scowl on his face. Now he jumped up.
+
+"Come on; let's get out of here," he muttered. "They act like a lot of
+idiots." Neil followed, and they found themselves in a pushing throng at
+the door. The chairman was vainly clamoring for some one to put a motion
+to adjourn, but none heeded him. The crowd pushed and shoved, but made
+no progress.
+
+"Open that door," cried Paul.
+
+"Try it yourself," answered a voice up front. "It's locked!"
+
+A murmur arose that quickly gave place to cries of wrath and
+indignation. "The sophs did it!" "Where are they?" "Break the door
+down!" Those at the rear heaved and pushed.
+
+"Stop shoving, back there!" yelled those in front. "You're squashing us
+flat."
+
+"Everybody away from the door!" shouted Neil. "Let's see if we can't get
+it open." The fellows finally fell back to some extent, and Neil, Paul,
+and some of the others examined the lock. The key was still there, but,
+unfortunately, on the outside. Breaking the door down was utterly out of
+the question, since it was of solid oak and several inches thick. The
+self-appointed committee shook its several heads.
+
+"We'll have to yell for the janitor," said Neil. "Where does he hang
+out?"
+
+But none knew. Neil went to one of the three windows and raised it.
+Instantly a chorus of derision floated up from below. Gathered almost
+under the windows was a throng of sophomores, their upturned faces just
+visible in the darkness.
+
+"O Fresh! O Fresh!" "Want to come down?" "Why don't you jump?" These
+gibes were followed by cheers for "'04" and loud groans. Neil turned and
+faced his angry classmates.
+
+"Look here, fellows," he said, "we don't want to have to yell for the
+janitor with those sophs there; that's too babyish. The key's in the
+outside of the lock. I think I can get down all right by the ivy, and
+I'll unlock the door if those sophs will let me. If two or three of you
+will follow I guess we can do it all right."
+
+"Bully for you!" "Plucky boy!" cried the audience. But for a moment none
+came forward to share the risk. Then Paul pushed his way to the window.
+
+"Here, I'll go with you, chum," he said, with a suggestion of swagger.
+"We can manage those dubs down there alone. The rest of you can sit down
+and tell stories; we'll let you out in a minute," he added scathingly.
+
+"That's Gale," whispered some one. "Fresh kid!", added another angrily.
+But the gibe had the desired effect. Four other freshmen signified their
+willingness to die for their class, and Neil climbed on to the broad
+window-sill. His reappearance was the signal for another outburst from
+the watching sophomores.
+
+"Don't jump, sonny; you may hurt yourself." "He's going to fly, fellows!
+Good little Freshie's got wings!" "Say, we'll let you out in the
+morning! Good-night!"
+
+But when Neil, divesting himself of coat and shoes, swung out and laid
+hold of the largest of the big ivy branches that clung there to the
+wall, the jeers died away. The hall where the meeting had been held was
+on the third floor, and when Neil stepped from the window-sill he hung
+fully twenty-five feet from the ground. The ivy branch, ages old, was
+almost as large as his wrist, and quite strong enough to bear his weight
+just as long as it did not tear from its fastenings. Whether it would
+hold in place remained to be seen. Neil judged that if he could lower
+himself fifteen feet by its aid he could easily drop the rest of the
+distance without injury. The window above was black with watchers as he
+began his journey, and many voices cheered him on. Paul, his feet
+hanging over the black void, sat on the narrow ledge and waited
+his turn.
+
+"Go fast, chum," he counseled, "but don't lose your grip. I'll wait
+until you're down."
+
+"All right," answered Neil. Then, with a great rustling of the
+thick-growing leaves, he lowered himself by arm's lengths. The vine
+swayed and gave at every strain, but held. From below came the sound of
+clapping. Hand under hand he went. The oblong of faint light above
+receded fast. His stockinged feet gripped the vine tightly. In the group
+of sophomores the clapping grew into cheers.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"Good work, Freshie!" "You're all right!"
+
+Then, with the ground almost at his feet, Neil let go and dropped
+lightly into a bed of shrubbery. The fellows above applauded wildly.
+With a glance at the near-by group of sophomores, Neil ran. Several of
+the enemy started to intercept him, but were called back.
+
+"Let him go! He's all right! We've had our fun!" And Neil sprang up the
+steps and into the building without molestation. Meanwhile Paul was
+making his descent and receiving his meed of applause from friend and
+foe. And as he dropped to earth there came a sound of cheering from the
+building, and the freshmen, released by the unlocking of the door,
+emerged on to the steps and path.
+
+"Five this way!" was the cry. "Rush the sophs!"
+
+But wiser counsels prevailed and, each cheering loudly, the
+representatives of the rival classes took themselves off.
+
+Neil and Paul were the last to leave the building, since they had been
+obliged to return to the room for their shoes and coats. Paul had
+forgotten some of his disappointment during the later proceedings, and
+appeared very well satisfied with himself.
+
+"We showed them what Hillton chaps can do, chum," he said. "And I'll bet
+they'll regret electing that fellow Livingston before I'm through with
+them! Much I care about their old presidency! They're a pack of silly
+little kids, any way. Let's go to bed."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+MILLS, HEAD COACH
+
+"TO THE IN-FANTS OF 1905:
+
+"GREETING!
+
+"The class of 1904, an-i-mat-ed by the kind-li-est of sen-ti-ments, has,
+at an ex-pen-se of much time and thought, form-u-lat-ed the fol-low-ing
+RULES for the guid-ance of your todd-ling foot-steps at this the out-set
+of your col-lege car-eers. A strict ad-her-ence to these PRE-CEPTS will
+in-sure to you the ad-mi-ra-tion of your fond par-ents, the re-spect of
+your friends, and the love of the SOPH-O-MORE CLASS, which, in the
+ab-sence of rel-at-ives, will, with thought-ful, tender care, stand ever
+by to guard you from the world's hard knocks.
+
+"ATTEND, INFANTS!
+
+"1. R-spect for eld-ers and those in auth-or-ity is one of child-hood's
+most charm-ing traits. There-for take off your hat to all SOPH-O-MORES,
+and when in their pres-ence al-ways main-tain a def-er-en-tial sil-ence.
+
+"2. Tall hats and canes as art-i-cles of child-ren's attire are
+ex-treme-ly un-be-com-ing, and are there-for strict-ly pro-hib-it-ed.
+
+"3. Smok-ing, either of pipes, cig-ars, or cig-ar-ettes, stunts the
+growth and re-tards the dev-el-op-ment of in-tel-lect. Child-ren,
+be-ware!
+
+"4. A suf-fic-ien-cy of sleep and plain, whole-some fare are strong-ly
+re-com-mend-ed.
+
+ "Early to bed and early to rise
+ Makes little Freshie healthy and wise.
+
+"Avoid late hours and rich food, es-pec-ial-ly fudge.
+
+"5. That you may not be tempt-ed to trans-gress the pre-ceed-ing rule,
+it has been thought best to pro-hib-it the Freshman Din-ner, which in
+pre-vi-ous years has ruin-ed so many young lives. The hab-it of hold-ing
+these din-ners is a per-nic-ious one and must be stamp-ed out. To this
+end the CLASS OF 1904 will ex-ert its strong-est ef-forts, and you are
+here-by warn-ed that any at-tempt to re-vive this lam-ent-able cust-om
+will bring down up-on you severe chast-ise-ment.
+
+ "We must be cruel only to be kind;
+ Pause and reflect, who would be dined.
+
+"Heed and prof-it by these PRE-CEPTS, dear child-ren, that you may grow
+up to be great and noble men like those who sub-scribe them-selves,
+
+"Pa-ter-nal-ly yours,
+
+"THE CLASS OF 1904.
+
+"You are ad-ver-tis-ed by your lov-ing friends."
+
+This startling information, printed in sophomore red on big white
+placards, flamed from every available space in and about the campus the
+next morning. The nocturnal bill-posters had shown themselves no
+respecters of places, for the placards adorned not fences and walls
+alone, but were pasted on the granite steps of each recitation hall. All
+the forenoon groups of staid seniors, grinning juniors and sophomores,
+or vexed freshmen stood in front of the placards and read the
+inscriptions with varied emotions. But in the afternoon a cheering mob
+of the "infants" marched through the college and town and tore down or
+effaced every poster they could find. But they didn't get as far from
+the campus as the athletic field, and so it was not until Neil and Paul
+and one or two other freshmen reported for practise at four o'clock that
+it was discovered that the high board fence surrounding the field was a
+mass of the objectionable signs from end to end.
+
+"Oh, let them stay," said Neil. "I think they're rather funny myself.
+And as for their stopping the freshman dinner, why we'll wait and see.
+If they try it we'll have our chance to get back at them."
+
+"R-r-revenge!" muttered South, who, with a lacrosse stick over his
+shoulder and an attire consisting wholly of a pair of flapping white
+trunks, a faded green shirt, and a pair of canvas shoes, had come out to
+join the lacrosse candidates.
+
+"King suggested our getting some small posters printed in blue with just
+the figures ''05' on them, and pasting one on every soph's window," said
+Paul, "but Livingston wouldn't hear of it. I think it would be a good
+game, eh?"
+
+"Faculty'd kick up no end of a rumpus," said South.
+
+"I haven't heard that they are doing much about these things," answered
+Paul. "If the sophs can stick things around why can't we?"
+
+"You'd better ask the Dean," suggested Neil. "Hello, who's that chap?"
+
+They had entered the grounds and were standing on the steps of the
+locker-house. The person to whom Neil referred was just coming through
+the gate. He was a medium-sized man of about thirty years, with a
+good-looking, albeit very freckled face, and a good deal of sandy hair.
+The afternoon was quite warm, and he carried his straw hat in one very
+brown hand, while over his arm lay a sweater of Erskine purple, a pair
+of canvas trousers, and two worn shoes.
+
+"Blessed if I know who he is!" murmured South. They watched the newcomer
+as he traversed the path and reached the steps. As he passed them and
+entered the building he looked them over keenly with a pair of very
+sharp and very light blue eyes.
+
+"Wow!" muttered Paul. "He looked as though he was trying to decide
+whether I would taste better fried or baked."
+
+"I wonder--" began Neil. But at that moment Tom Cowan came up and Paul
+put the question to him.
+
+"The fellow that just came in?" repeated Cowan. "That, my boy, is a
+gentleman who will have you standing on your head in just about twenty
+minutes. Some eight or ten years ago he was popularly known hereabouts
+as 'Whitey' Mills. To-day, if you know your business, you'll address him
+as _Mister_ Mills."
+
+"Oh," said Neil, "he's the head coach, is he?"
+
+"He is, my young friend. And as he used to be one of the finest
+half-backs in the country, I guess you'll see something of him before
+you make the team. I dare say he can teach even you something about
+playing your position." Cowan grinned and passed on.
+
+"Oh, go to thunder!" muttered Neil, following him into the building.
+
+He found Mills being introduced by Devoe to such of the new candidates
+as were on hand.
+
+"You remember Cowan, I guess," Devoe was saying. "He played right-guard
+last year." Mills and Cowan shook hands. "And this is Fletcher, a new
+man," continued the captain, "and Gale, too; they're both Hillton
+fellows and played at half. It was Fletcher that made that fine run in
+the St. Eustace game. Gale was the captain last year."
+
+Mills shook hands with each, but beyond a short nod of his head and a
+brief "Glad to meet you," displayed no knowledge of their fame.
+
+"Grouchy chap," commented Paul when, the coach out of hearing, they were
+changing their clothes.
+
+"Well, he doesn't hurt himself talking," answered Neil. "But he looks
+as though he knew his business. His eyes are like little blue-steel
+gimlets."
+
+"Doesn't look much for strength, though," said Paul.
+
+But when, a few minutes later, Mills appeared on the gridiron in
+football togs, Paul was forced to alter his opinion. Chest, arms, and
+legs were a mass of muscle, and the head coach looked as though he could
+render a good account of himself against the stiffest line that could be
+put together.
+
+The practise began with ten minutes of falling on the ball. The
+candidates were lined out in two strings across the field, the old men
+in one, the new material in another. Neil and Paul were among the
+latter, and Mills held their ball. Standing at the right end of the
+line, he rolled the pigskin in front of and slightly away from the line,
+and one after another the men leaped forward and flung themselves upon
+it, missing it at first as often as not, and rolling about on the turf
+as though suddenly seized with fits. Neil rather prided himself on his
+ability to fall on the ball, and went at it like an old stager, or so he
+thought. But if he expected commendation he found none. When the last
+man had rolled around after the elusive pigskin, Mills went to the other
+end of the line and did it all over again.
+
+When it came Neil's turn he plunged out, found the ball nicely, and
+snuggled it against his breast. To his surprise when he arose Mills left
+his place and walked out to him.
+
+"Let's try that again," he said. Neil tossed him the ball and went back
+to his place. Mills nodded to him and rolled the pigskin toward him.
+Neil dropped on his hip, securing the ball under his right arm. Like a
+flash Mills was over him, and with a quick blow of his hand had sent the
+leather bobbing across the turf yards away.
+
+"When you get it, hold on to it," he said dryly. Neil arose with
+reddening cheeks and, amid the smiles of the others, went back to his
+place trying to decide whether, if he could have his way, the coach
+should perish by boiling oil or by merely being drawn and quartered. But
+after that it was a noticeable fact that the men clung to the ball when
+they got it as though it were a dearly loved friend.
+
+Later, passing down the line in front from end to end, the head coach
+threw the ball swiftly at the feet of one after another of the
+candidates, and each was obliged to drop where he stood and have the
+ball in his arms when he landed. When Mills came to Neil the latter was
+still nursing his resentment, and his cheeks still proclaimed that
+fact. After the boy had dropped on the ball and had tossed it back to
+the coach their eyes met. In the coach's was just the merest twinkle, a
+very ghost of a smile; but Neil saw it, and it said to him as plainly as
+words could have said, "I know just how you feel, my boy, but you'll get
+over it after a while."
+
+The coach passed on and the flush faded from Neil's cheeks; he even
+smiled a little. It was all right; Mills understood. It was almost as
+though they shared a secret between them. Alfred Mills, head football
+coach at Erskine College, had no more devoted admirer and partizan from
+that moment than Neil Fletcher, '05.
+
+Next the men were spread out until there was a little space between
+each, and the coach passed behind the line and shot the ball through,
+and they had an opportunity to see what they could do with a pigskin
+that sped away ahead of them. By careful management it is possible in
+falling on a football to bring almost every portion of the anatomy in
+violent contact with the ground, and this fact was forcibly brought home
+to Neil, Paul, and all the others by the time the work was at an end.
+
+"I've got bones I never knew the existence of before," mourned Neil.
+
+"Me too," growled Paul. "And half a dozen of my front teeth are aching
+from trying to bite holes in the ground; I think they're all loose. If
+they come out I'll send the dentist's bill to the management."
+
+A few minutes later Neil found himself at left half in one of the six
+squads of eleven men each that practised advancing the ball. They lined
+up in ordinary formation, and the ball was passed to one back after
+another for end runs. Mills went from squad to squad, criticizing
+briefly and succinctly.
+
+"Don't wait for the quarter to pass," he told Paul, who was playing
+beside Neil. "On your toes and run hard. Have confidence in your
+quarter. If the ball isn't ready for you it's not your fault. Try
+that again."
+
+And when Paul and Neil and the full-back had plowed round the left end
+once more--
+
+"Quarter, don't hold that ball as though your hand was frozen; keep your
+hand limber and see that you get the belly of the ball in it, not one
+end; then it won't tilt itself out. When you get the ball from center
+rise quickly, put your back against guard, and throw your weight there.
+And it's just as necessary for you to have confidence in the runner as
+it is for him to have faith in you. Don't fear that you'll be too quick
+for him; don't doubt but that he'll be there at the right instant. Keep
+that in mind and you'll soon have things going like clock-work. Now once
+more; ball to left half for a run around right end."
+
+When practise was over that day the new candidates were unanimous in the
+opinion that they had learned more that afternoon under Mills than they
+had learned during the whole previous week. Neil, Paul, and Cowan
+walked back to college together.
+
+"Yes, he's a great little coach," said Cowan, "and a nice chap when you
+get to know him; no frills on him, you know. And he's plumb full of
+pluck. They say that once when he played here at half-back he got the
+ball on Robinson's forty yards and walked down the field and over the
+line for a touch-down with half the Robinson team hanging on to his
+legs, and said afterward that he thought he _had_ felt some one tugging
+at him!" Neil laughed.
+
+"But he doesn't look so awfully strong," he objected.
+
+"Well, I guess he was in better trim then," answered Cowan. "Besides,
+he's built well, you see--most of his weight below his waist; when a
+chap's that way it's hard to pull him over. I remember last year in the
+game with Erstham I got through their tackle on a guard-back
+play, and--"
+
+But Neil had already heard that story of heroic deeds, and so lent a
+deaf ear to Cowan's boasting. When they reached Main Street a window
+full of the first issue of the college weekly, The Erskine Purple, met
+their sight, and they went in and bought copies. On the steps of the
+laboratory building they opened the inky-smelling journals and glanced
+through them.
+
+"Here's an account of last night's election," said Cowan. "That's quick
+work, isn't it? And you can read all about Livingston's brilliant
+career, Gale. By the way, have you met him yet?"
+
+Paul shook his head. "No, and I'm bearing up under it as well as can be
+expected."
+
+"You're not missing much," said Cowan. "Hello, here's the football
+schedule! Want to hear it?" Paul said he did, Neil muttered something
+unintelligible, and Cowan read as follows:
+
+ "E.C.F.B.A.
+
+ "SCHEDULE OF GAMES
+
+ "Oct. 12. Woodby at Centerport.
+ " 16. Dexter at Centerport.
+ " 23. Harvard at Cambridge.
+ " 26. Erstham at Centerport.
+ Nov. 2. State University at Centerport.
+ " 6. Arrowden at Centerport.
+ " 9. Yale at New Haven.
+ " 16. Artmouth at Centerport.
+ " 23. Robinson at Centerport."
+
+"By Jove!" said Cowan. "We've got seven home games this year! That's
+fine, isn't it? But I'll bet we'll find Woodby a tough proposition on
+the 12th. Last year we played her about the 1st of November, and she
+didn't do a thing to us. And look at the game they've got scheduled for
+a week before the Robinson game! That'll wear us out; Artmouth will put
+just about half of our men on the sick-list. And--Hello!" he said,
+dropping his voice; "talk of an angel!"
+
+A youth of apparently nineteen years was approaching them. He was of
+moderate height, rather slimly built, with dark eyes and hair, and
+clean-cut features. He swung a note-book in one hand, and was evidently
+in deep thought, for he failed to see the group on the steps, and would
+have passed without speaking had not Cowan called to him. Housed from
+his reverie, Fanwell Livingston glanced up, and, after nodding to Cowan
+and Neil, turned in at the gate.
+
+"I suppose you want congratulations," said Cowan. "Well, you can have
+mine."
+
+"And mine," added Neil. "And Gale here will extend his as soon as he's
+properly introduced. Mr. Gale--Mr. Livingston."
+
+"Victory--Defeat," added Cowan with a grin. The two candidates for the
+freshman presidency shook hands, Paul without enthusiasm,
+Livingston heartily.
+
+"Congratulations, of course," murmured the former.
+
+"Thank you," answered the president. "You're very generous. After all, I
+dare say you've got the best of it, for you'll have the satisfaction of
+knowing that if the fellows had chosen you you would have done much
+better than I shall. However, I hope we'll be friends, Mr. Gale."
+Livingston's smile was undeniably winning, and Paul was forced to
+return it.
+
+"You're very good," he answered quite affably. "I hope we will."
+Livingston nodded, smiled again, and turned to Cowan.
+
+"Well, they tell me you fellows are in for desperate deeds this year,"
+he said.
+
+"How's that?" asked Cowan.
+
+"Aren't you in on the sophomore councils? Why, I'm told that if the
+freshmen don't give up the dinner plan I'm to be kidnaped."
+
+"How'd you hear--" began Cowan. Then he paused with some confusion. "Who
+told you that rot?" he asked with a laugh.
+
+"Oh, it came in a roundabout way," answered Livingston. "I dare say it's
+just talk."
+
+"Some freshman nonsense," said Cowan. "I guess we'll do our best to keep
+you fellows from eating too much, but--" He shrugged his big shoulders.
+Livingston, observing him shrewdly, began for the first time since
+intelligence of the supposed project had reached him to give credence to
+it. But he laughed carelessly as he turned away.
+
+"Oh, well, we have to keep you fellows amused, of course, and if you
+like to try kidnaping you may."
+
+"I wish the sophs would try it," said Neil warmly. Cowan turned to him.
+
+"Well, if they did--_if_ they did--I guess they'd succeed," he drawled.
+
+"Well, if they do--_if_ they do," answered Neil, "I'll bet they won't
+succeed."
+
+"You'd stop us, perhaps?" sneered Cowan.
+
+"Easily," answered Neil, smiling sweetly; "there are only a hundred or
+so of you."
+
+"There's no one like a week-old freshman for self-importance," Cowan
+said, laughing in order to hide his vexation.
+
+"Unless it's a third-year sophomore," Neil retorted.
+
+"Oh, well," Paul interposed, "it's all poppycock, anyhow."
+
+"That's all," said Livingston.
+
+"Of course," agreed Cowan.
+
+Neil was silent.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+THE GENTLE ART OF HANDLING PUNTS
+
+Life now was filled with hard work for both Neil and Paul. Much of the
+novelty that had at first invested study with an exhilarating interest
+had worn off, and they had settled down to the daily routine of lectures
+and recitations just as though they had been Erskine undergrads for
+years instead of a week. The study and the adjoining bed-room were at
+last furnished to suit; The First Snow was hung, the "rug for the
+wash-stand" was in place, and the objectionable towel-rack had given way
+to a smaller but less erratic affair.
+
+Every afternoon saw the two boys on Erskine Field. Mills was a hard
+taskmaster, but one that inspired the utmost confidence, and as a result
+of some ten days' teaching the half hundred candidates who had survived
+the first weeding-out process were well along in the art of football.
+The new men were coached daily in the rudiments; were taught to punt and
+catch, to fall on the ball, to pass without fumbling, to start quickly,
+and to run hard. Exercise in the gymnasium still went on, but the
+original twenty-minute period had gradually diminished to ten. Neil and
+Paul, with certain other candidates for the back-field, were daily
+instructed in catching punts and forming interference. Every afternoon
+the practise was watched by a throng of students who were quick to
+applaud good work, and whose presence was a constant incentive to the
+players. There was a strong sentiment throughout the college in favor of
+leaving nothing undone that might secure a victory over Robinson. The
+defeat of the previous year rankled, and Erskine was grimly determined
+to square accounts with her lifelong rival. As one important means to
+this end the college was searched through and through for heavy
+material, for Robinson always turned out teams that, whatever might be
+their playing power, were beef and brawn from left end to right. And so
+at Erskine men who didn't know a football from a goal-post were hauled
+from studious retirement simply because they had weight and promised
+strength, and were duly tried and, usually, found wanting. One lucky
+find, however, rewarded the search, a two-hundred-pound sophomore named
+Browning, who, handicapped at the start with a colossal ignorance
+regarding all things pertaining to the gridiron, learned with wonderful
+rapidity, and gave every promise of turning himself into a phenomenal
+guard or tackle.
+
+On the 5th of October a varsity and a second squad were formed, and Neil
+and Paul found themselves at left and right half respectively on the
+latter. Cowan was back at right-guard on the varsity, a position which
+he had played satisfactorily the year before. Neil had already made the
+discovery that he had, despite his Hillton experience, not a little to
+learn, and he set about learning it eagerly. Paul made the same
+discovery, but, unfortunately for himself, the discovery wounded his
+pride, and he accepted the criticisms of coach and captain with rather
+ill grace.
+
+"That dub Devoe makes me very weary," he confided to Neil one afternoon.
+"He thinks he knows it all and no one else has any sense."
+
+"He doesn't strike me that way," answered his chum. "And I think he does
+know a good deal of football."
+
+"You always stick up for him," growled Paul. "And for Mills,
+too--white-haired, freckle-faced chump!"
+
+"Don't be an idiot," said Neil. "One's captain and t'other is coach, and
+they're going to rub it into us whenever they please, and the best thing
+for us to do is to take it and look cheerful."
+
+"That's it; we _have_ to take it," Paul objected. "They can put us on
+the bench if they want to and keep us there all the season; I know that.
+But, just the same, I don't intend to lick Devoe's boots or rub my head
+in the dirt whenever Mills looks at me."
+
+"Well, it looks to me as though you'd been rubbing your head in the dirt
+already," laughed Neil.
+
+"Connor stepped on me there," muttered Paul, wiping a clump of mud from
+his forehead. "Come on; Mills is yelling for us. More catching punts,
+I suppose."
+
+And his supposition was correct. Across the width of the sunlit field
+Graham, the two-hundred-and-thirty-pound center rush, stooped over the
+pigskin. Beside him were two pairs of end rushes, and behind him, with
+outstretched hands, stood Ted Foster. Foster gave a signal, the ball
+went back to him on a long pass, and he sent it over the gridiron toward
+where Neil, Paul, and two other backs were waiting. The ends came down
+under the kick, the ball thumped into Paul's hands, Neil and another
+formed speedy interference, and the three were well off before the ends,
+like miniature cyclones, were upon them and had dragged Paul to earth.
+
+The head coach, a short but sturdy figure in worn-out trousers and faded
+purple shirt, stood on the edge of the cinder track and viewed the work
+with critical eye. When the ends had trotted back over the field with
+the ball to repeat the proceeding, he made himself heard:
+
+"Spread out more, fellows, and don't all stand in a line across the
+field. You've got to learn now to judge kicks; you can't expect to
+always find yourself just under them. Fletcher, as soon as you've
+decided who is to take the ball yell out. Then play to the runner; every
+other man form into interference and get him up the field. Now then!
+Play quick!"
+
+The ball was in flight again, and once more the ends were speeding
+across under it. "Mine!" cried Neil. Then the leather was against his
+breast and he was dodging forward, Paul ahead of him to bowl over
+opposing players, and Pearse, a full-back candidate, plunging along
+beside. One--two--three of the ends were passed, and the ball had been
+run back ten yards. Then Stone, last year's varsity left end, fooled
+Paul, and getting inside him, nailed Neil by the hips.
+
+"Well tackled, Stone," called Mills. "Gale, you were asleep, man; Stone
+ought never to have got through there. Fletcher, you're going to lose
+the ball some time when you need it badly if you don't catch better than
+that. Never reach up for it; remember that your opponent can't tackle
+you until you've touched it; wait until it hits against your stomach,
+and then grip it hard. If you take it in the air it's an easy stunt for
+an opponent to knock it out of your hands; but if you've got it hugged
+against your body it won't matter how hard you're thrown, the ball's
+yours for keeps. Bear that in mind."
+
+On the next kick Neil called to Gale to take the pigskin. Paul misjudged
+it, and was forced to turn and run back. He missed the catch, a
+difficult one under the circumstances, and also missed the rebound. By
+this time the opposing ends were down on him. The ball trickled across
+the running track, and Paul stooped to pick it up. But Stone was ahead
+of him, and seizing the pigskin, was off for what would have been a
+touch-down had it been in a game.
+
+"What's the matter, Gale?" cried Mills angrily. "Why didn't you fall on
+that ball?"
+
+"It was on the cinders," answered Paul, in evident surprise. Mills made
+a motion of disgust, of tragic impatience.
+
+"I don't care," he cried, "if it was on broken glass! You've got orders
+to fall on the ball. Now bring it over here, put it down
+and--_fall_--_on_--_it_!"
+
+Neil watched his chum apprehensively. Knowing well Paul's impatience
+under discipline, he feared that the latter would give way to anger and
+mutiny on the spot. But Paul did as directed, though with bad grace, and
+contented himself with muttered words as he threw the pigskin to a
+waiting end and went back to his place.
+
+Soon afterward they were called away for a ten-minute line-up. Paul,
+still smarting under what in his own mind he termed a cruel indignity,
+played poorly, and ere the ten minutes was half up was relegated to the
+benches, his place at right half being taken by Kirk. The second managed
+to hold the varsity down to one score that day, and might have taken the
+ball over itself had not Pearse fumbled on the varsity's three yards. As
+it was, they were given a hearty cheer by the watchers when time was
+called, and they trotted to the bucket to be sponged off. Then those who
+had not already been in the line-up were given the gridiron, and the
+varsity and second were sent for a trot four times around the field, the
+watchful eye of "Baldy" Simson, Erskine's veteran trainer, keeping them
+under surveillance until they had completed their task and had trailed
+out the gate toward the locker-house, baths, and rub-downs.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+THE KIDNAPING
+
+Fanwell Livingston was curled in the window-seat in his front room, his
+book close to the bleared pane, striving to find light enough by which
+to study. Outside it was raining in a weary, desultory way, and the
+heavens were leaden-hued. Livingston's quarters were on the front of
+that big lemon-yellow house at the corner of Oak and King Streets, about
+equidistant from campus and field. The outlook to-day was far from
+inspiriting. When he raised his eyes from the pages before him he saw an
+empty road running with water; beyond that a bare, weed-grown, sodden
+field that stretched westward to the unattractive backs of the one-and
+two-storied shops on Main Street. Livingston's room wasn't in any sense
+central, but he liked it because it was quiet, because aside from the
+family he had the house to himself, and because Mrs. Saunders, his
+landlady, was goodness itself and administered to his comfort almost as
+his own mother would have done.
+
+The freshman president laid aside his book, grimaced at the dreary
+prospect, and took out his watch. "Ten minutes after five," he murmured.
+"Heavens, what a beastly dark day! I'll have to start to get dressed
+before long. Too bad we've got such weather for the affair." He glanced
+irresolutely toward the gas-fixture, and from thence to where his
+evening clothes lay spread out on the couch. For it was the evening of
+the Freshman Class Dinner. While he was striving to find energy
+wherewith to tear himself from the soft cushions and make a light,
+footsteps sounded outside his door, and some one demanded admission.
+
+"Come in!" he called.
+
+The door swung open, was closed swiftly and softly again, and Neil
+Fletcher crossed the room. He looked rather like a tramp; his hat was a
+misshapen thing of felt from which the water dripped steadily as he
+tossed it aside; his sweater--he wore no coat--was soaking wet; and his
+trousers and much-darned golf stockings were in scarcely better
+condition. His hair looked as though he had just taken his head from a
+water-bucket, and his face bespoke excitement.
+
+"They're coming after you, Livingston," he cried in an intense whisper.
+"I heard Cowan telling Carey in the locker-room a minute ago; they
+didn't know I was there; it was dark as dark. They've got a carriage,
+and there are going to be nearly a dozen of them. I ran all the way as
+soon as I got on to Oak Street. There wasn't time to get any of the
+fellows together, so I just sneaked right over here. You can get out now
+and go--somewhere--to our room or the library. They won't look for you
+there, eh? There's a fellow at the corner watching, but I don't think he
+saw me, and I can settle with him; or maybe you could get out the back
+way and double round by the railroad? You can't stay here, because
+they're coming right away; Cowan said--"
+
+"For heaven's sake, Fletcher, what do you mean?" asked Livingston. "You
+don't want me to believe that they're really going to run off with me?"
+
+Neil, gasping for breath, subsided on to the window-seat and nodded his
+head vigorously. "That's just what I do mean. There's no doubt about it,
+my friend. Didn't I tell you I heard Cowan--"
+
+"Oh, Cowan!"
+
+"I know, but it was all in earnest. Carey and he are on their way to
+Pike's stable for the carriage, and the others are to meet there.
+They've had fellows watching you all day. There's one at the corner
+now--a tall, long-nosed chap that I've seen in class. So get your things
+and get out as soon as you can move."
+
+Livingston, with his hands in his pockets, stared thoughtfully out of
+the window, Neil watching him impatiently and listening apprehensively
+for the sound of carriage wheels down the street.
+
+"It doesn't seem to me that they could be idiots enough to attempt such
+a silly trick," said Livingston at last. "You--you're quite sure you
+weren't mistaken--that they weren't stringing you?"
+
+"They didn't know I was there!" cried Neil in exasperation. "I went in
+late--Mills had us blocking kicks--and was changing my things over in a
+dark corner when they hurried in and went over into the next alley and
+began to talk. At first they were whispering, but after a bit they
+talked loud enough for me to hear every word."
+
+"Well, anyhow--and I'm awfully much obliged, Fletcher--I don't intend to
+run from a few sophs. I'll lock the front door and this one and let
+them hammer."
+
+"But--"
+
+"Nonsense; when they find they can't get in they'll get tired and go
+away."
+
+"And you'll go out and get nabbed at the corner! That's a clever
+program, I don't think!" cried Neil in intense scorn. "Now you listen to
+me, Livingston. What you want to do is to put your glad rags in a bag
+and--What's that?"
+
+He leaped to his feet and peered out of the window. Just within his
+range of vision a carriage, drawn by two dripping, sorry-looking nags,
+drew up under the slight shelter of an elm-tree about fifty yards away
+from the house. From it emerged eight fellows in rain-coats, while the
+tall, long-nosed watcher whom Neil had seen at the corner joined them
+and made his report. The group looked toward Livingston's window and
+Neil dodged back.
+
+"It's too late now," he whispered. "There they are."
+
+"Look a bit damp, don't they," laughed Livingston softly as he peered
+out over the other's shoulder. "I'll go down and lock the door."
+
+"No, stay here," said Neil. "I'll look after that; they might get you. I
+wish it wasn't so dark! How about the back way? Can't you get out there
+and sneak around by the field?"
+
+"I told you I wasn't going to run away from them," replied his host,
+"and I haven't changed my mind."
+
+"You're an obstinate ass!" answered Neil. He scowled at the calm and
+smiling countenance of the freshman president a moment, and then turned
+quickly and pulled the shades at the windows. "I've got it!" he cried.
+"Look here, will you do as I tell you? If you do I promise you we'll
+fool them finely."
+
+"I'm not going out of this room," objected Livingston.
+
+"Yes, you are--into the next one. And you're going to lock the door
+behind you; and I'm going to look after our sophomore callers. Now go
+ahead. Do as I tell you, or I'll go off and leave you to be eaten
+alive!" Neil, grinning delightedly, thrust the unwilling Livingston
+before him. "Now lock the door and keep quiet. No matter what you hear,
+keep quiet and stay in there."
+
+"But--"
+
+"You be hanged!" Neil pulled to the bed-room door, and listened until he
+heard the key turn on the other side. Then he stole to the window and,
+lifting a corner of the shade, peeped out. The group of sophomores were
+no longer in sight, but at that moment he heard the front door close
+softly. There was no time to lose. He found a match and hurriedly
+lighted one burner over the study table. Then, turning it down to a mere
+blue point of light, he flung himself back among the cushions on the
+window-seat, and with a heart that hammered violently at his
+ribs waited.
+
+Almost in the next moment there were sounds of shuffling feet outside
+the study door, a low voice, and then a knock. Neil took a long breath.
+
+"Come in," he called drowsily.
+
+The door opened. Neil arose and walked to the gas-fixture, knocking over
+a chair on his way.
+
+"Come in, whoever you are," he muttered. "Guess I was almost asleep." He
+reached up a hand and turned out the gas. The room, almost dark before,
+was now blackness from wall to wall. "Pshaw," said Neil, "I've turned
+the pesky thing out! Just stand still until I find a match or you'll
+break your shins." He groped his way toward the mantel. Now was the
+sophomores' opportunity, and they seized it. Neil had done his best to
+imitate Livingston's careful and rather precise manner of speaking, and
+the invaders, few of whom even knew the president of the freshman
+class by sight, never for an instant doubted that they had captured him.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Neil found himself suddenly seized by strong arms. With a cry of
+simulated surprise, he struggled feebly.
+
+"Here, what's up, fellows?" he remonstrated. "Look out, I tell you!
+_Don't do that_!"
+
+Then he was borne, protesting and kicking, feet foremost, through the
+door, out into the hall and down the stairs. When the front door was
+thrown open Neil was alarmed to find that although almost dark it was
+still light enough for his captors to discover their mistake. Hiding his
+face as best he could, he lifted his voice in loud cries for help. It
+worked like a charm. Instantly a carriage robe was thrown over his head
+and he was hurried down the steps, across the muddy sidewalk, and into
+the waiting vehicle which had been driven up before the house. Once
+inside, Neil was safe from detection, for the hack, the shades drawn up
+before the windows, was as dark as Egypt. Neil sighed his relief,
+muttered a few perfunctory threats from behind the uncomfortable folds
+of the ill-smelling robe, and, with one fellow sitting on his chest and
+three others holding his legs, felt the carriage start.
+
+Despite the enveloping folds about his head he could hear quite well;
+hear the horses' feet go _squish-squash_ in the mud; hear the carriage
+creak on its aged hinges; hear the shriek of a distant locomotive as
+they approached the railroad. His captors were congratulating
+themselves on the success of their venture.
+
+"Easier than I thought it'd be," said one, and at the reply Neil
+figuratively pricked up his ears.
+
+"Pshaw, I knew we'd have no trouble; Livingston was so cock-sure that we
+wouldn't try it that he'd probably forgotten all about it. I guess that
+conceited little fool Fletcher will talk out of the other side of his
+mouth for a while now. What do you think? He had the nerve to tell me
+last week that he guessed _he_ could prevent a kidnaping, as there were
+only about a hundred of us sophs!"
+
+The others laughed.
+
+"Well, he is a chesty young kid, isn't he?" asked a third speaker. "I
+guess it's just as well we didn't have to kidnap _him_, eh? By the way,
+our friend here seems ill at ease. Maybe we'd better get off of him now
+and give him a breath of air. We don't want a corpse on our hands."
+
+The sophomores found seats and the robe was unwound from about Neil's
+head, much to that youth's delight. He took a good long breath and,
+grinning enjoyably in the darkness, settled himself to make the best of
+his predicament. Now that he had discovered Tom Cowan to be one of his
+abductors, he was filled with such glee that he found it hard work to
+keep silent. But he did, and all the gibes of his captors, uttered in
+quite the most polite language imaginable, failed to elicit a reply.
+
+"Beautiful evening for a drive, is it not?" asked one.
+
+"I trust you had not planned to attend the freshman dinner to-night?"
+asked another. "For I fear we shall be late in reaching home."
+
+"You are quite comfortable? Is there any particular road you would like
+to drive? any part of our lovely suburbs you care to visit?"
+
+"Surly brute!" growled a fourth, who was Cowan. "Let's make him speak,
+eh? Let's twist his arm a bit."
+
+"You sit still or I'll punch your thick head," said the first speaker
+coldly. "What I dislike about you, Cowan, is that you are never able to
+forget that you're a mucker. I wish you'd try," he continued wearily,
+"it's so monotonous."
+
+Cowan was silent an instant; then laughed uncertainly.
+
+"I suppose you fancy you're a wit, Baker," he said, "but I think you're
+mighty tiresome."
+
+"Don't let it trouble you," was the calm reply. Some one laughed
+drowsily. Then there was silence save for the sound of the horses' feet,
+the complaining of the well-worn hack and the occasional voice of the
+driver outside on the box. Neil began to feel rather drowsy himself; the
+motion was lulling, and now that they had crossed the railroad-track and
+reached the turnpike along the river, the carriage traveled smoothly. It
+was black night outside now, and through the nearest window at which the
+curtain had been lowered Neil could see nothing save an occasional
+light in some house. He didn't know where he was being taken, and didn't
+much care. They rolled steadily on for half an hour longer, during which
+time two at least of his captors proclaimed their contentment by loud
+snoring. Then the carriage slowed down, the sleeping ones were awakened,
+and a moment later a flood of light entering the window told Neil that
+the journey was at an end.
+
+"Far as we go," said some one. "All out here and take the car ahead!" A
+door was opened, two of his captors got out, and Neil was politely
+invited to follow. He did so. Before him was the open door of a
+farm-house from which the light streamed hospitably. It was still
+drizzling, and Neil took shelter on the porch unchallenged; now that the
+abductors had got him some five miles from Centerport, they were not so
+attentive. The others came up the steps and the carriage was led away
+toward the barn.
+
+"If your Excellency will have the kindness to enter the house," said
+Baker, with low obeisance, "he will find accommodations which, while far
+from befitting your Excellency's dignity, are, unfortunately, the best
+at our command."
+
+Neil accepted the invitation silently, and entering the doorway, found
+himself in a well-lighted room wherein a table was set for supper. The
+others followed, Cowan grinning from ear to ear in anticipation of the
+victim's discomfiture. In his eagerness he was the first to catch sight
+of Neil's face. With a howl of surprise he sprang back, almost
+upsetting Baker.
+
+"What's the matter with you?" cried the latter. Cowan made no answer,
+but stared stupidly at Neil.
+
+"Eh? What?" Baker sprang forward and wheeled their victim into the
+light. Neil turned and faced them smilingly. The four stared in
+bewilderment. It was Baker who first found words.
+
+"_Well, I'll--be--hanged_!" he murmured.
+
+Neil turned placidly to the discomfited Cowan.
+
+"You see, Cowan," he said sweetly, "one against a hundred isn't such big
+odds, after all, is it?"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+THE BROKEN TRICYCLE
+
+As soon as Livingston heard the kidnapers staggering down-stairs with
+their burden he unlocked the bed-room door and stole to the window. He
+saw Neil, his head hidden by the carriage robe, thrust into the hack and
+driven away, and saw the conspirators for whom the vehicle afforded no
+room separate and disappear in the gathering darkness. Livingston's
+emotions were varied: admiration for Neil's harebrained but successful
+ruse, distaste for the sorry part taken by himself in the affair, and
+amusement over the coming amazement and discomfiture of the enemy were
+mingled. In the end delight in the frustration of the sophomores' plan
+gained the ascendency, and he resolved that although Neil would miss the
+freshman dinner he should have it made up to him.
+
+And so in his speech an hour or so later Fanwell Livingston told the
+astonished company of the attempted kidnaping and of its failure, and
+never before had Odd Fellows' Hall rang with such laughter and cheering.
+And a little knot of sophomores, already bewildered by the appearance
+of the freshman president on the scene, were more than ever at a loss.
+They stood under an awning across the street, some twenty or thirty of
+them, and asked each other what it meant. Content with the supposed
+success of the abduction, they had made no attempt to prevent the
+dinner. And now Livingston, who by every law of nature should be five
+miles out in the country, was presiding at the feast and moving his
+audience to the wildest applause.
+
+"But I helped put him in the hack!" Carey cried over and over.
+
+"And I saw it drive off with him!" marveled another.
+
+"And if that's Livingston, where's Baker, and Morton, and Cowan, and
+Dyer?" asked the rest. And all shook their heads and gazed bewildered
+through the rain to where a raised window-shade gave them occasional
+glimpses of "Fan" Livingston, a fine figure in dinner jacket and white
+shirt bosom, leading the cheering.
+
+"_Rah-rah-rah, Rah-rah-rah, Rah-rah-rah, Fletcher_!"
+
+The group under the awning turned puzzled looks upon each other.
+
+"Who's Fletcher? What are they cheering Fletcher for?" was asked. But
+none could answer.
+
+But over in the hall it was different. Not a lad there, perhaps, but
+would have been glad to have exchanged places with the gallant
+confounder of sophomore plots, who was pictured in most minds as
+starving to death somewhere out in the rain, a captive in the ungentle
+hands of the enemy.
+
+However, starving Neil certainly was not. For at that very moment,
+seated at the hospitable board of Farmer Hutchins, he was helping
+himself to his fifth hot biscuit, and allowing Miss Hutchins, a
+red-cheeked and admiring young lady of fourteen years, to fill his
+teacup for the second time. From the role of prisoner Neil had advanced
+himself to the position of honored guest. For after the first
+consternation, bewilderment, and mortification had passed, his captors
+philosophically accepted the situation, and under the benign influence
+of cold chicken and hot soda biscuits found themselves not only able to
+display equanimity, but to join in the laugh against themselves and to
+admire the cleverness displayed in their out-witting. Of the four
+sophomores Cowan's laughter and praise alone rang false. But Neil was
+supremely indifferent to that youth's sentiments. The others he soon
+discovered to be thoroughly good fellows, and there is no doubt but that
+he enjoyed the hospitality of Farmer Hutchins more than he would have
+enjoyed the freshman class dinner.
+
+At nine o'clock the drive back to Centerport began, and as the horses
+soon found that they were headed toward home the journey occupied
+surprisingly little time, and at ten Neil was back in his room awaiting
+the return of Paul. To Neil's surprise that gentleman was at first
+decidedly grumpy.
+
+"You might have let me into it," he grumbled.
+
+But Neil explained and apologized until at length peace was restored.
+Then he had to tell Paul all about it from first to last, and Paul
+laughed until he choked; "I--I just wish--wish I had--seen Cowan's--face
+when--he--found it--out!" he shrieked.
+
+One result of that night's adventure was that the Class of 1905 was
+never thereafter bothered in the slightest degree by the sophomores; it
+appeared to be the generally accepted verdict that the freshmen had
+established their right to immunity from all molestation. Another result
+was that Neil became a class hero and a college notable. Younger
+freshmen pointed him out to each other in admiring awe; older and more
+influential ones went out of their way to claim recognition from him;
+sophomores viewed him with more than passing interest, and upper-class
+men predicted for him a brilliant college career. Even the Dean, when he
+passed Neil the following afternoon and returned his bow, allowing
+himself something almost approaching a grin. Neil, however, bore his
+honors modestly even while acknowledging to himself the benefit of them.
+He learned that his chances of making a certain society, membership in
+which was one of his highest ambitions, had been more than doubled, and
+was glad accordingly. (He was duly elected and underwent rigorous
+initiation proudly and joyfully.)
+
+The kidnaping affair even affected his football standing, for Mills and
+Devoe and Simson, the trainer, spoke or looked applause, while the head
+coach thereafter displayed quite a personal interest in him. Several
+days subsequent to the affair Neil was taking dummy practise with the
+rest of the second eleven. Mills had appropriated the invention of a
+Harvard trainer, rigging the dummy with hook and eye-bolt, so that when
+properly tackled the stuffed canvas effigy of a Robinson player became
+detached from its cable and fell on to the soft loam much after the
+manner of a human being. But to bring the dummy from the hook
+necessitated the fiercest of tackling, and many fellows failed at this.
+To-day Neil was one of this number. Twice the dummy, bearing upon its
+breast the brown R of Robinson, had sped away on its twenty-foot flight,
+and twice Neil had thrown himself upon it without bringing it down. As
+he arose after the second attempt and brushed the soil from his trousers
+Mills "went for him."
+
+"You're very ladylike, Fletcher, but as this isn't crewel-work or
+crochet you'll oblige me by being so rude as to bring that dummy off.
+Now, once more; put some snap into it! Get your hold, find your
+purchase, and then throw! Just imagine it's a sophomore, please."
+
+The roar of laughter that followed restored some of Neil's confidence,
+and, whether he deceived himself into momentarily thinking the dummy a
+sophomore, he tackled finely, brought the canvas figure from the hook,
+and triumphantly sat on the letter R.
+
+Signal practise followed work at the dummy that afternoon, and last of
+all the varsity and second teams had their daily line-up. Neil, however,
+did not get into this. Greatly to his surprise and disappointment
+McCullough took his place at left half, and Neil sat on the bench and
+aggrievedly watched the lucky ones peeling off their sweaters in
+preparation for the fray. But idleness was not to be his portion, for a
+moment later Mills called to him:
+
+"Here, take this ball, go down there to the fifteen-yard line, and try
+drop-kicking. Keep a strict count, and let me know how many tries you
+had and how many times you put it over the goal."
+
+Neil took the ball and trotted off to the scene of his labors, greatly
+comforted. Kicking goals from the fifteen-yard line didn't sound very
+difficult, and he set to work resolved to distinguish himself. But
+drop-kicks were not among Neil's accomplishments, and he soon found that
+the cross-bar had a way of being in the wrong place at the critical
+moment. At first it was hard to keep from turning his head to watch the
+progress of the game, but presently he became absorbed in his work. As a
+punter he had been somewhat of a success at Hillton, but drop-kicking
+had been left to the full-back, and consequently it was unaccustomed
+work. The first five tries went low, and the next four went high enough
+but wide of the goal. The next one barely cleared the cross-bar, and
+Neil was hugely tickled. The count was then ten tries and one goal. He
+got out of the way in order to keep from being ground to pieces by the
+struggling teams, and while he stood by and watched the varsity make its
+first touch-down, ruminated sadly upon the report he would have to
+render to Mills.
+
+But a long acquaintance with footballs had thoroughly dispelled Neil's
+awe of them, and he returned to his labor determined to better his
+score. And he did, for when the teams trotted by him on their way off
+the field and Mills came up, he was able to report 38 tries, of which 12
+were goals.
+
+"Not bad," said the coach. "That'll do for to-day. But whenever you find
+a football, and don't know what to do with it, try drop-kicking. Your
+punting is very good, and there's no reason why you shouldn't learn to
+kick from drop or placement as well. Take my advice and put your heart
+and brain and muscle into it, for, while we've got backs that can buck
+and hurdle and run, we haven't many that can be depended on to kick a
+goal, and we'll need them before long."
+
+Neil trotted out to the locker-house with throbbing heart. Mills had as
+good as promised him his place. That is, if he could learn to kick
+goals. The condition didn't trouble Neil, however; he _could_ learn to
+drop-kick and he _would_ learn, he told himself exultantly as he panted
+under the effects of a cold shower-bath. For a moment the wild idea of
+rising at unchristian hours and practising before chapel occurred to
+him, but upon maturer thought was given up. No, the only thing to do was
+to follow Mills's advice: "Put your heart and brain and muscle into it,"
+the coach had said. Neil nodded vigorously and rubbed himself so hard
+with the towel as to almost take the skin off. He was late in leaving
+the house that evening, and as all the fellows he knew personally had
+already taken their departure, he started back toward the campus alone.
+Near the corner of King Street he glanced up and saw something a short
+distance ahead that puzzled him. It looked at first like a cluster of
+bicycles with a single rider. But as the rider was motionless Neil soon
+came up to him.
+
+On nearer view he saw that the object was in reality a tricycle, and
+that it held beside the rider a pair of crutches which lay in supports
+lengthwise along one side. The machine was made to work with the hands
+instead of the feet, and a bow-shaped piece of steel which fitted around
+the operator's knee served as steering apparatus. The youth who sat
+motionless on the seat was a rather pale-faced, frail-looking lad of
+eighteen years, and it needed no second glance to tell Neil that he was
+crippled from his waist down. As Neil approached he was pulling the
+handles to and fro and looking perplexedly at the gear. The tricycle
+refused to budge.
+
+"I guess you've broken down," said Neil, approaching. "Stay where you
+are and I'll have a look."
+
+"Thanks, but you needn't bother," said the lad.
+
+But Neil was already on his knees. The trouble was soon found; the chain
+had broken and for the present was beyond repair.
+
+"But the wheels will go round, just the same," said Neil cheerfully.
+"Keep your seat and I'll push you back. Where do you room?"
+
+"Walton," was the answer. "But I don't like to bother you, Mr. Fletcher.
+You see I have my crutches here, and I can get around very well
+on them."
+
+"Nonsense, there's no use in your walking all the way to Walton. Here,
+I'll take the chain off and play horse. By the way, how'd you know
+my name?"
+
+"Oh, every one knows you since that kidnaping business," laughed the
+other, beginning to forget some of his shyness. "And besides I've heard
+the coach speak to you at practise."
+
+"Oh," said Neil, who was now walking behind the tricycle and pushing it
+before him, "then you've been out to the field, eh?"
+
+"Yes, I like to watch practise. I go out very nearly every day."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"Come to think of it, I believe I've seen you there," said Neil. "It's
+wonderful how you can get around on this machine as you do. Isn't it
+hard work at times?"
+
+"Rather, on grades, you know. But on smooth roads it goes very easily;
+besides, I've worked it every day almost for so long that I've got a
+pretty good muscle now. My father had this one made for me only two
+months ago to use here at Erskine. The last machine I had was very much
+heavier and harder to manage."
+
+"I guess being so light has made it weak," said Neil, "or it wouldn't
+have broken down like this."
+
+"Oh, I fancy that was more my fault than the tricycle's," answered the
+boy. As Neil was behind him he did not see the smile that accompanied
+the words.
+
+"Well, I'll take you home and then wheel the thing down to the bicycle
+repair-shop near the depot, eh?"
+
+"Oh, no, indeed," protested the other. "I'll--I'll have them send up for
+it. I wouldn't have you go way down there with it for anything."
+
+"Pshaw! that's no walk; besides, if you have them send, it will be some
+time to-morrow afternoon before you get it back."
+
+"I sha'n't really need it before then," answered the lad earnestly.
+
+"You might," said Neil. There was such a tone of finality in the reply
+that the boy on the seat yielded, but for an instant drew his face into
+a pucker of perplexity.
+
+"Thank you," he said; "it's awfully nice of you to take so much
+trouble."
+
+"I can't see that," Neil replied. "I don't see how I could do any less.
+By the way, what's your name, if you don't mind?"
+
+"Sydney Burr."
+
+"Burr? That's why you were stuck there up the road," laughed Neil.
+"We're in the same class, aren't we?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+At the middle entrance of Walton Hall Neil helped Burr on to his
+crutches, and would have assisted him up the steps had he not objected.
+
+"Please don't," he said, flushing slightly. "I can get up all right; I
+do it every day. My room's on this floor, too. I'm awfully much obliged
+to you for what you've done. I wish you'd come and see me some time--No.
+3. Do you--do you think you could?"
+
+"Of course," Neil answered heartily, "I'll be glad to. Three, you said?
+All right. I'll take this nag down to the blacksmith's now and get him
+reshod. If they can fix him right off I'll bring him back with me. Where
+do you stable him?"
+
+"The janitor takes it down-stairs somewhere. If I'm not here just give
+it to him, please. I wish, though, you wouldn't bother about bringing
+it back."
+
+"I'll ride him back," laughed Neil. "Good-night."
+
+"Good-night. Don't forget you're coming to see me."
+
+Sydney Burr smiled and, turning, climbed the steps with astonishing
+ease, using his crutches with a dexterity born of many years' dependence
+upon them. His lower limbs, slender and frail, swung from side to side,
+mere useless appendages. Neil sighed as he saw his new acquaintance out
+of sight, and then started on his errand with the tricycle.
+
+"Poor duffer!" he muttered. "And yet he seems cheerful enough, and looks
+happy. But to think of having to creep round on stilts or pull himself
+about on this contrivance! I mustn't forget to call on him; I dare say
+he hasn't many friends. He seems a nice chap, too; and he'd be
+frightfully good-looking if he wasn't so white."
+
+It was almost dark when he reached the repair-shop near the railroad,
+and the proprietor, a wizened little bald-headed man, was preparing
+to go home.
+
+"Can't fix anything to-night," he protested shrilly. "It's too late;
+come in the morning."
+
+"Well, if you think I'm going to wheel this thing back here to-morrow
+you've missed your guess," said Neil. "All it needs is to have a chain
+link welded or glued or something; it won't take five minutes. And the
+fellow that owns it is a cripple and can't go out until this machine's
+fixed. Now go ahead, like a good chap; I'll hold your bonnet."
+
+"Eh? What bonnet?" The little man stared perplexedly.
+
+"I meant I'd help," answered Neil unabashed.
+
+"Help! Huh! Lot's of help, you'd be to any one! Well, let's see it." He
+knelt and inspected the tricycle, grumbling all the while and shaking
+his head angrily. "Who said it was broke?" he demanded presently. "Queer
+kind of break; looks like you'd pried the link apart with a
+cold-chisel."
+
+"Well, I didn't; nor with a hot chisel. Besides, I've just told you it
+didn't belong to me. Do I look like a cripple?"
+
+"More like a fool," answered the other with a chuckle.
+
+"You're a naughty old man," said Neil sorrowfully, "and if you were my
+father I'd spank you." The other was too angry to find words, and
+contented himself with bending back the damaged link and emitting a
+series of choking sounds which Neil rightly judged to be expressions of
+displeasure. When the repair was finished he pushed the machine angrily
+toward the boy.
+
+"Take it and get out," he said.
+
+"Thanks. How much?"
+
+"Fifty cents," was the reply, given with a toothless grin and a chuckle.
+"Twenty-five cents for the job and twenty-five cents for working
+after hours."
+
+"Cheap enough," answered Neil, laying a quarter on the bench. "That's
+for the job; I'll owe you the rest."
+
+When he reached the first corner the proprietor of the repair-shop was
+still calling him names and shaking his fist in the air.
+
+"Looked just like a he-witch or something," chuckled Neil, as he
+propelled his steed toward the campus. "Maybe he will put a curse upon
+me and my right foot will wither up and I won't be able to kick goals!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+NEIL MAKES THE VARSITY
+
+On the 12th of October, Woodby College sent a team of light but very
+fast football players to Erskine with full determination to bring back
+the pigskin. And it very nearly succeeded. It was the first game of the
+season for Erskine, but Woodby had already played two, and was
+consequently rather more hardened. The first half ended with the score 6
+to 6, and the spectators, fully three hundred supporters of the Purple,
+looked glum. Neil and Paul were given their chance in the second half,
+taking the places of Gillam and Smith. Many other changes were made,
+among them one which installed the newly discovered Browning at left
+guard vice Carey, removed to the bench.
+
+There was no use in attempting to disguise the fact that Woodby
+literally played all around the home team. Her backs gained almost at
+will on end runs, and her punting was immeasurably superior. Foster, the
+Erskine quarter-back, sent kick after kick high into the air, and twenty
+yards was his best performance. On defense Woodby was almost equally
+strong, and had Erskine not outweighted her in the line some five pounds
+per man, would have forced her to kick every time. As it was, the
+purple-clad backs made but small and infrequent gains through the line,
+and very shortly found that runs outside of tackle or end were her best
+cards, even though, as was several times the case, her runners were
+nailed back of her line for losses.
+
+Team play was as yet utterly lacking in the Erskine eleven, and though
+the men were as a rule individually brilliant or decidedly promising,
+Woodby had far the best of it there. Fumbles were many on both sides,
+but Erskine's were the most costly. Stone's fumble of a free kick soon
+after the second half began gave Woodby her second touch-down, from
+which, luckily, she failed to kick goal. The veterans on the team,
+Tucker at left tackle, Graham at center, Cowan at right-guard, Foster at
+quarter, and Devoe at right end, played well with the glaring exception
+of Cowan, whose work in the second half especially was so slipshod that
+Mills, with wrath in his eye, took him out and put in Bell, a second
+eleven man.
+
+With the score 11 to 6 against her, Erskine braced up and fought
+doggedly to score. Neil proved the best ground-gainer, and made several
+five-and ten-yard runs around right end. Once, with the ball on Woodby's
+twelve yards and the audience shouting vehemently for a touch-down,
+Foster called on Paul for a plunge through right tackle. Paul made two
+yards, but in some manner lost the ball, a fumble that put Erskine back
+on her fifty-yard line and that sent her hopes of tying the score
+down to zero.
+
+The second half was to be but fifteen minutes long, and fully ten of the
+fifteen had gone by when Erskine took up her journey toward Woodby's
+goal again. Mason, the full-back, and Neil were sent plunging, bucking,
+hurdling at the enemy's breastworks, and time after time just managed to
+gain their distance in the three downs. Fortune was favoring Erskine,
+and Woodby's lighter men were slower and slower in finding their
+positions after each pile-up. Then, with the pigskin on Woodby's
+twenty-eight yards, Neil was given the ball for a try outside of right
+tackle, and by brilliantly leaving his interference, which had become
+badly tangled up, got safely away and staggered over the line just at
+the corner. The punt-out was a success and Devoe kicked goal, making the
+score 12 to 11 in Erskine's favor. For the rest of the half the home
+team was satisfied to keep Woodby away from its goal, and made no effort
+to score. Woodby left the field after the fashion of victors, which,
+practically, they were, while the Erskine players trotted subduedly back
+to the locker-house with unpleasant anticipations of what was before
+them--anticipations fully justified by subsequent events. For Mills tore
+them up very eloquently, and promised them that if they were scored on
+by the second eleven before the game with Harvard he'd send every man
+of them to the benches and take the second to Cambridge.
+
+Neil walked back to college beside Sydney Burr, insisting that that
+youth should take his hands from the levers and be pushed. Paul had got
+into the habit of always accompanying Cowan on his return from the
+field, and as Neil liked the big sophomore less and less the more he saw
+of him, he usually fell back on either Ted Foster or Sydney Burr for
+company. To-day it was Sydney. On the way that youth surprised Neil by
+his intelligent discussion and criticism of the game he had
+just watched.
+
+"How on earth did you get to know so much about football?" asked Neil.
+"You talk like a varsity coach."
+
+"Do I?" said Sydney, flushing with pleasure. "I--I always liked the
+game, and I've studied it quite a bit and watched it all I could. Of
+course, I can never play, but I get a good deal of enjoyment out of it.
+Sometimes"--his shyness returned momentarily and he hesitated--"sometimes
+I make believe that I'm playing, you know; put myself, in imagination,
+in the place of one of the team. To-day I--to-day I was you," he added
+with a deprecatory laugh.
+
+"You don't say?" cried Neil. Then the pathos of it struck him and he was
+silent a moment. The cripple's love and longing for sport in which he
+could never hope to join seemed terribly sad and gave him a choking
+sensation in his throat.
+
+"If I had been--like other fellows," continued Sydney, quite cheerfully,
+"I should have played everything--football, baseball, hockey,
+tennis--everything! I'd give--anything I've got--if I could just run
+from here to the corner." He was silent a minute, looking before him
+with eyes from which the usual brightness was gone. Then, "My, it must
+be good to run and walk and jump around just as you want to," he sighed.
+
+"Yes," muttered Neil, "but--but that was a good little run you made
+to-day." Sydney looked puzzled, then laughed.
+
+"In the game, you mean? Yes, wasn't it? And I made a touch-down and won
+the game. I was awfully afraid at one time that that Woodby quarter-back
+was going to nab me; that's why I made for the corner of the field
+like that."
+
+"I fancied that was the reason," answered Neil gravely. Then their eyes
+met and they laughed together.
+
+"Your friend Gale didn't play so well to-day," said Sydney presently.
+Neil shook his head with a troubled air.
+
+"No, he played rotten ball, and that's a fact. I don't know what's got
+into him of late. He doesn't seem to care whether he pleases Mills or
+not. I think it's that chap Cowan. He tells Paul that Mills and Devoe
+are imposing on him and that he isn't getting a fair show and all that
+sort of stuff. Know Cowan?"
+
+"Only by sight. I don't think I'd care to know him; he looks a good deal
+like--like--"
+
+"Just so," laughed Neil. "That's the way he strikes me."
+
+After dinner that evening Paul bewailed what he called his ill luck.
+Neil listened patiently for a while; then--
+
+"Look here, Paul," he said, "don't talk such rot. Luck had nothing to do
+with it, and you know it. The trouble was that you weren't in shape;
+you've been shilly-shallying around of late and just doing good enough
+work to keep Mills from dropping you to the scrub. It's that miserable
+idiot Tom Cowan that's to blame; he's been filling your head with
+nonsense; telling you that you are so good that you don't have to
+practise, and that Mills doesn't dare drop you, and lots of poppycock of
+that kind. Now, I'll tell you, chum, that the best thing to do is to go
+honestly to work and do your best."
+
+Paul was deeply insulted by this plain speaking, and very promptly took
+himself off up-stairs to Cowan's room. Of late he spent a good deal of
+his time there and Neil was getting worried. For Cowan was notably an
+idler, and the wonder was how he managed to keep himself in college even
+though he was taking but a partial course. To be sure, Cowan's fate
+didn't bother Neil a bit, but he was greatly afraid that his example
+would be followed by his roommate, who, at the best, was none too fond
+of study. Neil sat long that evening over an unopened book, striving to
+think of some method of weakening Cowan's hold on Paul--a hold that was
+daily growing stronger and which threatened to work ill to the latter.
+In the end Neil sighed, tossed down the volume, and made ready for bed
+without having found a solution of the problem.
+
+The following Monday Neil was rewarded for his good showing in the
+Woodby game by being taken on to the varsity. Paul remained on the
+second team, and Cowan, greatly to that gentleman's bewilderment and
+wrath, joined him there. The two teams, with their substitutes, went to
+training-table that day in Pearson's boarding-house on Elm Street, and
+preparation for the game with Harvard, now but nine days distant, began
+in earnest.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+THE RESULT OF A FUMBLE
+
+Sydney Burr had trundled himself out to the field and had drawn his
+tricycle close up to the low wooden fence that divides the gridiron from
+the grand stand and against which the players on the benches lean their
+blanketed backs. From there he had an uninterrupted view. It was a
+perfect afternoon. Overhead a few white clouds drifted lazily about
+against a warm blue sky. The sun shone brightly and mocked at light
+overcoats. But for all that there was an October sparkle in the air, and
+once in a while a tiny breeze from the north came across the yellowing
+field and whispered that winter was not far behind.
+
+Sydney had a rug thrown over his lower limbs and wore a warm white
+woolen sweater. There was quite a dash of color in his usually pale
+cheeks, and his blue eyes flashed with interest as he watched the men at
+practise. Near at hand a panting group of fellows were going through the
+signals, the quarter crying his numbers with gasps for breath, then
+passing the ball to half-or full-back and quickly throwing himself into
+the interference. Sydney recognized him as Bailey, the varsity
+substitute. Sydney knew almost all the players by sight now and the
+names of many.
+
+Near the east goal two lines of heaving, charging men were being coached
+by Mills in breaking through. Stowell, the big, good-natured substitute
+center, was bending over the ball. Sydney could hear Mills's
+sharp voice:
+
+"Now draw back, defense, and lunge into them! Get the start on them!"
+
+Then the ball was snapped and the two ranks heaved and pitched a moment
+before the offense broke through and scattered the turf with little
+clumps of writhing players.
+
+"That was good, Tucker, good!" cried Mills. "You did just as I told you.
+Now give the ball to the other side. Weight forward, defense, every one
+of you on his toes. _Browning, watch that ball!_ Now get into them,
+every one! Block them!"
+
+At the other end of the field six fellows were kicking goal and six
+others, stretched upon the turf, were holding the balls for them. Devoe
+was coaching. Sydney could see Neil, the farthest away of any, lifting
+the leather toward the posts from a difficult angle on the twenty-yard
+line. Even as he watched, the ball sailed away from Neil's toe and went
+fair over the cross-bar, and Sydney silently applauded. He set himself
+to recognizing the other kickers. There was Gale, the tall and rather
+heavy fellow in the crimson sleeves; and Mason, equally tall but all
+corners and angles; and Smith, and Gillam, and Foster. Devoe seemed to
+be laying down the law forcibly to Gale; he was gesticulating with his
+hands and nodding his head like a Chinese mandarin. Sydney could not
+hear what he was saying, nor could he see Gale's face; but in the
+attitude of the captain there was exasperation, and in that of Gale
+sullen impatience.
+
+Another group at signal practise drew nigh, and Sydney gave his
+attention to it. Reardon, the second eleven quarter, sang his signals in
+a queer, shrill voice that was irresistibly funny. In front of Sydney he
+raised himself, wiped his palms on his stained trousers, grimaced at one
+of the halves, and took a deep breath. Then--
+
+"_Signal_!" he cried. "_7--8--4--6!_"
+
+Eight half bounded by him, full-back fell in behind and took the ball,
+left half dashed after, and the group trotted away to line up again ten
+yards down the field. But presently the lines at the east goal broke up
+and trotted toward the benches, and Mills called the players in from all
+parts of the field. The water-pail was surrounded and the thirsty
+players rinsed out their mouths, well knowing the reprimand that awaited
+should they be rash enough to take even one swallow. Sweaters were
+hurriedly donned, Simson dealing them out from the pile on the ground,
+and the fellows sank on to the benches. Neil saw Sydney, and talked to
+him over the fence until he heard his name called from the line-up.
+
+"I think I shall make a touch-down to-day," said Sydney. Neil shook his
+head, smiling:
+
+"I don't know about that; you're not feeling so fit to-day, you know."
+
+"Oh, that doesn't matter," answered the cripple. "You just watch me."
+
+Neil laughed, and hurrying off, was fitted with his head harness and
+trotted out to his place. Sydney was mistaken, as events proved, for
+he--in the person of Neil Fletcher--failed to get over the second's
+goal-line in either of the short halves; which was also true of all the
+other varsity players. But if she didn't score, the varsity kept the
+second at bay, and that was a good deal. The second played desperately,
+being convinced that Mills would keep his promise and, if they succeeded
+in scoring on their opponents, give them the honor of facing Harvard the
+following Wednesday. But the varsity, being equally convinced of the
+fact, played quite as desperately, and the two teams trotted off with
+honors even.
+
+"Sponge off, everybody!" was the stentorian command from the trainer,
+and one by one the players leaned over while the big, dripping sponge
+was applied to face and head. Then sweaters were again donned and the
+four laps around the field began, the men trotting by twos and threes,
+or, in the case of the injured ones, trailing along behind.
+
+The next day, Wednesday, October 16th, Erskine played Dexter. Dexter is
+a preparatory school that has a way of turning out strong elevens, many
+of which in previous years had put up excellent fights against Erskine.
+On the present occasion Erskine went into the game with a line largely
+composed of substitutes and a back-field by no means as strong as
+possible. During the first half Dexter was forced to give all her
+attention to defending her goal, and had no time for incursions into
+Erskine territory. The home college ran up 17 points, Devoe missing one
+goal. In the second half Erskine made further changes in her team. Cowan
+took Witter's place at right-guard, Reardon went in at quarter in place
+of Bailey, and Neil, who had watched the first half greedily from the
+side-line, went in at left half.
+
+It was Dexter's kick-off, and she sent the ball fully forty yards.
+Reardon called to Neil to take it. That youth got it on his ten yards,
+and by fine dodging ran it back to the eighteen-yard line. From there it
+was advanced by straight line-plunging to Erskine's forty yards, and it
+seemed that a procession down the field to another touch-down had begun.
+But at this point Fate and Tom Cowan took a hand. Cowan was taken back
+of the line for a plunge through tackle. With right half and full lined
+up in tandem behind him he was given the ball and shot through easily
+for several yards. Then, his support gone, he staggered on for five
+yards more by sheer force of weight with two Dexter backs dragging at
+him, and there, for no apparent cause, dropped the pigskin. The Dexter
+quarter-back, running in to stop Cowan, was on it in a twinkling, had
+skirted the right end of the _melee_ and was racing toward Erskine's
+goal. It had happened so quickly and unexpectedly that the runner was
+fifteen yards to the good before pursuit began. Devoe and Neil took up
+the chase, but it was a hopeless task, and in another minute the little
+band of crimson-adorned Dexter supporters and substitutes on the
+side-line were yelling like mad. The Dexter quarter placed the ball
+nicely behind the very center of the west goal, and when it was taken
+out none but a cripple could have failed to kick it over the cross-bar.
+As Dexter's left-end was not a cripple her score changed from a 5 to
+a 6.
+
+But that was the end of her offensive work for that afternoon. Erskine
+promptly took the ball from her after the kick-off, and kept it until
+Neil had punctured Dexter's line between left-guard and tackle and waded
+through a sea of clutching foes twelve yards for a touch-down. Devoe
+once more failed at goal, and five minutes later the game came to an end
+with the final score 22 to 6. Dexter was happy and Erskine disgruntled.
+
+In the locker-house after the game Mills had some sharp things to say,
+and didn't hesitate to say them in his best manner. There was
+absolutely no favoritism shown; he began at one end of the line and went
+to the other, then dropped back to left half, took in quarter on the
+way, and ended up with full. Some got off easy; Neil was among them; and
+so was Devoe, for it is not a good policy for a coach to endanger a
+captain's authority by public criticism; but when it was all over no one
+felt slighted. And when all were beginning to breathe easier, thinking
+the storm had passed, it burst forth anew.
+
+"Cowan, I don't see how you came to drop that ball," said Mills, in
+fresh exasperation. "Why, great Scott, man, there was no one touching
+you except a couple of schoolboys tugging at your legs! What was the
+matter? Paralysis? Vertigo? Or haven't you learned yet, after two years
+of football playing, to hang on to the ball? There's a cozy nook waiting
+on the second scrub for fellows like you!"
+
+Cowan, his pride already sorely wounded, found the last too much for his
+temper.
+
+"No one can help an occasional accident," he blurted. "If I did fumble,
+there's no reason why you should insult me. Lots of fellows have fumbled
+before and got off without being walked on. I've played my position for
+two years, and I guess I know how to do it. But when a fellow is singled
+out as a--a scapegoat--"
+
+"That will do, Cowan," interrupted Mills quietly. "You've lost your
+temper. We don't want men on this team who can't stand criticism--"
+
+"Criticism!" sneered Cowan, looking very red and ugly.
+
+"Yes, criticism!" answered Mills sharply, "and scolding, too, my friend.
+I'm here to turn out a team that will win from Robinson and not to cater
+to any one's vanity; when it's necessary, I'm going to scold and say
+some hard things. But I've never insulted any fellow and I never will.
+I've had my eye on you ever since practise began, Cowan, and let me tell
+you that you haven't at any time passed muster; your playing's been
+slovenly, careless, and generally mean. You've soldiered half the time.
+And I think we can get along without you for the rest of the season."
+
+Mills, his blue eyes sparkling, turned away, and Stowell and White, who
+for a minute past had been striving to check Cowan's utterances, now
+managed to drag him away.
+
+"Shut up!" whispered White hoarsely. "Don't be a fool! Come out of
+here!" And they hauled him outside, where, on the porch, he gave vent
+anew to his wrath until they left him finally in disgust.
+
+He slouched in to see Paul after dinner that evening, much to Neil's
+impatience, and taking up a commanding position on a corner of the
+study-table, recited his tale of injustice with great eloquence. Paul,
+who had spent the afternoon with other unfortunates on the benches, was
+full of sympathy.
+
+"It's a dirty shame, Tom," he said. "And I'm glad you waded into Mills
+the way you did. It was fine!"
+
+"Little white-haired snake!" exclaimed Cowan. "Drops me from training
+just because I make a fumble! Why, you've fumbled, Paul, and so's
+Fletcher here; lots of times. But he doesn't lay _you_ off! Oh, dear,
+no; you're swells whose names will look well in the line-up for the
+Robinson game! But here I've played on the team for two years, and now
+off I go just because I dropped a ball. It's rank injustice!
+
+"I suppose he thinks I've got to play football here. If he does he's
+away off, that's all. I could have gone to Robinson this fall and had
+everything I wanted. They guaranteed me a position at guard or tackle,
+and I wouldn't have needed to bother with studies as I do here, either."
+The last remark called a smile to Neil's face, and Cowan unfortunately
+glanced his way and saw it.
+
+"I dare say if I was willing to toady to Mills and Devoe, and tell
+everybody they're the finest football leaders that ever came down the
+pike, it would be different," he sneered angrily. "Maybe then Mills
+would give me private instruction in goal-kicking and let me black his
+boots for him."
+
+Neil closed his book and leaned back in his chair, a little disk of red
+in each cheek.
+
+"Now, look here, Tom Cowan, let's have this out," he said quietly.
+"You're hitting at me, of course--"
+
+"Oh, keep out, chum," protested Paul. "Cowan hasn't mentioned you once."
+
+"He doesn't need to," answered Neil. "I understand without it. But let
+me tell you, Cowan, that I do not toady to either Mills or Devoe. I do
+treat them, however, as I would any one who was in authority over me. I
+don't think merely because I've played the game before that I know all
+the football there is to know."
+
+"Meaning that I do?" growled Cowan.
+
+"I mean that you've got a swelled head, Cowan, and that when Mills said
+you hadn't been doing your best he only told the truth, and what every
+fellow knows."
+
+"Shut up, Neil!" cried Paul angrily. "It isn't necessary for you to
+pitch into Cowan just because he's down on his luck."
+
+"I don't mind him," said Cowan, eying Neil with hatred. "He's sore about
+what I said. I dare say I shouldn't have said it. If he's Mills's
+darling--"
+
+Neil pushed back his chair, and rose to his feet with blazing eyes.
+
+"Kindly get out of here," he said. "I've had enough of your insults.
+This is my room; please leave it!" Cowan stared a moment in surprise,
+hesitated, threw a glance of inquiry at Paul's troubled and averted
+face, and slid from the table.
+
+"Of course you can put me out of your room," he sneered. "For that
+matter, I'm glad to leave it. I did think, though, that part of the shop
+was Paul's, but I dare say he has to humor you."
+
+"The room's as much mine as his," said Paul, "and I want you to stay in
+it." He looked defiantly over at his friend. Neil had not bargained for
+a quarrel with Paul, but was too incensed to back down.
+
+"And I say you sha'n't stay," he declared. "Paul and I will settle the
+proprietorship of the room after you're out of it. Now you get!"
+
+"Maybe you'll put me out?" asked Cowan with a show of bravado. But he
+glanced toward the door as he spoke. Neil nodded.
+
+"Maybe I will," he answered grimly.
+
+"Cowan's my guest, Neil!" cried Paul. "And you've no right to put him
+out, and I sha'n't let you!"
+
+"He'll go out of here, if I have to fight him and you too, Paul!" Paul
+stared in wonderment. He was so used to being humored by his roommate
+that this declaration of war took his breath away. Cowan laughed with
+attempted nonchalance.
+
+"Your friend's a bit chesty, Paul," he said. "Perhaps we'd better humor
+him."
+
+"No, stay where you are," said Paul. "If he thinks he's boss of me he's
+mistaken." He glared wrathfully at Neil, and yet with a trifle of
+uneasiness. Paul was no coward, but physical conflict with Neil was
+something so contrary to the natural order that it appalled him. Neil
+removed the gorgeous bottle-green velvet jacket that he wore in the
+evenings, and threw open the study door. Then he faced Cowan. That
+gentleman returned his gaze for a moment defiantly. But something in
+Neil's expression caused his eyes to drop and seek the portal. He
+laughed uneasily, and with simulated indifference laid his hand on
+Paul's shoulder.
+
+"Come on, old chap," he said, "let's get out before we're torn to bits.
+There's no pleasure in staying with such a disagreeable fire-eater,
+anyhow. Come up to my room, and let him cool off."
+
+Paul hesitated, and then turned to follow Cowan, who was strolling
+toward the door. Angry as he was, deep in his heart he was glad to avoid
+conflict with his chum.
+
+"All right," he answered in a voice that trembled, "we'll go;
+but"--turning to Neil--"if you think I'm going to put up with this sort
+of thing, you're mistaken. You can have this room, and I'll
+get another."
+
+"I'd suggest your rooming with Cowan," answered Neil, "since you're so
+fond of him."
+
+"Your friend's jealous," laughed Cowan from the hall. Paul joined him,
+slamming the door loudly as he went.
+
+Neil heard Cowan's laughter and the sound of their steps as they climbed
+the stairs. For several moments he stood motionless, staring at the
+door. Then he shook his head, donned his jacket, and sat down again. Now
+that it was done, he was intensely sorry. As for the quarrel with Cowan,
+that troubled not at all; but an open breach with Paul was something new
+and something which, just at this time especially, might work for ill.
+Paul was already so far under Cowan's domination that anything tending
+to foster their friendship was unfortunate. Neil was ashamed, too, of
+his burst of temper, and the remainder of the evening passed
+miserably enough.
+
+When Paul returned he was cold and repellent, and answered Neil's
+attempts at conversation in monosyllables. Neil, however, was glad to
+find that Paul said nothing further about a change of quarters, and in
+that fact found encouragement. After all, Paul would soon get over his
+anger, he told himself; the two had been firm friends for three years,
+and it would take something more than the present affair to
+estrange them.
+
+But as the days passed and Paul showed no disposition to make friends
+again, Neil began to despair. He knew that Cowan was doing all in his
+power to widen the breach and felt certain that left to himself Paul
+would have forgotten his grievance long ago. Paul spent most of his time
+in Cowan's room when at home, and Neil passed many dull hours. One thing
+there was, however, which pleased him. Cowan's absence from the field
+worked a difference from the first in Paul's playing, and the latter was
+now evidently putting his heart into his work. He made such a good
+showing between the day of Cowan's dismissal and the following Wednesday
+that he was scheduled to play right half against Harvard, and was
+consequently among the little army of players and supporters that
+journeyed to Cambridge on that day.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+ON THE HOSPITAL LIST
+
+Harvard's good showing thus far during the season convinced Erskine that
+could she hold the crimson warriors down to five scores she would be
+doing remarkably well, and that could she, by any miracle, cross
+Harvard's goal-line she would be practically victorious. The team that
+journeyed to Cambridge on October 23d was made up as follows:
+
+Stone, l.e.; Tucker, l.t.; Carey, l.g.; Stowell, c.; Witter, r.g.;
+White, r.t.; Devoe, r.e.; Foster, q.b.; Fletcher, l.h.b.; Gale, r.h.b.;
+Mason, f.b.
+
+Besides these, eight substitutes went along and some thirty patriotic
+students followed. Among the latter was Sydney Burr and "Fan"
+Livingston. Neil had brought the two together, and Livingston had
+readily taken to the crippled youth. In Livingston's care Sydney had no
+difficulty in making the trip to Soldiers Field and back comfortably
+and safely.
+
+There is no need to tell in detail here of the Harvard-Erskine contest.
+Those who saw it will give Erskine credit for a plucky struggle against
+a heavier, more advanced, and much superior team. In the first half
+Harvard scored three times, and the figures were 17-0. In the second
+half both teams put in several substitutes. For Erskine, Browning went
+in for Carey, Graham for Stowell, Hurst for Witter, Pearse for Mason,
+and Bailey for Foster. In this half Harvard crossed Erskine's goal-line
+three more times without much difficulty, while Erskine made the most of
+a stroke of rare good luck, and changed her goose-egg for the figure 5.
+
+On the Purple's forty yards Harvard fumbled, not for the first time that
+day, and Neil, more by accident than design, got the pigskin on the
+bounce, and, skirting the opposing right end, went up the field for a
+touch down without ever being in danger. The Erskine supporters went mad
+with delight, and the Harvard stand was ruefully silent. Devoe missed a
+difficult goal and a few minutes later the game ended with a final score
+of 34-5. Mills, however, would gladly have yielded that five points, if
+by so doing he could have taken ten from the larger score. He was
+disappointed in the team's defense, and realized that a wonderful
+improvement was necessary if Robinson was to be defeated.
+
+And so the Erskine players were plainly given to understand the next day
+that they had not acquired all the glory they thought they had. The
+advance guard of the assistant coaches put in an appearance in the shape
+of Jones and Preston, both old Erskine football men, and took hold with
+a vim. Jones, a former guard, a big man with bristling black hair, took
+the line men under his wing and made them jump. Neil, Paul, and several
+others were taken in hand by Preston, and were daily put through a
+vigorous course of punting and kicking. Neil was fast acquiring speed
+and certainty in the art of kicking goals from drop and placement, while
+Paul promised to turn out a fair second choice.
+
+Jones, as every one soon learned, was far from satisfied with the line
+of material at his disposal. He wanted more weight, especially in the
+center trio, and was soon pleading with Mills to have Cowan reinstated.
+The head coach ultimately relented, and Devoe was given to understand
+that if Cowan expressed himself decently regretful and determined to do
+good work he could go back into the second. The big sophomore, who, by
+his frequent avowals, was in college for no other purpose than to play
+football, had simply been lost since his dismissal, and, upon hearing
+Devoe's message, eagerly came off his high horse and made a visit to
+Mills. What he said and what Mills said is not known; but Cowan went
+back into the second team at right-guard, and on Saturday was given a
+try at that position in the game with Erstham. He did so well that Jones
+was highly pleased, and Mills found it in his heart to forgive. The
+results of the Erstham game were both unexpected and important.
+
+Instead of the comparatively easy victory anticipated, Erskine barely
+managed to save herself from being played to a standstill, and the final
+figures were 6-0 in her favor. The score was made in the last eight
+minutes of the second half by fierce line-bucking, but not before half
+of the purple line had given place to substitutes, and one of the
+back-field had been carried bodily off the gridiron.
+
+With the ball on Erstham's twenty-six yards, where it had been
+desperately carried by the relentless plunging and hurdling of Neil,
+Smith, and Mason, Erstham twice successfully repelled the onslaught, and
+it was Erskine's third down with two yards to gain. To lose the ball by
+kicking was the last thing to be thought of, and so, despite the fact
+that hitherto well-nigh every attempt at end running had met with
+failure, Foster gave the ball to Neil for a try around the Erstham left
+end. It was a forlorn hope, and unfortunately Erstham was looking for
+it. Neil found his outlet blocked by his own interference, and was
+forced to run far out into the field. The play was a failure from the
+first. Erstham's big right half and an equally big line man tackled Neil
+simultaneously for a loss and threw him heavily.
+
+When they got off him Neil tried to arise, but, with a groan, subsided
+again on the turf. The whistle blew and Simson ran on. Neil was
+evidently suffering a good deal of pain, for his face was ashen and he
+rolled his head from side to side with eyes half closed. His right arm
+lay outstretched and without movement, and in an instant the trouble was
+found. Simson examined the injury quickly and called for the doctor, who
+probed Neil's shoulder with knowing fingers, while the latter's white
+face was being sopped with the dripping sponge.
+
+"Right shoulder's dislocated, Jim," said Dr. Prentiss quietly to the
+trainer. "Take hold here; put your hands here, and pull toward you
+steadily. Now!"
+
+Then Neil fainted.
+
+When he regained consciousness he was being borne from the field between
+four of his fellows. At the locker-house the injured shoulder was laid
+bare, and the doctor went to work.
+
+The pain had subsided, and only a queer soreness remained. Neil watched
+operations with interest, his face fast regaining its color.
+
+"Nothing much, is it?" he asked.
+
+"Not a great deal. You've smashed your shoulder-blade a bit, and maybe
+torn a ligament. I'll fix you up in a minute."
+
+"Will it keep me from playing?"
+
+"Yes, for a while, my boy."
+
+Bandage after bandage was swathed about the shoulder, and the arm was
+fixed in what Neil conceived to be the most unnatural and awkward
+position possible.
+
+"How long is this going to lay me up?" he asked anxiously. But the
+doctor shook his head.
+
+"Can't tell yet. We'll see how you get along."
+
+"Well, a week?"
+
+"Maybe."
+
+"Two?"
+
+"Possibly."
+
+"But--but it can't! It mustn't!" he cried. The door opened and Simson
+entered. "Simson," he called, "he says this may keep me laid up for two
+weeks. It won't, will it?"
+
+"I hope not, Fletcher. But you must get it well healed, or else it may
+go back on you again. Don't worry about--"
+
+"Don't worry! But, great Scott, the Robinson game's only a month off!"
+
+The trainer patted his arm soothingly.
+
+"I know, but we must make the best of it. It's hard lines, but the only
+thing to do is to take care of yourself and get well as soon as
+possible. The doc will get you out again as soon as it can be done, but
+you'll have to be doing your part, Fletcher, and keeping quiet and
+cheerful--"
+
+"Cheerful!" groaned Neil.
+
+"And getting strong. Now you're fixed and I'll go over to your room with
+you. How do you feel?"
+
+"All right, I suppose," replied Neil hopelessly.
+
+Simson walked beside him back to college and across the campus and the
+common to his room, and saw him installed in an easy-chair with a pillow
+behind the injured shoulder.
+
+"There you are," said the trainer. "Prentiss will look in this evening
+and I'll see you in the morning. You'd better keep indoors for a few
+days, you know. I'll have your meals sent over. Don't worry about this,
+but keep yourself cheerful and--"
+
+Neil leaned his head against the pillow and closed his eyes.
+
+"Oh, go 'way," he muttered miserably.
+
+When Paul came in half an hour later he found Neil staring motionless
+out of the window, settled melancholy on his face.
+
+"How bad is it, chum?" asked Paul. He hadn't called Neil "chum" for over
+a week--not since their quarrel.
+
+"Bad enough to spoil my chances for the Robinson game," answered Neil
+bitterly. Paul gave vent to a low whistle.
+
+"By Jove! I am sorry, old chap. That's beastly, isn't it? What does
+Prentiss say?"
+
+Neil told him and gained some degree of animation in fervid protestation
+against his fate. For want of another, he held the doctor to account for
+everything, only admitting Simson to an occasional share in the blame.
+Paul looked genuinely distressed, joining him in denunciation of
+Prentiss and uttering such bits of consolation as occurred to him. These
+generally consisted of such original remarks as "Perhaps it won't be as
+bad as they think." "I don't believe doctors know everything, after
+all." "Mills will make them get you around before two weeks, I'll bet."
+
+After dinner Paul returned to report a state of general gloom at
+training-table.
+
+"Every one's awfully sorry and cut up about it, chum. Mills says he'll
+come and look you up in the morning, and told me to tell you to keep
+your courage up." After his information had given out, Paul walked
+restlessly about the study, taking up book after book only to lay it
+down again, and behaving generally like a fish out of water. Neil,
+grateful for the other's sympathy, and secretly delighted at the healing
+of the breach, could afford to be generous.
+
+"I say, Paul, I'll be all right. Just give me the immortal Livy, will
+you? Thanks. And you might put that tray out of the way somewhere and
+shove the drop-light a bit nearer. That's better. I'll be all right now;
+you run along."
+
+"Run along where?" asked Paul.
+
+"Well, I thought maybe you were going out or--somewhere."
+
+Paul's face expressed astonishment. He took up a book and settled
+himself firmly in the wicker rocking-chair.
+
+"No," he said, "I'm not going anywhere."
+
+Neil studied in silence a while, and Paul turned several pages of his
+book. Then footsteps sounded on the stairs and Cowan's voice hailed Paul
+from beyond the closed door.
+
+"O Paul, are you coming along?"
+
+Paul glanced irresolutely from the door to Neil's face, which was bent
+calmly over his book. Then--"No," he called gruffly, "not to-night!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+SYDNEY STUDIES STRATEGY
+
+Neil was holding a levee. Livingston shared the couch with him. Foster
+reclined in Paul's armchair. Sydney Burr sat in the protesting wicker
+rocker, his crutches beside him, and South, his countenance much
+disfigured by strips of surgeon's plaster, grinned steadily from the
+table, where he sat and swung his feet. Paul was up-stairs in Cowan's
+room, for while he and Neil had quite made up their difference, and
+while Paul spent much of his leisure time with his chum, yet he still
+cultivated the society of the big sophomore at intervals. Neil, however,
+believed he could discern a gradual lessening of Paul's regard for
+Cowan, and was encouraged. He had grown to look upon his injury and the
+idleness it enforced with some degree of cheerfulness since it had
+brought about reconciliation between him and his roommate, and, as he
+believed, rescued the latter to some extent from the influence of Cowan.
+
+"Doc says the shoulder is 'doing nicely,' whatever that may mean," Neil
+was saying, "and that I will likely be able to get back to light work
+next week." The announcement didn't sound very joyful, for it was now
+only the evening of the fourth day since the accident, and "next week"
+seemed a long way off to him.
+
+"It was hard luck, old man," said South.
+
+"Your sympathy's very dear to me," answered Neil, "but it would seem
+more genuine if you'd stop grinning from ear to ear."
+
+"Can't," replied South. "It's the plaster."
+
+"He's been looking like the Cheshire cat for two days," said Livingston.
+"You see, when they patched him up they asked if he was suffering much
+agony, and he grinned that way just to show that he was a hero, and
+before he could get his face straight they had the plaster on. He gets
+credit for being much better natured than he really is."
+
+"Credit!" said South. "I get worse than that. 'Sandy' saw me grinning at
+him in class yesterday and got as mad as a March hare; said I was
+'deesrespectful.'"
+
+"But how did it happen?" asked Neil, struggling with his laughter.
+
+"Lacrosse," replied South. "Murdoch was tending goal and I was trying to
+get the ball by him. I tripped over his stick and banged my face against
+a goal-iron. That's all."
+
+"Seems to me it's enough," said Foster. "What did you do to Murdoch?"
+South opened his eyes in innocent surprise.
+
+"Nothing."
+
+"Nothing be blowed, my boy. Murdoch's limping to beat the band."
+
+"Oh!" grinned South. "That was afterward; he got mixed up with my stick,
+and, I fear, hurt his shins."
+
+"Well," said Neil, when the laughter was over, "football seems deadly
+enough, but I begin to think it's a parlor game for rainy evenings
+alongside of lacrosse."
+
+"There won't be many fellows left for the Robinson game," said Sydney,
+"if they keep on getting hurt."
+
+"That's so," Livingston concurred. "Fletcher, White, Jewell, Brown,
+Stowell--who else?"
+
+"Well, I'm not feeling well myself," said Foster.
+
+"We were referring to _players_, Teddy, my love," replied South sweetly.
+
+"Insulted!" cried Foster, leaping wildly to his feet. "It serves me
+right for associating with a lot of freshmen. Good-night, Fletcher, my
+wounded gladiator. Get well and come back to us; all will be forgiven."
+
+"I'd like the chance of forgiving the fellow that jumped on my
+shoulder," said Neil. "I'd send him to join Murdoch."
+
+"That's not nice," answered Foster gravely. "Forgive your enemies.
+Good-night, you cubs."
+
+"Hold on," said Livingston, "I'm going your way. Good-night, Fletcher.
+Cheer up and get well. We need you and so does the team. Remember the
+class is looking forward to seeing you win a few touch-downs in the
+Robinson game."
+
+"Oh, I'll be all right," answered Neil, "and if they'll let me into the
+game I'll do my best. Only--I'm afraid I'll be a bit stale when I get
+out again."
+
+"Not you," declared Livingston heartily. "'Age can not wither nor custom
+stale your infinite variety.'"
+
+"That's a quotation from--somebody," said South accusingly. "'Fan' wants
+us to think he made it up. Besides, I don't think it's correct; it
+should be, 'Custom can not age nor wither stale your various interests.'
+Hold on, I'm not particular; I'll walk along with you two. But fortune
+send we don't meet the Dean," he continued, as he slid to the floor. "I
+called on him Monday; a little affair of too many cuts; 'Mr. South,'
+said he sorrowfully, 'avoid two things while in college--idleness and
+evil associations.' I promised, fellows, and here I am breaking that
+promise. Farewell, Fletcher; bear up under your great load of
+affliction. Good-night, Burr. Kindly see that he gets his medicine
+regularly every seven minutes, and don't let him sleep in a draft;
+pajamas are much warmer."
+
+"Come on, you grinning idiot," said Foster.
+
+When the door had closed upon the three, Sydney placed his crutches
+under his arms and moved over to the chair beside the couch.
+
+"Look here, Neil, you don't really think, do you, that you'll have any
+trouble getting back into your place?"
+
+"I hardly know. Of course two weeks of idleness makes a big difference.
+And besides, I'm losing a lot of practise. This new close-formation that
+Mills is teaching will be Greek to me."
+
+"It's simple enough," said Sydney. "The backs are bunched right up to
+the line, the halfs on each side of quarter, and the full just
+behind him."
+
+"Well, but I don't see--"
+
+"Wait," interrupted Sydney, "I'll show you."
+
+He drew a folded sheet of paper from his pocket and passed it to the
+other. Neil scowled over it a moment, and then looked up helplessly.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"What is it?" he asked. "Something weird in geometry?"
+
+"No," laughed Sydney, "it's a play from close-formation. I drew it this
+morning."
+
+"Oh," said Neil. "Let's see; what--Here, explain it; where do I come
+in?"
+
+"Why, your position is at the left of quarter, behind the center-guard,
+and a little farther back. Full stands directly behind quarter. See?"
+
+"Pshaw! if we get into a crowd like that," said Neil, "we'll get all
+tied up."
+
+"No you won't; not the way Mills and Devoe are teaching it. You see, the
+idea is to knife the backs through; there isn't any plunging to speak of
+and not much hurdling. The forwards open up a hole, and almost before
+the ball's well in play one of the backs is squirming through. Quarter
+gives you the ball at a hand-pass, always; there's no long passing done;
+except, of course, for a kick. Being right up to the line when play
+begins it only takes you a fraction of a second to hit it; and then, if
+the hole's there you're through before the other side has opened their
+eyes. Of course, it all depends on speed and the ability of the line-men
+to make holes. You've got to be on your toes, and you've got to get off
+them like a streak of lightning."
+
+"Well, maybe it's all right," said Neil doubtfully, "but it looks like
+a mix-up. Who gets the ball in this play here?"
+
+"Right half. Left half plunges through between left-guard and center to
+make a diversion. Full-back goes through between left tackle and end
+ahead of right half, who carries the ball. Quarter follows. Of course
+the play can be made around end instead. What do you think of it?"
+
+"All right; but--I think I'd ought to have the ball."
+
+"You would when the play went to the right," laughed Sydney. "The fact
+is, I--this particular play hasn't been used. I sort of got it up
+myself. I don't know whether it would be any good. I sometimes try my
+hand at inventing plays, just for fun, you know."
+
+"Really?" exclaimed Neil. "Well, you are smart. I could no more draw all
+those nice little cakes and pies and things than I could fly. And it--it
+looks plausible, I think. But I'm no authority on this sort of thing.
+Are you going to show it to Devoe?"
+
+"Oh, no; I dare say it's no use. It may be as old as the hills; I
+suppose it is. It's hard to find anything new nowadays in
+football plays."
+
+"But you don't know," said Neil. "Maybe it's a good thing. I'll tell
+you, Syd, you let me have this, and I'll show it to Mills."
+
+"Oh, I'd rather not," protested Sydney, reddening. "Of course it
+doesn't amount to anything; I dare say he's thought of it long ago."
+
+"But maybe he hasn't," Neil persuaded. "Come, let me show it to him,
+like a good chap."
+
+"Well--But couldn't you let him think you did it?"
+
+"No; I'd be up a tree if he asked me to explain it. But don't you be
+afraid of Mills; he's a fine chap. Come and see me to-morrow night,
+will you?"
+
+Sydney agreed, and, arising, swung himself across the study to where his
+coat and cap lay.
+
+"By the way," he asked, "where's Paul to-night?"
+
+"He's calling on Cowan," answered Neil.
+
+Sydney looked as though he wanted to say something and didn't dare.
+Finally he found courage.
+
+"I should think he'd stay in his room now that you're laid up," he said.
+
+"Oh, he does," answered Neil. "Paul's all right, only he's a
+bit--careless. I guess I've humored him too much. Good-night. Don't
+forget to-morrow night."
+
+Mills called the following forenoon. Ever since Neil's accident he had
+made it his duty to inquire daily after him, and the two were getting
+very well acquainted. Neil likened Mills to a crab--rather crusty on the
+outside, he told himself, but all right when you got under the shell.
+Neil was getting under the shell.
+
+To-day, after Neil had reported on his state of health and spirits, he
+brought out Sydney's diagram. Mills examined it carefully, silently, for
+some time. Then he nodded his head.
+
+"Not bad; rather clever. Who did it; you?"
+
+"No, I couldn't if I was to be killed. Sydney Burr did it. Maybe you've
+seen him. A cripple; goes around on a tricycle."
+
+"Yes, I've seen the boy. But does he--has he played?"
+
+"Never; he's been a crip all his life." Mills opened his eyes in
+astonishment.
+
+"Well, if that's so this is rather wonderful. It's a good play,
+Fletcher, but it's not original; that is, not altogether. But as far as
+Burr's concerned it is, of course. Look here, the fellow ought to be
+encouraged. I'll see him and tell him to try his hand again."
+
+"He's coming here this evening," said Neil. "Perhaps you could look in
+for a moment?"
+
+"I will. Let me take this; I want Jones to see it. He thinks he's a
+wonder at diagrams," laughed Mills, "and I want to tell him this was got
+up by a crippled freshman who has never kicked a ball!"
+
+And so that evening Mills and Neil and Sydney gathered about the big
+study-table and talked long about gridiron tactics and strategy and the
+art of inventing plays. Mills praised Sydney's production and encouraged
+him to try again.
+
+"But let me tell you first how we're situated," said the head coach, "so
+that you will see just what we're after. Our material is good but light.
+Robinson will come into the field on the twenty-third weighing about
+eight pounds more to a man in the line and ten pounds more behind it.
+That's bad enough, but she's going to play tackle-back about the way
+we've taught the second eleven to play it. Her tackles will weigh about
+one hundred and eighty-five pounds each. She will take one of those men,
+range him up in front of our center-guard hole, and put two backs with
+him, tandem fashion. When that trio, joined by the other half and the
+quarter, hits our line it's going right through it--that is, unless we
+can find some means of stopping it. So far we haven't found that means.
+We've tried several things; we're still trying; but we haven't found the
+play we want.
+
+"If we're to win that game we've got to play on the defensive; we've got
+to stop tackle-back and rely on an end run now and then and lots of
+punting to get us within goal distance. Then our play is to score by a
+quick run or a field-goal. The offense we're working up--we'll call it
+close-formation for want of a better name--is, we think, the best we can
+find. The idea is to open holes quickly and jab a runner through before
+our heavier and necessarily slower opponents can concentrate their
+weight at the point of attack. For the close-formation we have, I think,
+plays covering every phase. And so, while a good offensive strategy
+will be welcome, yet what we stand in greatest need of is a play to stop
+Robinson's tackle-tandem. Now you apparently have ability in this line,
+Mr. Burr; and, what's more, you have the time to study the thing up.
+Supposing you try your hand and see what you can do. If you can find
+what we want--something that the rest of us can't find, by the
+way--you'll be doing as much, if not more, than any of us toward
+securing a victory over Robinson. And don't hesitate to come and see me
+if you find yourself in a quandary or whenever you've got anything
+to show."
+
+And Sydney trundled himself back to his room and sat up until after
+midnight puzzling his brains over the tackle-tandem play, finally
+deciding that a better understanding of the play was necessary before he
+could hope to discover its remedy. When he crawled into bed and closed
+his tired eyes it was to see a confused jumble of orange-hued lines and
+circles running riot in the darkness.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+MAKES A CALL
+
+Despite Neil's absence from Erskine Field, preparation for the crowning
+conflict of the year went on with vigor and enthusiasm. The ranks of the
+coaches were swelled from day to day by patriotic alumni, some of whom
+were of real help, others of whom merely stood around in what Devoe
+called their "store clothes" and looked wonderfully wise. Some came to
+stay and took up quarters in the village, but the most merely tarried
+overnight, and, having unburdened themselves to Mills and Devoe of much
+advice, went away again, well pleased with their devotion to alma mater.
+
+The signals in use during the preliminary season had now been discarded
+in favor of the more complicated system prepared for the "big game."
+Each day there was half an hour of secret practise behind closed gates,
+after which the assistant coaches emerged looking very wise and very
+solemn. The make-up of the varsity eleven had changed not a little since
+the game with Woodby, and was still being changed. Some positions were,
+however, permanently filled. For instance, Browning had firmly
+established his right to play left-guard, while the deposed Carey found
+a role eminently suited to him at right tackle. Stowell became first
+choice for center, and the veteran Graham went over to the second team.
+Stone at left end, Tucker at left tackle, Devoe at right end, and Foster
+at quarter, were fixtures.
+
+The problem of finding a man for the position of left half in place of
+Neil had finally been solved by moving Paul over there from the other
+side and giving his place to Gillam, a last year substitute. Paul's
+style of play was very similar to Neil's. He was sure on his feet, a
+hard, fast runner, and his line-plunging was often brilliant and
+effective. The chief fault with him was that he was erratic. One day he
+played finely, the next so listlessly as to cause the coaches to shake
+their heads. His goal-kicking left something to be desired, but as yet
+he was as good in that line as any save Neil. Gillam, although light,
+was a hard line-bucker and a hurdler that was afraid of nothing. In fact
+he gave every indication of excelling Paul by the time the Robinson
+game arrived.
+
+One cause of Paul's uneven playing was the fact that he was worried
+about his studies. He was taking only the required courses, seven in
+all, making necessary an attendance of sixteen hours each week; but
+Greek and mathematics were stumbling-blocks, and he was in daily fear
+lest he find himself forbidden to play football. He knew well enough
+where the trouble lay; he simply didn't give enough time to study. But,
+somehow, what with the all-absorbing subject of making the varsity and
+the hundred and one things that took up his time, the hours remaining
+for "grinding" were all too few. He wondered how Neil, who seemed quite
+as busy as himself, managed to give so much time to books.
+
+In one of his weekly evening talks to the football men Mills had
+strongly counseled attention to study. There was no excuse, he had
+asserted, for any of the candidates shirking lessons.
+
+"On the contrary, the fact that you are in training, that you are living
+with proper regard for sleep, good food, fresh air, and plenty of hard
+physical work, should and does make you able to study better. In my
+experience, I am glad to say, I have known not one football captain who
+did not stand among the first few in his class; and that same experience
+has proved to me that, almost without exception, students who go in for
+athletics are the best scholars. Healthful exercise and sensible living
+go hand in hand with scholarly attainment. I don't mean to say that
+every successful student has been an athlete, but I do say that almost
+every athlete has been a successful student. And now that we understand
+each other in this matter, none of you need feel any surprise if, should
+you get into difficulties with the faculty over your studies, I refuse,
+as I shall, to intercede in your behalf. I want men to deal with who are
+honest, hard-working athletes, and honest, hard-working students. My own
+experience and that of other coachers with whom I have talked, proves
+that the brilliant football player or crew man who sacrifices class
+standing for his athletic work may do for a while, but in the end is a
+losing investment."
+
+And on top of that warning Paul had received one afternoon a printed
+postal card, filled in here and there with the pen, which was
+as follows:
+
+"Erskine College, _November 4, 1901_.
+
+"Mr. Paul Gale.
+
+"Dear Sir: You are requested to call on the Dean, Tuesday, November 5th,
+during the regular office hours.
+
+"Yours respectfully,
+
+"Ephraim Levett, _Dean_."
+
+Paul obeyed the mandate with sinking heart. When he left the office it
+was with a sensation of intense relief and with a resolve to apply
+himself so well to his studies as to keep himself and the Dean
+thereafter on the merest bowing acquaintance. And he was, thus far,
+living up to his resolution; but as less than a week had gone by,
+perhaps his self-gratulation was a trifle early. It may be that Cowan
+also was forced to confer with the Dean at about that time, for he too
+showed an unusual application to text-books, and as a result he and Paul
+saw each other less frequently.
+
+On November 6th, one week after Neil's accident and just two weeks prior
+to the Robinson game, Erskine played Arrowden, and defeated her 11-0.
+Neil, however, did not witness that contest, for, at the invitation of
+and in company with Devoe, he journeyed to Collegetown and watched
+Robinson play Artmouth. Devoe had rather a bad knee, and was nursing it
+against the game with Yale at New Haven the following Saturday. Two of
+the coaches were also of the party, and all were eager to get an inkling
+of the plays that Robinson was going to spring on Erskine. But Robinson
+was reticent. Perhaps her coaches discovered the presence of the Erskine
+emissaries. However that may have been, her team used ordinary
+formations instead of tackle-back, and displayed none of the tricks
+which rumor credited her with having up her sleeve. But the Erskine
+party saw enough, nevertheless, to persuade them one and all that the
+Purple need only expect defeat, unless some way of breaking up the
+tackle-back play was speedily discovered. Robinson's line was heavy, and
+composed almost altogether of last year material. Artmouth found it
+well-nigh impregnable, and Artmouth's backs were reckoned good men.
+
+"If we had three more men in our line as heavy and steady as Browning,
+Cowan, and Carey," said Devoe, "we might hope to get our backs through;
+but, as it is, they'll get the jump on us, I fear, and tear up our
+offense before it gets agoing."
+
+"The only course," answered one of the coaches, "is to get to work and
+put starch into the line as well as we can, and to perfect the backs at
+kicking and running. Luckily that close-formation has the merit of
+concealing the point of attack until it's under way, and it's just
+possible that we'll manage to fool them."
+
+And so Jones and Mills went to work with renewed vigor the next day. But
+the second team, playing tackle-back after the style of Robinson's
+warriors, was too much for any defense that the varsity could put up,
+and got its distance time after time. The coaches evolved and tried
+several plays designed to stop it, but none proved really successful.
+
+Neil returned to practise that afternoon, his right shoulder protected
+by a wonderful leather contrivance which was the cause of much
+good-natured fun. He didn't get near the line-up, however, but was
+allowed to take part in signal practise, and was then set to kicking
+goals from placement. If the reader will button his right arm inside his
+coat and try to kick a ball with accuracy he will gain some slight idea
+of the difficulty which embarrassed Neil. When work was over he felt as
+though he had been trying, he declared, to kick left-handed. But he met
+with enough success to demonstrate that, given opportunity for practise,
+one may eventually learn to kick goals minus anything except feet.
+
+That happened to be one of Paul's "off days," and the way he played
+exasperated the coaches and alarmed him. He could not hide from himself
+the evident fact that Gillam was outplaying him five days a week. With
+the return of Neil, Paul expected to be ousted from the position of left
+half, and the question that worried him was whether he would in turn
+displace Gillam or be sent back to the second eleven. He was safe,
+however, for several days more, for Simson still laughed at Neil's
+demand to be put into the line-up, and he was determined that before the
+Yale game he would prove himself superior to Gillam.
+
+The following morning, Friday, Mills was seated at the desk in his room
+making out a list of players who were to participate in the Robinson
+game. According to the agreement between the rival colleges such lists
+were required to be exchanged not later than two weeks prior to the
+contest. The players had been decided upon the evening before by all the
+coaches in assembly, and his task this morning was merely to recopy the
+list before him. He had almost completed the work when he heard strange
+sounds outside his door. Then followed a knock, and, in obedience to his
+request, Sydney Burr pushed open the door and swung himself in on
+his crutches.
+
+The boy's face was alight with eagerness, and his eyes sparkled with
+excitement; there was even a dash of color in his usually pale cheeks.
+Mills jumped up and wheeled forward an easy-chair. But Sydney paid no
+heed to it.
+
+"Mr. Mills," he cried exultantly, "I think I've got it!"
+
+"Got what?" asked the coach.
+
+"The play we want," answered Sydney, "the play that'll stop Robinson!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+AND TELLS OF A DREAM
+
+Mills's face lighted up, and he stretched forth an eager hand.
+
+"Good for you, Burr! Let's see it. Hold on, though; sit down here first
+and give me those sticks. There we are. Now fire ahead."
+
+"If you don't mind, I'd like to tell you all about it first, before I
+show you the diagram," said Sydney, his eyes dancing.
+
+"All right; let's hear it," replied the head coach smiling.
+
+"Well," began Sydney, "it's been a puzzler. After I'd seen the second
+playing tackle-back I about gave up hopes of ever finding a--an
+antidote."
+
+"'Antidote's' good," commented Mills laughingly.
+
+"I tried all sorts of notions," continued Sydney, "and spoiled whole
+reams of paper drawing diagrams. But it was all nonsense. I had the
+right idea, though, all the time; I realized that if that tandem was
+going to be stopped it would have to be stopped before it hit
+our line."
+
+Mills nodded.
+
+"I had the idea, as I say, but I couldn't apply it. And that's the way
+things stood last night when I went to bed. I had sat up until after
+eleven and had used up all the paper I had, and so when I got into bed I
+saw diagrams all over the place and had an awful time to get to sleep.
+But at last I did. And then I dreamed.
+
+"And in the dream I was playing football. That's the first time I ever
+played it, and I guess it'll be the last. I was all done up in sweaters
+and things until I couldn't do much more than move my arms and head. It
+seemed that we were in 9 Grace Hall, only there was grass instead of
+floor, and it was all marked out like a gridiron. And everybody was
+there, I guess; the President and the Dean, and you and Mr. Jones, and
+Mr. Preston and--and my mother. It was awfully funny about my mother.
+She kept sewing more sweaters on to me all the time, because, as she
+said, the more I had on the less likely I was to get hurt. And Devoe was
+there, and he was saying that it wasn't fair; that the football rules
+distinctly said that players should wear only one sweater. But nobody
+paid any attention to him. And after a bit, when I was so covered with
+sweaters that I was round, like a big ball, the Dean whistled and we got
+into line--that is," said Sydney doubtfully, "it was sort of like a
+line. There was the President and Neil Fletcher and I on one side, and
+all the others, at least thirty of them, on the other. It didn't seem
+quite fair, but I didn't like to object for fear they'd say I
+was afraid."
+
+"Well, you _did_ have the nightmare," said Mills. "Then what?"
+
+"The other side got into a bunch, and I knew they were playing
+tackle-back, although of course they weren't really; they just all stood
+together. And I didn't see any ball, either. Then some one yelled 'Smash
+'em up!' and they started for us. At that Neil--at least I think it was
+Neil--and Prexy--I mean the President--took hold of me, lifted me up
+like a bag of potatoes, and hurled me right at the other crowd. I went
+flying through the air, turning round and round and round, till I
+thought I'd never stop. Then there was an awful bump, I yelled 'Down!'
+at the top of my lungs--and woke up. I was on the floor."
+
+Mills laughed, and Sydney took breath.
+
+"At first I didn't know what had happened. Then I remembered the dream,
+and all on a sudden, like a flash of lightning, it occurred to me that
+_that_ was the way to stop tackle-back!"
+
+"That? What?" asked Mills, looking puzzled.
+
+"Why, the bag of potatoes act," laughed Sydney. "I jumped up, lighted
+the gas, got pencil and paper and went back to bed and worked it out.
+And here it is."
+
+He drew a carefully folded slip of paper from his pocket and handed it
+across to Mills. The diagram, just as the head coach received it, is
+reproduced here.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Mills studied it for a minute in silence; once he grunted; once he
+looked wonderingly up at Sydney. In the end he laid it beside him on
+the desk.
+
+"I think you've got it, Burr," he said quietly, "I think you've got it,
+my boy. If this works out the way it should, your nightmare will be the
+luckiest thing that's happened at Erskine for several years. Draw your
+chair up here--I beg your pardon; I forgot. I'll do the moving myself."
+He placed his own chair beside Sydney's and handed the diagram to
+him. "Now just go over this, will you; tell me just what your idea is."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Sydney, still excited over the night's happenings, drew a ready pencil
+from his pocket, and began rather breathlessly:
+
+"I've placed the Robinson players in the positions that our second team
+occupies for the tackle-tandem. Full-back, left tackle, and right half,
+one behind the other, back of their guard-tackle hole. Now, as the ball
+goes into play their tandem starts. Quarter passes the ball to tackle,
+or maybe right half, and they plunge through our line. That's what they
+would do if we couldn't stop them, isn't it?"
+
+"They would, indeed," answered Mills grimly. "About ten yards through
+our line!"
+
+"Well, now we place our left half in our line between our guard and
+tackle, and put our full-back behind him, making a tandem of our own.
+Quarter stands almost back of guard, and the other half over here. When
+the ball is put in play our tandem starts at a jump and hits the
+opposing tandem just at the moment their quarter passes the ball to
+their runner. In other words, we get through on to them before they can
+get under way. Our quarter and right half follow up, and, unless I'm
+away off on my calculations, that tackle-tandem is going to stop on its
+own side of the line."
+
+Sydney paused and awaited Mills's opinion. The latter was silent a
+moment. Then--
+
+"Of course," he said, "you've thought of what's going to happen to that
+left half?"
+
+"Yes," answered Sydney, "I have. He's going to get most horribly banged
+up. But he's going to stop the play."
+
+"Yes, I think he is--if he lives," said Mills with a grim smile. "The
+only objection that occurs to me this moment is this: Have we the right
+to place any player in a position like this where the punishment is
+certain to be terrific, if not absolutely dangerous?"
+
+"I've thought of that, too," answered Sydney readily. "And I don't
+believe we--er--you have."
+
+"Well, then I think our play's dished at the start."
+
+"Why, not a bit, sir. Call the players up, explain the thing to them,
+and tell them you want a man for that position."
+
+"Ah, ask for volunteers, eh?"
+
+"Yes, sir. And you'll have just as many, I'll bet, as there are men!"
+
+Mills smiled.
+
+"Well, it's a desperate remedy, but I believe it's the only one, and
+we'll see what can be done. By the way, I observe that you've taken left
+half for the victim?"
+
+"Yes, sir; that's Neil Fletcher. He's the fellow for it, I think."
+
+"But I thought he was a friend of yours," laughed Mills.
+
+"So he is; that's why I want him to get it; he won't ask anything
+better. And he's got the weight and the speed. The fellow that
+undertakes it has got to be mighty quick, and he's got to have weight
+and plenty of grit. And that's Neil."
+
+"Yes, I think so too. But I don't want him to get used up and not be
+able to kick, for we'll need a field-goal before the game is over, if
+I'm not greatly mistaken. However, we can find a man for that place,
+I've no doubt. For that matter, we must find two at least, for one will
+never last the game through."
+
+"I suppose not. I--I wish I had a chance at it," said Sydney longingly.
+
+"I wish you had," said Mills. "I think you'd stand all the punishment
+Robinson would give you. But don't feel badly that you can't play; as
+long as you can teach the rest of us the game you've got honor enough."
+
+Sydney flushed with pleasure, and Mills took up the diagram again.
+
+"Guard and tackle will have their work cut out for them," he said. "And
+I'm not sure that left end can't be brought into it, too. There's one
+good feature about Robinson's formation, and that is we can imagine
+where it's coming as long as it's a tandem. If we stop them they'll have
+to try the ends, and I don't think they'll make much there. Well, we'll
+give this a try to-morrow, and see how it works. By the way, Burr," he
+went on, "you can get about pretty well on your crutches, can't you?"
+
+"Yes," Sydney answered.
+
+"Good. Then what's to prevent you from coming out to the field in the
+afternoons and giving us a hand with this? Do you think you could afford
+the time?"
+
+Sydney's eyes dropped; he didn't want Mills to see how near the tears
+were to his eyes.
+
+"I can afford the time all right," he answered in a voice that, despite
+his efforts, was not quite steady, "if you really think I can be of
+any use."
+
+Perhaps Mills guessed the other's pleasure, for he smiled gently as he
+answered:
+
+"I don't think; I'm certain. You know this play better than I do; it's
+yours; you know how you want it to go. You come out and look after the
+play; we'll attend to the players. And then, if we find a weak place in
+it, we can all get together and remedy it. But you oughtn't to try and
+wheel yourself out there and back every day. You tell me what time you
+can be ready each afternoon and I'll see that there's a buggy
+waiting for you."
+
+"Oh, no, really!" Sydney protested. "I'd rather not! I can get to the
+field and back easily, without getting at all tired; in fact, I need the
+exercise."
+
+"Well, if you're certain of that," answered the coach. "But any time
+you change your mind, or the weather's bad, let me know. If you can, I'd
+like you to come around here again this evening. I'll have Devoe and the
+coaches here, and we'll talk this--this 'antidote' over again.
+Well, good-by."
+
+Sydney swung himself to the door, followed by Mills, and got into his
+tricycle.
+
+"About eight this evening, if you can make it, Burr," said Mills.
+"Good-by." He stood at the door and watched the other as he trundled
+slowly down the street.
+
+"Poor chap!" he muttered. And then: "Still, I'm not so sure that he's an
+object of pity. If he hasn't any legs worth mentioning, the Almighty
+made it up to him by giving him a whole lot of brains. If he can't get
+about like the rest of us he's a great deal more contented, I believe,
+and if he can't play football he can show others how to. And," he added,
+as he returned to his desk, "unless I'm mistaken, he's done it to-day.
+Now to mail this list and then for the 'antidote'!"
+
+That night in Mills's room the assembled coaches and captain talked over
+Sydney's play, discussed it from start to finish, objected, explained,
+argued, tore it to pieces and put it together again, and in the end
+indorsed it. And Sydney, silent save when called on for an explanation
+of some feature of his discovery, sat with his crutches beside his chair
+and listened to many complimentary remarks; and at ten o'clock went back
+to Walton and bed, only to lie awake until long after the town-clock
+had struck midnight, excited and happy.
+
+Had you been at Erskine at any time during the following two weeks and
+had managed to get behind the fence, you would have witnessed a very
+busy scene. Day after day the varsity and the second fought like the
+bitterest enemies; day after day the little army of coaches shouted and
+fumed, pleaded and scolded; and day after day a youth on crutches
+followed the struggling, panting lines, instructing and criticizing, and
+happier than he had been at any time in his memory.
+
+For the "antidote," as they had come to call it, had been tried and had
+vindicated its inventor's faith in it. Every afternoon the second team
+hammered the varsity line with the tackle-tandem, and almost every time
+the varsity stopped it and piled it up in confusion. The call for
+volunteers for the thankless position at the front of the little tandem
+of two had resulted just as Sydney had predicted. Every candidate for
+varsity honors had begged for it, and some half dozen or more had been
+tried. But in the end the choice had narrowed down to Neil, Paul,
+Gillam, and Mason, and these it was that day after day bore the brunt of
+the attack, emerging from each pile-up beaten, breathless, scarred, but
+happy and triumphant. Two weeks is short time in which to teach a new
+play, but Mills and the others went bravely and confidently to work, and
+it seemed that success was to justify the attempt; for three days
+before the Robinson game the varsity had at last attained perfection in
+the new play, and the coaches dared at last to hope for victory.
+
+But meanwhile other things, pleasant and unpleasant, had happened, and
+we must return to the day which had witnessed the inception of Sydney
+Burr's "antidote."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+ROBINSON SENDS A PROTEST
+
+When Sydney left Mills that morning he trundled himself along Elm Street
+to Neil's lodgings in the hope of finding that youth and telling him of
+his good fortune. But the windows of the first floor front study were
+wide open, the curtains were hanging out over the sills, and from within
+came the sound of the broom and clouds of dust. Sydney turned his
+tricycle about in disappointment and retraced his path, through Elm
+Lane, by the court-house with its tall white pillars and green shutters,
+across Washington Street, the wheels of his vehicle rustling through the
+drifts of dead leaves that lined the sidewalks, and so back to Walton.
+He had a recitation at half-past ten, but there was still twenty minutes
+of leisure according to the dingy-faced clock on the tower of College
+Hall. So he left the tricycle by the steps, and putting his crutches
+under his arms, swung himself into the building and down the corridor to
+his study. The door was ajar and he thrust it open with his foot.
+
+"Please be careful of the paint," expostulated a voice, and Sydney
+paused in surprise.
+
+"Well," he said; "I've just been over to your room looking for you."
+
+"Have you? Sorry I wasn't--Say, Syd, listen to this." Neil dragged a
+pillow into a more comfortable place and sat up. He had been stretched
+at full length on the big window-seat. "Here it is in a nutshell," he
+continued, waving the paper he was reading.
+
+ "'First a signal, then a thud,
+ And your face is in the mud.
+ Some one jumps upon your back,
+ And your ribs begin to crack.
+ Hear a whistle. "Down!" That's all.
+ 'Tis the way to play football.'"
+
+"Pretty good, eh? Hello, what's up? Your face looks as bright as though
+you'd polished it. How dare you allow your countenance to express joy
+when in another quarter of an hour I shall be struggling over my head in
+the history of Rome during the second Punic War? But there, go ahead;
+unbosom yourself. I can see you're bubbling over with delightful news.
+Have they decided to abolish the Latin language? Or has the faculty been
+kidnaped? Have they changed their minds and decided to take me with 'em
+to New Haven to-morrow? Come, little Bright Eyes, out with it!"
+
+Sydney told his good news, not without numerous eager interruptions from
+Neil, and when he had ended the latter executed what he called a "Punic
+war-dance." It was rather a striking performance, quite stately and
+impressive, for when one's left shoulder is made immovable by much
+bandaging it is difficult, as Neil breathlessly explained, to display
+_abandon_--the latter spoken through the nose to give it the correct
+French pronunciation.
+
+"And, if you're not good to me," laughed Sydney, "I'll get back at you
+in practise. And I'm to be treated with respect, also, Neil; in fact, I
+believe you had better remove your cap when you see me."
+
+"All right, old man; cap--sweater--anything! You shall be treated with
+the utmost deference. But seriously, Syd, I'm awfully glad. Glad all
+around; glad you've made a hit with the play, and glad you've found
+something to beat Robinson with. Now tell me again about it; where do I
+come in on it?"
+
+And so Sydney drew a chair up to the table and drew more diagrams of the
+new play, and Neil looked on with great interest until the bell struck
+the half-hour, and they hurried away to recitations.
+
+The next day the varsity and substitutes went to New Haven. Neil wasn't
+taken along, and so when the result of the game reached the
+college--Yale 40, Erskine 0--he was enabled to tell Sydney that it was
+insanity for Mills and Devoe to expect to do anything without his
+(Neil's) services.
+
+"If they will leave me behind, Syd, what can they hope for save rout and
+disaster? Of course, I realize that I could not have played, but my
+presence on the side-line would have inspired them and have been very,
+very helpful. I'm sure the score would have been quite different, Syd."
+
+"Yes," laughed the other; "say fifty to nothing."
+
+"Your levity and disrespect pains me," mourned Neil.
+
+But despite the overwhelming nature of the defeat, Mills and Devoe and
+the associate coaches found much to encourage them. No attempt had been
+made to try the new defensive play, but Erskine had managed to make her
+distance several times. The line had proved steady and had borne the
+severe battering of the Yale backs without serious injury. The Purple's
+back-field had played well; Paul had been in his best form, Gillam had
+gained ground quite often through Yale's wings, and Mason, at full-back,
+had fought nobly. The ends had proved themselves quick and speedy in
+getting down under punts, and several of the Blue's tries around end had
+been nipped ingloriously in the bud. But, when all was said, the
+principal honors of the contest had fallen to Ted Foster, Erskine's
+plucky quarter, whose handling of the team had been wonderful, and
+whose catching and running back of punts had more than once turned the
+tide of battle. On the whole, Erskine had put up a good, fast,
+well-balanced game; had displayed plenty of grit, had shown herself well
+advanced in team-play, and had emerged practically unscathed from a
+hard-fought contest.
+
+On Monday Neil went into the line-up for a few minutes, displacing Paul
+at left-half, but did not form one of the heroic tandem. His shoulder
+bothered him a good deal for the first minute or two, but after he had
+warmed up to the work he forgot about it and banged it around so that
+Simson was obliged to remonstrate and threaten to take him out. On the
+second's twenty yards Neil was given a chance at a goal from placement,
+and, in spite of his right shoulder, and to the delight of the coaches,
+sent the leather over the bar. When he turned and trotted back up the
+field he almost ran over Sydney, who was hobbling blithely about the
+gridiron on his crutches.
+
+"Whoa!" cried Neil. "Back up! Hello, Board of Strategy; how do you find
+yourself?"
+
+"That was fine, Neil," said Sydney.
+
+"What?"
+
+"That goal."
+
+"Glad you liked it. I was beastly nervous," he laughed. "Had no idea I
+could do it. It's so different trying goals in a game; when you're just
+off practising it doesn't seem to bother you."
+
+"Oh, you'll do. Gale is growling like a bear because they took him out."
+
+"Is he?" asked Neil. "I'm sorry. Do you know whether he stands a good
+show for the game? Have you heard Mills or Devoe say anything about it?"
+Sydney shook his head.
+
+"I'm afraid Gillam's got us both boxed," continued Neil. "As for me, I
+suppose they'll let me in because I can sometimes kick a goal, but I'm
+worried about Paul. If he'd only--Farewell, they are lining up again."
+
+"I don't believe Gale will get into the Robinson game," thought Sydney
+as he took himself toward the side-line. "He seems a good player,
+but--but you never can tell what he's going to do; half the time he just
+sort of slops around and looks as though he was doing a favor by
+playing. I can't see why Neil likes him so well; I suppose it's because
+he's so different. Maybe he's a better sort when you know him
+real well."
+
+After practise was ended and the riotous half-hour in the locker-house
+was over, Neil found himself walking back to the campus with Sydney and
+Paul. Paul entertained a half-contemptuous liking for Sydney. To Neil he
+called him "the crip," but when in Sydney's presence was careful never
+to say anything to wound the boy's feelings--an act of consideration
+rather remarkable for Paul, who, while really kind at heart, was
+oftentimes careless about the sensibilities of others. This afternoon
+Paul was evidently downcast, too downcast to be even cross.
+
+"Well, I guess it's all up with me," he said as they passed through the
+gate and started down Williams Street toward college. "I'm glad you're
+back, chum, but I can see my finish."
+
+"Nonsense," said Neil, "you'll be back to-morrow. Gillam is putting up a
+star game, and that's a fact; but your weight will help you, and if you
+buckle down for the next few days you'll make it all right."
+
+But Paul refused to be comforted and remained silent and gloomy all the
+way home. Knowing how Paul had set his heart upon making the varsity for
+the Robinson game, Neil began to be rather worried himself. He felt,
+unnecessarily of course, in a measure responsible for the crowning of
+his friend's ambition. When he had prevailed on Paul to relinquish the
+idea of going to Robinson, he had derided the possibility of Paul
+failing to make the Erskine team; and now that possibility was rapidly
+assuming the appearance of a probability. Certainly the fault was
+Paul's, and not his; but the thought contained small comfort.
+
+Next day's practise, in preparation for Erskine's last game before the
+Robinson contest, proved Paul's fears far from groundless. Gillam, Neil,
+and Mason started work when the line-up was formed, and Paul looked on
+heart-brokenly from the bench. It was not until Neil had failed twice
+and succeeded once at field-goals, and Gillam had been well hammered by
+the second's tandem plays, that Paul secured a chance. Then Neil was
+taken out and his friend put in.
+
+Neil wrapped a frayed gray blanket about his shoulders and reflected
+ruefully upon events. He knew that he had played poorly; that he had
+twice tied up the play by allowing his thoughts to wander; that his
+end-running had been slow, almost listless, and that his performance at
+goal-kicking had been miserable. He had missed two tries from placement,
+one on the twenty yards and another on the twenty-seven, and had only
+succeeded at a drop-kick by the barest of margins. He couldn't even lay
+the blame on his injured shoulder, for that was no longer a factor in
+his playing; the bandages were off and only a leather pad remained to
+remind him of the incident. No, he had simply worried his stupid head
+over Paul's troubles, he told himself, and had thereby disappointed the
+coaches, the captain, and himself. Simson found him presently and sent
+him trotting about the field, an exercise that worked some of his gloom
+off and left him in a fairly cheerful frame of mind when he ran up the
+locker-house steps.
+
+But at dinner he found that his appetite had almost deserted him. Simson
+observed him gravely, and after the meal was over questioned closely.
+Neil answered rather irritably, and the trainer's uneasiness increased;
+but he only said:
+
+"Go to bed early to-night and lay off to-morrow. You'll be better by
+Monday. And you might take a walk to-morrow afternoon; go off into the
+country somewhere; see if you can't find some one to go with you. How's
+the shoulder? No trouble there, is there?"
+
+"No, there's no trouble anywhere; I just wasn't hungry."
+
+"Well, you do what I've told you and you'll get your appetite back, my
+boy."
+
+Neil turned away frowning and took himself to his lodging, feeling angry
+with Simson because he was going to keep him off the field, and angry
+with himself because--oh, just because he was.
+
+But Neil was not the only person concerned with Erskine athletics who
+was out of sorts that night. A general air of gloom had pervaded the
+dinner-table. Mills had been even silenter than usual; the three other
+coaches present had been plainly worried, and Simson, in spite of his
+attempts to keep the conversation cheerful, had showed that he too was
+bothered about something. A bomb-shell had landed in the Erskine camp
+and had exploded in Mills's quarters.
+
+On the front steps Neil met Cowan. The two always nodded to each other,
+but to-night Neil's curt salutation went unheeded. Cowan, with troubled
+face, hurried by him and went up the street toward Mills's rooms.
+
+"Every one's grouchy to-night," muttered Neil. "Even Cowan looks as
+though he was going to be shot."
+
+Meanwhile the athletic authorities of Erskine and the coaches were met
+in extraordinary session. They were considering a letter which had
+arrived that afternoon from Collegetown. In the letter Robinson
+announced her protest of Thomas L. Cowan, right-guard on the Erskine
+football team, on the score of professionalism.
+
+"It just means," wailed Foster, who had brought the tidings to Neil and
+Paul, "that it's all over with us. I don't know what Cowan has to say,
+but I'll bet a--I'll bet my new typewriter!--that Robinson's right. And
+with Cowan gone from right-guard, where are we? We haven't the ghost of
+a show. The only fellow they can play in his place is Witter, and he's a
+pygmy. Not that Witter doesn't know the position, for he does; but he's
+too light. Was there ever such luck? What good is Burr's patent,
+double-action, self-inking, cylindrical, switch-back defense if we
+haven't got a line that will hold together long enough for us to get off
+our toes? It--it's rotten luck, that's what it is."
+
+And the varsity quarter-back groaned dolorously.
+
+"But what does Cowan say?" asked Neil.
+
+"Don't ask me," said Foster. "I don't know what he says, and I don't
+believe it will matter. He's got professional written all over
+his face."
+
+"But he played last year," said Paul. "Why didn't they protest him
+then?"
+
+"I'll pass again," answered Foster. "Maybe they hadn't discovered
+it--whatever it is--then; maybe--"
+
+"Listen!" said Neil.
+
+Some one stamped up the steps and entered the front door. Foster looked
+questioningly at Neil.
+
+"Cowan?" he whispered. Neil nodded.
+
+Foster sprang to the study door and threw it open. The light from the
+room fell on the white and angry countenance of the right-guard.
+
+"Cowan," said Foster, "for heaven's sake, man, tell us about it! Is it
+all right?"
+
+But Tom Cowan only glared as he passed on up the stairs.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+A PLAN AND A CONFESSION
+
+Robinson's protest set forth succinctly that Cowan had, three years
+previous, played left tackle on the football team of a certain
+academy--whose right to the title of academy was often questioned--and
+had received money for his services. Dates and other particulars were
+liberally supplied, and the name and address of the captain of the team
+were given. Altogether, the letter was discouragingly convincing, and
+neither the coaches, the captain, nor the athletic officers really
+doubted the truth of the charge.
+
+Professor Nast, the chairman of the Athletic Committee, blinked gravely
+through his glasses and looked about the room.
+
+"You've sent for Mr. Cowan?" he asked.
+
+"Yes," Mills answered; "he ought to be here in a minute. How in the
+world was he allowed to get on to the team?"
+
+"Well, his record was gone over, as we believed, very thoroughly year
+before last," said Professor Nast; "and we found nothing against him. I
+think--ah--it seems probable that he unintentionally misled us. Perhaps
+he can--ah--explain."
+
+When, however, Cowan faced the group of grave-faced men it was soon
+evident that explanations were far from his thoughts. He had heard
+enough before the summons reached him to enable him to surmise what
+awaited him, and when Professor Nast explained their purpose in calling
+him before them, Cowan only displayed what purported to be honest
+indignation. He stormed violently against the Robinson authorities and
+defied them to prove their charge. Mills listened a while impatiently
+and then interrupted him abruptly.
+
+"Do you deny the charge, Cowan, or don't you?" he asked.
+
+"I refuse to reply to it," answered Cowan angrily. "Let them think what
+they want to; I'm not responsible to them. It's all revenge, nothing
+else. They tried to get me to go to them last September; offered me free
+coaching, and guaranteed me a position on the team. I refused. And
+here's the result."
+
+Professor Nast brightened and a few of those present looked relieved.
+But Mills refused to be touched by Cowan's righteousness, and asked
+brusquely:
+
+"Never mind what their motive is, Cowan. What we want to know is this:
+Did you or did you not accept money for playing left tackle on that
+team? Let us have an answer to that, please."
+
+"It's absurd," said Cowan hotly. "Why, I only played three games--"
+
+"Yes or no, please," said Mills.
+
+For an instant Cowan's gaze faltered. He glanced swiftly about the room
+and read only doubt or antagonism in the faces there. He shrugged his
+broad shoulders and replied sneeringly:
+
+"What's the good? You're all down on me now; you wouldn't believe me if
+I told you."
+
+"We're not all down on you," answered Mills. Professor Nast interrupted.
+
+"One moment, Mr. Mills. I don't think Mr. Cowan understands the--ah--the
+position we are in. Unless you can show to our satisfaction that the
+charge is untrue, Mr. Cowan, we shall be obliged, under the terms of our
+agreement with Robinson, to consider you ineligible. In that case, you
+could not, of course, play against Robinson; in fact, you would not be
+admitted to any branch of university athletics. Now, don't you think
+that the best course for you to follow is to make a straightforward
+explanation of your connection with the academy in question? We are not
+here to judge the--ah--ethics of your course; only to decide as to
+whether or no you are eligible to represent the college in athletics."
+
+Cowan arose from his seat and with trembling fingers buttoned his
+overcoat. His brow was black, but when he spoke, facing the head coach
+and heedless of the rest, he appeared quite cool.
+
+"Ever since practise began," he said, "you have been down on me and have
+done everything you could to get rid of me. No matter what I did, it
+wasn't right. Whether I'm eligible or ineligible, I'm done with you now.
+You may fill my place--if you can; I'm out of it. You'll probably be
+beaten; but that's your affair. If you are, I sha'n't weep over it."
+
+He walked to the door and opened it.
+
+"It's understood, I guess, that I've resigned from the team?" he asked,
+facing Mills once more.
+
+"Quite," said the latter dryly.
+
+"All right. And now I don't mind telling you that I did get paid for
+playing with that team. I played three games and took money every time.
+It isn't a crime and I'm not ashamed of it, although to hear you talk
+you'd think I'd committed murder. Good-night, gentlemen."
+
+He passed out. Professor Nast blinked nervously.
+
+"Dear me," he murmured, "dear me, how unpleasant!"
+
+Mills smiled grimly, and, rising, stretched his limbs.
+
+"I think what we have left to do won't take very long. I hardly think
+that it is necessary for me to reply to the accusations brought by the
+gentleman who has just left us."
+
+"No, let's hear no more of it," said Preston. "I propose that we reply
+to Robinson to-night and have an end of the business. To-morrow we'll
+have plenty to think of without this," he added grimly.
+
+The reply was written and forwarded the next day to Robinson, and the
+following announcement was given out at Erskine:
+
+ The Athletic Committee has decided that Cowan is not eligible
+ to represent the college in the football game with Robinson,
+ and he has been withdrawn. A protest was received from the
+ Robinson athletic authorities yesterday afternoon, and an
+ investigation was at once made with the result stated. The
+ loss of Cowan will greatly weaken the team, it is feared, but
+ that fact has not been allowed to influence the committee.
+ The decision is heartily concurred in by the coaches, the
+ captain, and all officials, and, being in line with Erskine's
+ policy of purity in athletics, should have the instant
+ indorsement of the student body.
+
+ H.W. NAST, _Chairman_.
+
+The announcement, as was natural, brought consternation, and for several
+days the football situation was steeped in gloom. Witter and Hurst were
+seized upon by the coaches and drilled in the tactics of right-guard. As
+Foster had said, Witter, while he was a good player, was light for the
+position. Hurst, against whom no objection could be brought on the
+ground of weight, lacked experience. In the end Witter proved first
+choice, and Hurst was comforted with the knowledge that he was
+practically certain to get into the game before the whistle sounded for
+the last time.
+
+Meanwhile Artmouth came and saw and conquered to the tune of 6-0,
+profiting by the news of Cowan's withdrawal and piling their backs
+through Witter, Hurst, and Brown, all of whom took turns at right-guard.
+The game was not encouraging from the Erskine point of view, and the
+gloom deepened. Foster declared that it was so thick during the last
+half of the contest that he couldn't see the backs. Neil saw the game
+from the bench, and Paul, once more at left-half, played an excellent
+game; but, try as he might, could not outdo Gillam. When it was over
+Neil declared the honors even, but Paul took a less optimistic view and
+would not be comforted.
+
+All the evening, save for a short period when he went upstairs to
+sympathize with Cowan, he bewailed his fate into Neil's ears. The latter
+tried his best to comfort him, and predicted that on Monday Paul would
+find himself in Gillam's place. But he scarcely believed it himself, and
+so his prophecies were not convincing.
+
+"What's the good of being decent?" asked Paul dolefully. "I wish I'd
+gone to Robinson."
+
+"No, you don't," said Neil. "You'd rather sit on the side-line at
+Erskine than play with a lot of hired sluggers."
+
+"Much you know about it," Paul growled. "If I don't get into the
+Robinson game I'll--I'll leave college."
+
+"But what good would that do?" asked Neil.
+
+"I'd go somewhere where I'd stand a show. I'd go to Robinson or one of
+the smaller places."
+
+"I don't think you'd do anything as idiotic as that," answered Neil.
+"It'll be hard luck if you miss the big game, but you've got three more
+years yet. What's one? You're certain to stand the best kind of a show
+next year."
+
+"I don't see how. Gillam doesn't graduate until 1903."
+
+"But you can beat him out for the place next year. All you need is more
+experience. Gillam's been at it two years here. Besides, it would be
+silly to leave a good college just because you couldn't play on the
+football team. Don't be like Cowan and think football's the only thing a
+chap comes here for."
+
+"They've used him pretty shabbily," said Paul.
+
+"That's what Cowan thinks. I don't see how they could do anything else."
+
+"He's awfully cut up. I'm downright sorry for him. He says he's going to
+pack up and leave."
+
+"And he's been trying to make you do the same, eh?" asked Neil. "Well,
+you tell him I'm very well satisfied with Erskine and haven't the least
+desire to change."
+
+"You?" asked Paul.
+
+"Certainly. We hang together, don't we?"
+
+Paul grinned.
+
+"You're a good chap, chum," he said gratefully. "But--" relapsing again
+into gloom--"you're not losing your place on the team, and you don't
+know how it feels. When a fellow's set his heart on it--"
+
+"I think I do know," answered Neil. "I know how I felt when my shoulder
+went wrong and I thought I was off for good and all. I didn't like it.
+But cheer up, Paul, and give 'em fits Monday. Slam 'round, let yourself
+loose; show 'em what you can do. Down with Gillam!"
+
+"Oh, I dare say," muttered Paul dejectedly.
+
+Neil laid awake a long time that night; he was full of sympathy for his
+room-mate. With him friendship meant more than it does to the average
+boy of nineteen, and he was ready and eager to do anything in his power
+that would insure Paul's getting into the Robinson game. The trouble was
+that he could think of nothing, although he lay staring into the
+darkness, thinking and thinking, until Paul had been snoring comfortably
+across the room for more than an hour.
+
+The next afternoon, Sunday, Neil, obeying the trainer's instructions,
+went for a walk. Paul begged off from accompanying him, and Neil sought
+Sydney. That youth was delighted to go, and so, Neil alternately pushing
+the tricycle and walking beside it while Sydney propelled it himself,
+the two followed the river for several miles into the country. The
+afternoon was cold but bright, and being outdoors was a pleasure to any
+healthy person. Neil forgot some of his worries and remembered that,
+after all, he was still a boy; that football is not the chief thing in
+college life, and that ten years hence it would matter little to him
+whether he played for his university against her rival or looked on from
+the bench. And it was that thought that suggested to him a means of
+sparing Paul the bitter disappointment that he dreaded.
+
+The plan seemed both simple and feasible, and he wondered why he had not
+thought of it before. To be sure, it involved the sacrificing of an
+ambition of his own; but to-day, out here among the pines and beeches,
+with the clear blue sky overhead and the eager breeze bringing the color
+to his cheeks, the sacrifice seemed paltry and scarcely a sacrifice at
+all. He smiled to himself, glad to have found the solution of Paul's
+trouble, which was also his own; but suddenly it occurred to him that
+perhaps he had no right to do what he contemplated. The ethics were
+puzzling, and presently he turned to Sydney, who had been silently and
+contentedly wheeling himself along across the road, and sought
+his counsel.
+
+"Look here, Syd, you're a level-headed sort of chump. Give me your
+valuable opinion on this, will you? Now--it's a supposititious case, you
+know--here are two fellows, A and B, each trying for the
+same--er--prize. Now, supposing A has just about reached it and B has
+fallen behind; and supposing I--"
+
+"Eh?" asked Sydney.
+
+"Yes, I meant A. Supposing A knows that B is just as deserving of the
+prize as he is, and that--that he'll make equally as good use of it. Do
+you follow, Syd?"
+
+"Y--yes, I think so," answered the other doubtfully.
+
+"Well, now, the question I want your opinion on is this: Wouldn't it be
+perfectly fair for A to--well, slip a cog or two, you know--"
+
+"Slip a cog?" queried Sydney, puzzled.
+
+"Yes; that is," explained Neil, "play off a bit, but not enough for any
+of the fellows to suspect, and so let B get the plum?"
+
+"Well," answered Sydney, after a moment's consideration, "it sounds fair
+enough--"
+
+"That's what I think," said Neil eagerly.
+
+"But maybe A and B are not the only ones interested. How about the
+conditions of the contest? Don't they require that each man shall do his
+best? Isn't it intended that the prize shall go to the one who really
+is the best?"
+
+"Oh, well, in a manner, maybe," answered Neil. He was silent a moment.
+The ethics was more puzzling than ever. Then: "Of course, it's only a
+supposititious case, you understand, Syd," he assured him earnestly.
+
+"Oh, of course," answered the other readily. "Hadn't we better turn
+here?"
+
+The journey back was rather silent. Neil was struggling with his
+problem, and Sydney, too, seemed to have something on his mind. When the
+town came once more into view around a bend in the road Sydney
+interrupted Neil's thoughts.
+
+"Say, Neil, I've got a--a confession to make." His cheeks were very red
+and he looked extremely embarrassed. Neil viewed him in surprise.
+
+"A confession? You haven't murdered the Dean, have you?"
+
+"No. It--it's something rather different. I don't believe that it will
+make any difference in our--our friendship, but--it might."
+
+"It won't," said Neil. "Now, fire ahead."
+
+"Well, you recollect the day you found me on the way from the field and
+pushed me back to college?"
+
+"Of course. Your old ice-wagon had broken down and I--"
+
+"That's it," interrupted Sydney, with a little embarrassed laugh. "It
+hadn't."
+
+"What hadn't? Hadn't what?"
+
+"The machine; it hadn't broken down."
+
+"But I saw it," exclaimed Neil. "What do you mean, Syd?"
+
+"I mean that it hadn't really broken down, Neil. I--the truth is I had
+pried one of the links up with a screw-driver."
+
+Neil stared in a puzzled way.
+
+"But--what for?" he asked.
+
+"Don't you understand?" asked Sydney, shame-faced. "Because I wanted to
+know you, and I thought if you found me there with my machine busted
+you'd try to fix it; and I'd make your acquaintance. It--it was awfully
+dishonest, I know," muttered Sydney at the last.
+
+Neil stared for a moment in surprise. Then he clapped the other on the
+shoulder and laughed uproariously.
+
+"Oh, to think of guileless little Syd being so foxy!" he cried. "I
+wouldn't have believed it if any one else had told me, Syd."
+
+"Well," said Sydney, very red in the face, but joining in the laughter,
+"you don't mind?"
+
+"Mind?" echoed Neil, becoming serious again, "why of course I don't.
+What is there to mind, Syd? I'm glad you did it, awfully glad." He laid
+his arm over the shoulders of the lad on the seat. "Here, let me push a
+while. Queer you should have cared that much about knowing me; but--but
+I'm glad." Suddenly his laughter returned.
+
+"No wonder that old fossil in the village thought it was a queer sort of
+a break," he shouted. "He knew what he was talking about after all when
+he suggested cold-chisels, didn't he?"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+NEIL IS TAKEN OUT
+
+The Tuesday before the final contest dawned raw and wet. The elms in the
+yard _drip-dripped_ from every leafless twig and a fine mist covered
+everything with tiny beads of moisture. The road to the field, trampled
+by many feet, was soft and slippery. Sydney, almost hidden beneath
+rain-coat and oil-skin hat, found traveling hard work. Ahead of him
+marched five hundred students, marshaled by classes, a little army of
+bobbing heads and flapping mackintoshes, alternately cheering and
+singing. Dana, the senior-class president, strode at the head of the
+line and issued his commands through a big purple megaphone.
+
+Erskine was marching out to the field to cheer the eleven and to
+practise the songs that were to be chanted defiantly at the game. Sydney
+had started with his class, but had soon been left behind, the rubber
+tires of the machine slipping badly in the mud. Presently the head of
+the procession, but dimly visible to him through the mist, turned in at
+the gate, the monster flag of royal purple, with its big white E,
+drooping wet and forlorn on its staff. They were cheering again now, and
+Sydney whispered an accompaniment behind the collar of his coat:
+
+"Erskine! Erskine! Erskine! Rah-rah-rah, rah-rah-rah, rah-rah-rah!
+Erskine! Erskine! Erskine!"
+
+Suddenly footsteps sounded behind him and the tricycle went forward
+apparently of its own volition. Sydney turned quickly and saw Mills's
+blue eyes twinkling down at him.
+
+"Did I surprise you?" laughed the coach.
+
+"Yes, I thought my wheel had suddenly turned into an automobile."
+
+"Hard work for you, I'm afraid. You should have let me send a trap for
+you," said Mills. "Never mind those handles. Put your hands in your
+pockets and I'll get you there in no time. What a beast of a day,
+isn't it?"
+
+"Y--yes," answered Sydney, "I suppose it is. But I rather like it."
+
+"Like it? Great Scott! Why?"
+
+"Well, the mist feels good on your face, don't you think so? And the
+trees down there along the railroad look so gray and soft. I don't know,
+but there's something about this sort of a day that makes me feel good."
+
+"Well, every one to his taste," Mills replied. "By the way, here's
+something I cut out of the Robinson Argus; thought you'd like to see
+it." He drew a clipping from a pocketbook and gave it to Sydney, who,
+shielding it from the wet, read as follows:
+
+ Erskine, we hear, is crowing over a wonderful new play which
+ she thinks she has invented, and with which she expects to
+ get even for what happened last year. We have not seen the
+ new marvel, of course, but we understand that it is called a
+ "close formation." It is safe to say that it is an old play
+ revamped by Erskine's head coach, Mills. Last year Mills
+ discovered a form of guards-back which was heralded to the
+ four corners of the earth as the greatest play ever seen.
+ What happened to it is still within memory. Consequently we
+ are not greatly alarmed over the latest production of his
+ fertile brain. Robinson can, we think, find a means of
+ solving any puzzle that Erskine can put together.
+
+"They're rather hard on you," laughed Sydney as he returned the
+clipping.
+
+"I can stand it. I'm glad they haven't discovered that we are busy with
+a defense for their tackle-tandem. If we can keep that a secret for a
+few days longer I shall be satisfied."
+
+"I do hope it will come up to expectations," said Sydney doubtfully.
+"Now that the final test is drawing near I'm beginning to fear that
+maybe we--maybe we're too hopeful."
+
+"I know," answered Mills. "It's always that way. When I first began
+coaching I used to get into a regular blue funk every year just before
+the big game; used to think that everything was going wrong, and was
+firmly convinced until the whistle sounded that we were going to be torn
+to pieces and scattered to the winds. It's just nerves; you get used to
+it after a while. As for the new defense for tackle-tandem, it's all
+right. Maybe it won't stop Robinson altogether, but it's the best thing
+that a light team can put up against a heavy one playing Robinson's
+game; and I think that it's going to surprise her and worry her quite a
+lot. Whether it will keep her from scoring on the tackle play remains to
+be seen. That's a good deal to hope for. If we'd been able to try the
+play in a game with another college we would know more about what we can
+do with it. As it is, we only know that it will stop the second and that
+theoretically it is all right. We'll be wiser on the 23d.
+
+"Frankly, though, Burr," he continued, "as a play I don't like it. That
+is, I consider it too hard on the men; there's too much brute force and
+not enough science and skill about it; in fact, it isn't football. But
+as long as guards-back and tackle-back formations are allowed it's got
+to be played. It was a mistake in ever allowing more than four men
+behind the line. The natural formation of a football team consists of
+seven players in the line, and when you begin to take one or two of
+those players back you're increasing the element of physical force and
+lessening the element of science. More than that, you're playing into
+the hands of the anti-football people, and giving them further grounds
+for their charge of brutality.
+
+"Football's the noblest game that's played, but it's got to be played
+right. We did away with the old mass-play evil and then promptly
+invented the guards-back and the tackle-back. Before long we'll see our
+mistake and do away with those too; revise the rules so that the
+rush-line players can not be drawn back. Then we'll have football as it
+was meant to be played; and we'll have a more skilful game and one of
+more interest both to the players and spectators." Mills paused and
+then asked:
+
+"By the way, do you see much of Fletcher?"
+
+"Yes, quite a bit," answered Sydney. "We were together for two or three
+hours yesterday afternoon."
+
+"Indeed? And did you notice whether he appeared in good spirits? See any
+signs of worry?"
+
+"No, not that I recall. I thought he appeared to be feeling very
+cheerful. I know we laughed a good deal over--over something."
+
+"That's all right, then," answered the coach as they turned in through
+the gate and approached the locker-house. "I had begun to think that
+perhaps he had something on his mind that troubled him. He seemed a bit
+listless yesterday at practise. How about his studies? All right
+there, is he?"
+
+"Oh, yes. Fletcher gets on finely. He was saying only a day or two ago
+that he was surprised to find them going so easily."
+
+"Well, don't mention our talk to him, please; he might start to
+worrying, and that's what we don't want, you know. Perhaps he'll be in
+better shape to-day. We'll try him in the 'antidote.'"
+
+But contrary to the hopes of the head coach, Neil showed no improvement.
+His playing was slow, and he seemed to go at things in a half-hearted
+way far removed from his usual dash and vim. Even the signals appeared
+to puzzle him at times, and more than once Foster turned upon him
+in surprise.
+
+"Say, what the dickens is the matter with you, Neil?" he whispered once.
+Neil showed surprise.
+
+"Why, nothing; I'm all right."
+
+"Well, I'm glad you told me," grumbled the quarter-back, "for I'd never
+have guessed it, my boy."
+
+Before the end of the ten minutes of open practise was over Neil had
+managed to make so many blunders that even the fellows on the seats
+noticed and remarked upon it. Later, when the singing and cheering were
+over and the gates were closed behind the last marching freshman, Neil
+found himself in hot water. The coaches descended upon him in a small
+army, and he stood bewildered while they accused him of every sin in the
+football decalogue. Devoe took a hand, too, and threatened to put him
+off if he didn't wake up.
+
+"Play or get off the field," he said. "And, hang it all, man, look
+intelligent, as though you liked the game!"
+
+Neil strove to look intelligent by banishing the expression of
+bewilderment from his face, and stood patiently by until the last coach
+had hurled the last bolt at his defenseless head--defenseless, that is,
+save for the head harness that was dripping rain-drops down his neck.
+Then he trotted off to the line-up with a queer, half-painful grin
+on his face.
+
+"I guess it's settled for me," he said to, himself, as he rubbed his
+cold, wet hands together. "Evidently I sha'n't have to play off to give
+Paul his place; I've done it already. I suppose I've been bothering my
+head about it until I've forgotten what I've been doing. I wish
+though--" he sighed--"I wish it hadn't been necessary to disgust Mills
+and Bob Devoe and all the others who have been so decent and have hoped
+so much of me. But it's settled now. Whether it's right or wrong, I'm
+going to play like a fool until they get tired of jumping on me and just
+yank me out in sheer disgust.
+
+"Simson's got his eagle eye on me, the old ferret! And he will have me
+on the hospital list to-morrow, I'll bet a dollar. He'll say I've gone
+'fine' and tell me to get plenty of sleep and stay outdoors. And the
+doctor will give me a lot of nasty medicine. Well, it's all in the
+bargain. I'd like to have played in Saturday's game, though; but Paul
+has set his heart on it, and if he doesn't make the team he'll have
+seven fits. It means more to him than it does to me, and next fall will
+soon be here. I can wait."
+
+"_Fletcher! Wake up, will you_?"
+
+Foster was glaring at him angrily. The blood rushed into Neil's face and
+he leaped to his position. Even Ted Foster's patience had given out,
+Neil told himself; and he, like all the rest, would have only contempt
+for him to-morrow. The ball was wet and slimy and easily fumbled. Neil
+lost it the first time it came into his hands.
+
+"Who dropped that ball?" thundered Mills, striding into the back-field,
+pushing players left and right.
+
+"I did," answered Neil, striving to meet the coach's flashing eyes and
+failing miserably.
+
+"You did? Well, do it just once more, Fletcher, and you'll go off! And
+you'll find it hard work getting back again, too. Bear that in mind,
+please." He turned to the others. "Now get together here! Put some life
+into things! Stop that plunging right here! If the second gets another
+yard you'll hear from me!"
+
+"First down; two yards to gain!" called Jones, who was acting as
+referee.
+
+The second came at them again, tackle-back, desperately, fighting hard.
+But the varsity held, and on the next down held again.
+
+"That's better," cried Mills.
+
+"Use your weight, Baker!" shrieked one of the second's coaches, slapping
+the second's left-guard fiercely on the back to lend vehemence to
+the command.
+
+"Center, your man got you that time," cried another. "Into him now!
+Throw him back! Get through!"
+
+Ten coaches were raving and shrieking at once.
+
+"Signal!" cried the second's quarter, Reardon. The babel was hushed,
+save for the voice of Mills crying:
+
+"Steady! Steady! Hold them, varsity!"
+
+"_44--64--73--81!_" came Reardon's muffled voice. Then the second's
+backs plunged forward. Neil and Gillam met them with a crash; cries and
+confusion reigned; the lines shoved and heaved; the backs hurled
+themselves against the swaying group; a smothered voice gasped "Down!"
+the whistle shrilled.
+
+"Varsity's ball!" said the referee. "First down!"
+
+The coaches began their tirades anew. Mills spoke to Foster aside. Then
+the lines again faced each other. Foster glanced back toward Neil.
+
+"_14--12--34--9!_" he sang. It was a kick from close formation. Neil
+changed places with full-back. He had forgotten for the moment the role
+he had set himself to play, and only thought of the ball that was flying
+toward him from center. He would do his best. The pigskin settled into
+his hands and he dropped it quickly, kicking it fairly on the rebound.
+But the second was through, and the ball banged against an upstretched
+hand and was lost amidst a struggling group of players. In a moment it
+came to light tightly clutched by Brown of the second eleven.
+
+"I don't have to make believe," groaned Neil. "Fate's playing squarely
+into my hands."
+
+Five minutes later the leather went to him for a run outside of left
+tackle. He never knew whether he tried to do it or really stumbled, but
+he fell before the line was reached, and in a twinkling three of the
+second eleven were pushing his face into the muddy turf. The play had
+lost the varsity four yards. Mills glared at Neil, but said not a word.
+Neil smiled weakly as he went back to his place.
+
+"I needn't try any more," he thought wearily. "He's made up his mind to
+put me off."
+
+A minute later the half ended. When the next one began Paul Gale went in
+at left half-back on the varsity. And Neil, trotting to the
+locker-house, told himself that he was glad, awfully glad, and wished
+the tears wouldn't come into his eyes.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+ON THE EVE OF BATTLE
+
+Neil was duly pronounced "fine" by the trainer, dosed by the doctor, and
+disregarded by the coaches. Mills, having finally concluded that he was
+too risky a person for the line-up on Saturday, figuratively labeled him
+"declined" and passed him over to Tassel, head coach of the second
+eleven. Tassel displayed no enthusiasm, for a good player gone "fine" is
+at best a poor acquisition, and of far less practical value than a poor
+player in good condition. It made little difference to Neil what team he
+belonged to, for he was prohibited from playing on Wednesday, and on
+Thursday the last practise took place and he was in the line-up but five
+minutes. On that day the students again marched to the field and
+practised their songs and cheers. Despite the loss of Cowan and the
+lessening thereby of Erskine's chance of success, enthusiasm reigned
+high. Perhaps their own cheers raised their spirit, for two days before
+the game the college was animated by a totally unwarranted degree of
+hopefulness that amounted almost to confidence. The coaches, however,
+remained carefully pessimistic and took pains to see that the players
+did not share the general hopefulness.
+
+"We may win," said Mills to them after the last practise, "but don't
+think for a moment that it's going to be easy. If we do come out on top
+it will be because every one of you has played as he never dreamed he
+could play. You've got to play your own positions perfectly and then
+help to play each other's. Remember what I've said about team-play.
+Don't think that your work is done when you've put your man out; that's
+the time for you to turn around and help your neighbor. It's just that
+eagerness to aid the next man, that stand-and-fall-together spirit, that
+makes the ideal team. I don't want to see any man on Saturday standing
+around with his hands at his sides; as long as the ball's in play
+there's work for every one. Don't cry 'Down' until you can't run, crawl,
+wriggle, roll, or be pulled another inch. And if you're helping the
+runner don't stop pulling or shoving until there isn't another notch to
+be gained. Never mind how many tacklers there are; the ball's in play
+until the whistle sounds. And, one thing more, remember that you're not
+going to do your best because I tell you to, or because if you don't the
+coaches will give you a wigging, or because a lot of your fellows are
+looking on. You're going to fight your hardest, fight until the last
+whistle blows, fight long after you can't fight any more, because
+you're wearing the Purple of old Erskine and can't do anything else
+but fight!"
+
+The cheer that followed was good to hear. There was not a fellow there
+that didn't feel, at that moment, more than a match for any two men
+Robinson could set up against him. And many a hand clenched
+involuntarily, and many a player registered his silent vow to fight, as
+Mills had said, long after he couldn't fight any more, and, if it
+depended on him, win the game for old Erskine.
+
+On Friday afternoon the men were assembled in the gymnasium and were
+drilled in signals and put through a hard examination in formations.
+Afterward several of the coaches addressed them earnestly, touching each
+man on the spot that hurt, showing them where they failed and how to
+remedy their defects, but never goading them to despondency.
+
+"I should be afraid of a team that was perfect the day before the game,"
+said Preston; "afraid that when the real struggle came they'd disappoint
+me. A team should go into the final contest with the ability to play a
+little better than it has played at any time during the season; with a
+certain amount of power in reserve. And so I expect to-morrow to see
+almost all of the faults that we have talked of eliminated. I expect to
+see every man do that little better that means so much. And if he does
+he'll make Mr. Mills happy, he'll make all the other coaches happy,
+he'll make his captain and himself happy, and he'll make the college
+happy. And he'll make Robinson unhappy!"
+
+Then the line-up that was to start the game was read. Neil, sitting
+listlessly between Paul and Foster, heard it with a little ache at his
+heart. He was glad that Paul was not to be disappointed, but it was hard
+to think that he was to have no part in the supreme battle for which he
+had worked conscientiously all the fall, and the thought of which had
+more than once given him courage to go on when further effort seemed
+impossible.
+
+"Stone, Tucker, Browning, Stowell, Witter, Carey, Devoe, Foster, Gale--"
+
+"Good for you, Paul," whispered Neil. Then he sighed as the list went
+on--
+
+"Gillam, Mason."
+
+Then a long string of substitutes was read. Neil's name was among these,
+but that fact meant little enough.
+
+"Every man whose name has been read report at eleven to-morrow for
+lunch. Early to bed is the rule for every one to-night, and I want every
+one to obey it." Mills paused; then he went on in softer tones: "Some of
+you are disappointed. Some of you have worked faithfully--you all have,
+for that matter--only to meet with disappointment to-day. But we can't
+put you all in the line-up; I wish we could. But to those who have tried
+so hard and so honestly for positions in to-morrow's game, and who have
+of necessity been left out, I can only offer the sympathy of myself and
+the other coaches, and of the other players. You have done your share,
+and it no doubt seems hard that you are to have no better share in the
+final test. But let me tell you that even though you do not play against
+Robinson, you have nevertheless done almost as much toward defeating her
+as though you faced her to-morrow. It's the season's work that
+counts--the long, hard preparation--and in that you've had your place
+and done your part well. And for that I thank you on behalf of myself,
+on behalf of the coaches who have been associated with me, and on behalf
+of the college. And now I am going to ask you fellows of the varsity to
+give three long Erskines, three-times-three, and three long 'scrubs'
+on the end!"
+
+And they were given not once, but thrice. And then the scrub lustily
+cheered the varsity, and they both cheered Mills and Devoe and Simson
+and all the coaches one after another. And when the last long-drawn
+"Erskine" had died away Mills faced them again.
+
+"There's one more cheer I want to hear, fellows, and I think you'll give
+it heartily. In to-morrow's game we are going to use a form of defense
+that will, I believe, enable us to at least render a good account of
+ourselves. And, as most of you know, this defense was thought out and
+developed by a fellow who, although unfortunately unable to play the
+game himself, is nevertheless one of the finest football men in
+college. If we win to-morrow a great big share of the credit will be due
+to that man; if we lose he still will have done as much as any two of
+us. Fellows, I ask for three cheers for Burr!"
+
+Mills led that cheer himself and it was a good one. The pity of it was
+that Sydney wasn't there to hear it.
+
+The November twilight was already stealing down over the campus when
+Neil and Paul left the gymnasium and made their way back to Curtis's.
+Paul was highly elated, for until the line-up had been read he had been
+uncertain of his fate. But his joy was somewhat dampened by the fact
+that Neil had failed to make the team.
+
+"It doesn't seem just right for me to go into the game, chum, with you
+on the side-line," he said. "I don't see what Mills is thinking of! Who
+in thunder's to kick for us?"
+
+"I guess you'll be called on, Paul, if any field-goals are needed."
+
+"I suppose so, but--hang it, Neil, I wish you were going to play!"
+
+"Well, so do I," answered Neil calmly; "but I'm not, and so that settles
+it. After all, they couldn't do anything else, Paul, but let me out.
+I've been playing perfectly rotten lately."
+
+"But--but what's the matter? You don't look stale, chum."
+
+"I feel stale, just the same," answered Neil far from untruthfully.
+
+"But maybe you'll get in for a while; you're down with the subs," said
+Paul hopefully.
+
+"Maybe I will. Maybe you'll get killed and Gillam'll get killed and a
+few more'll get killed and they'll take me on. But don't you worry about
+me; I'm all right."
+
+Paul looked at him as though rather puzzled.
+
+"By Jove, I don't believe you care very much whether you play or don't,"
+he said at last. "If it had been me they'd let out I'd simply gone off
+into a dark corner and died."
+
+"I'm glad it wasn't you," answered Neil heartily.
+
+"Thunder! So'm I!"
+
+The college in general had taken Neil's deflection philosophically after
+the first day or so of wonderment and dismay. The trust in Mills was
+absolute, and if Mills said Fletcher wasn't as good as Gale for left
+half-back, why, he wasn't; that was all there was about it. There was
+one person in college, however, who was not deceived. Sydney Burr,
+recollecting Neil's "supposititious case," never doubted that Neil had
+purposely sacrificed himself for his room-mate. At first he was inclined
+to protest to Neil, even to go the length of making Mills cognizant of
+the real situation; but in the end he kept his own counsel, doubtful of
+his right to interfere. And, in some way, he grew to think that Paul was
+not in the dark; that he knew of Neil's plan and was lending his
+sanction to it; that, in fact, the whole arrangement was a conspiracy in
+which both Neil and Paul shared equally. In this he did Paul injustice,
+as he found out later.
+
+He went to Neil's room that Friday night for a few minutes and found
+Paul much wrought up over the disappearance of Tom Cowan. Cowan's room
+looked as though a cyclone had struck it, Paul declared, and Cowan
+himself was nowhere to be found.
+
+"I'll bet he's done what he said he'd do and left," said Paul. But
+Sydney had seen him but an hour or so before at commons, and Paul set
+out to hunt him up.
+
+"I know you chaps don't like him," he said; "but he's been mighty decent
+to me, and I don't want to seem to be going back on him just now when
+he's so down on his luck. I'll be back in a few minutes."
+
+Sydney found Neil quite cheerful and marveled at it. He himself was
+oppressed by a nervousness that couldn't have been worse had he been due
+to face Robinson's big center the next day. He feared the "antidote"
+wouldn't work right; he feared Robinson had found out all about it and
+had changed their offense; he feared a dozen evils, and Neil was kept
+busy comforting him. At nine o'clock Paul returned without tidings of
+Cowan, and Sydney said good-night.
+
+"I don't believe I'll go out to the field to-morrow," he said half
+seriously. "I'll stay in my room and listen to the cheering. If it
+sounds right toward the end of the game I'll know that things have
+gone our way."
+
+"You won't be able to tell anything of the sort," said Neil, "for the
+fellows are going to cheer just as hard if we lose as they would had we
+won. Mills insists on that, and what he says goes this year."
+
+"That's so," said Paul; "and it's the way it ought to be. If ever a team
+needs cheering and encouragement it's when things are blackest, and not
+when it's winning."
+
+"And so, you see, you'll have to go to the field, Syd," said Neil as he
+followed the other out to the porch. "By Jove, what a night, eh? I never
+saw so many stars, I believe. Well, we'll have a good clear day for the
+game and a good turf underfoot. Good-night, Syd."
+
+"Good-night," answered the other. Then, sorrowfully, "I do wish you were
+going to play, Neil."
+
+"Thanks, Syd; but don't let that keep you awake. Good-night!"
+
+The room-mates chatted in a desultory way for half an hour longer and
+then prepared for bed. Paul was somewhat nervous and excited, and
+displayed a tendency to stop short in the middle of removing a stocking
+to gaze blankly before him for whole minutes at a time. Once he stood
+so long on one leg with his trousers half off that Neil feared he had
+gone to sleep, and so brought him back to a recollection of the business
+in hand by shying a boot at him.
+
+As for Neil, he was untroubled by nervousness. He believed Erskine was
+going to win. For the rest, the eve of battle held no exciting thoughts
+for him. He could neither win the game nor lose it; he was merely a
+spectator, like thousands of others; only he would see the contest from
+the players' bench instead of the big new stand that half encircled
+the field.
+
+But despite the feeling of aloofness that possessed and oppressed him,
+sleep did not come readily. For a long time he heard Paul stirring about
+restlessly across the little bedroom and the occasional cheers of some
+party of patriotic students returning to their rooms across the common.
+His brain refused to stop its labors; and, in fact, kept busily at them
+long after he had fallen asleep. He dreamed continually, a ceaseless
+stream of weird, unpleasant visions causing him to turn and toss all
+through the night and leaving him when dawn came weary and unrefreshed.
+
+Out of doors the early sun was brushing away the white frost. The sky
+was almost devoid of clouds, and the naked branches of the elms reached
+upward unswayed by any breeze. It was an ideal day, that 23d of
+November, bright, clear, and keen. Nature could not have been kinder to
+the warriors who, in a few short hours, were to meet upon the yellowing
+turf, nor to the thousands who were to assemble and cheer them on to
+victory--or defeat.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+COWAN BECOMES INDIGNANT
+
+Breakfast at the training-table that morning was a strange meal, to
+which the fellows loitered in at whatever hour best pleased them. Many
+showed signs of restless slumber, and the trainer was as watchful as an
+old hen with a brood of chickens. For some there were Saturday morning
+recitations; those who were free were sent out to the field at ten
+o'clock and were put through a twenty-minute signal practise. Among
+these were Neil and Paul. A trot four times around the gridiron ended
+the morning's work, and they were dismissed with orders to report at
+twelve o'clock for lunch.
+
+Neil, Paul, and Foster walked back together, and it was the last that
+suggested going down to the depot to see the arrival of the Robinson
+players. So they turned down Poplar Street to Main and made their way
+along in front of the row of stores there. The village already showed
+symptoms of excitement. The windows were dressed in royal purple, with
+here and there a touch of the brown of Robinson, and the sidewalk
+already held many visitors, while others were invading the college
+grounds across the street. Farther on the trio passed the bicycle
+repair-shop. In front of the door, astride an empty box, sat the
+proprietor, sunning himself and keeping a careful watch on the village
+happenings. With a laugh Neil left his companions and ran across
+the street.
+
+"Good-morning," he said. The little man on the box looked up inquiringly
+but failed to recognize his tormentor.
+
+"Mornin'," he grunted suspiciously.
+
+"I wanted to tell you," said Neil gravely, "that your diagnosis was
+correct, after all."
+
+"Hey?" asked the little man querulously.
+
+"Yes, it _was_ a cold-chisel that did it," said Neil. "You remember you
+said it was."
+
+"Cold-chisel? Say, what you talkin'--" Then a light of recognition
+sprang into his weazened features. "You're the feller that owes me a
+quarter!" he cried shrilly, scrambling to his feet.
+
+Neil was off on the instant. As the three went on toward the station the
+little man's denunciations followed them:
+
+"You come back here an' pay me that quarter! If I knew yer name I'd have
+ther law on yer! But I know yer face, an' I'll--"
+
+"His name's Legion," called Ted Foster over his shoulder.
+
+"Hey? What?" shrieked the repair man.
+
+"Legion!"
+
+"I don't know what you say, but I'll report that feller ter th'
+authorities!"
+
+Then a long whistle broke in upon the discussion, and the three rushed
+for the station platform.
+
+From the vantage-point of a baggage-truck they watched the Robinson
+players and the accompanying contingent descend from the train. There
+were twenty-eight of the former, heavily built, strapping-looking
+fellows, and with them a small army of coaches, trainers, and
+supporters. Neil dug his elbow against Paul.
+
+"Look," he said, "there's your friend Brill."
+
+And sure enough, there was the Robinson coach who had visited the two at
+Hillton a year before and tried to get them to go to the rival college.
+
+"If you'd like to make arrangements for next year, Paul," Neil whispered
+mischievously, "now's your time."
+
+But Paul grinned and shook his head.
+
+The players and most of the coaches tumbled into carriages and were
+taken out to Erskine Field for a short practise, and the balance of the
+arrivals started on foot toward the hotel. The three friends retraced
+their steps. Luckily, the proprietor of the bicycle repair-shop was so
+busy looking over the strangers that they passed unseen in the little
+stream. There remained the better part of an hour before lunch-time, and
+they found themselves at a loss for a way to spend the time. Foster
+finally went off to his room, as he explained airily, "to dash off a
+letter on his typewriter," a statement that was greeted with howls of
+derision from the others, who, for want of a better place, went into
+Butler's bookstore and aimlessly looked over the magazines and papers.
+
+It was while thus engaged that Paul heard his name spoken, and turned to
+find Mr. Brill smilingly holding out his hand.
+
+"I thought I wasn't mistaken," the Robinson coach said as they shook
+hands. "And isn't that your friend Fletcher over there?"
+
+Neil heard and came over, and the three stood and talked for a few
+minutes. Mr. Brill seemed well pleased with the football outlook.
+
+"I'll wager you gentlemen will regret not coming to us after to-day's
+game is over," he laughed. "I hear you've got something up your sleeve."
+
+"We have," said Neil.
+
+"So I heard. What's the nature of it?"
+
+"It's muscle," answered Neil gravely.
+
+The coach laughed. "Of course, if it's a secret, I don't want to hear
+it. But I think you're safe to get beaten, secret or no secret, eh?"
+
+"Nonsense!" said Paul. "You won't know what struck you when we get
+through with you."
+
+Mr. Brill laughed good-naturedly but didn't look alarmed.
+
+"By the way," he said, "I saw one of your players a while
+ago--Cowan--the fellow we protested. He seemed rather sore."
+
+"Where was he?" asked Paul eagerly.
+
+"In a drug-store down there toward the next corner. Have your coaches
+found a good man for his place?"
+
+"Oh, yes, it wasn't hard to fill," answered Neil. "Witter's got it."
+
+"Witter? I don't think I've heard of him."
+
+"No, he's not famous--yet; you'll know him better later on."
+
+Paul was plainly anxious to go in search of Cowan, and so they bade the
+Robinson coach good-by. Out on the sidewalk Neil turned a troubled face
+toward his friend.
+
+"Say, Paul, Cowan knows all about the 'antidote,' doesn't he?"
+
+"Why, yes, I suppose so; he's seen it played."
+
+"And he knows the signals, too, eh?"
+
+"Of course. Why?"
+
+"Well, I've been wondering whether--You heard what Brill said--that
+Cowan was feeling sore? Well, do you suppose he'd be mean enough
+to--to--"
+
+"By thunder!" muttered Paul. Then: "No, I don't believe that Cowan would
+do a thing like that. I don't think he's a--a traitor!"
+
+"Well, you know him better than I do," said Neil, "and I dare say you're
+right. Only--only I wish we could be certain."
+
+"I'll find him," answered Paul determinedly. "You wait here for me; or,
+no, I may have to hunt; I'll see you at lunch. I'll find out all right."
+
+He was off on the instant. As he had told Neil, he didn't believe that
+Cowan would reveal secrets to Brill or any other of the Robinson people;
+but--well, he realized that Cowan was feeling very much aggrieved, and
+that he might in his present state of mind do what in a saner moment he
+would not consider. At the drug-store he was told that Cowan had left a
+few minutes before. The only place that Paul could think of where Cowan
+was likely to be was his room, so thither he went. He found the deposed
+guard engaged in replacing certain of his pictures and ornaments which
+had been taken down.
+
+"Hello!" he said. "Thought you'd cut my acquaintance too."
+
+"Nonsense," answered Paul, "I've been trying to find you ever since last
+night. Where've you been?"
+
+"Oh, just knocking around. I got back late last night."
+
+"I was afraid you had left college. You know you said you might."
+
+"I know. Well, I've changed my mind. I guess I'll stay on until recess
+anyway; maybe until summer. What's the use going anywhere else? If I
+went to Robinson I couldn't play; Erskine would protest me. I wish to
+goodness I'd had sense enough to let that academy team go hang! Only I
+needed some money, and it seemed a good way to make it. After all, there
+wasn't anything dishonest about it!"
+
+"N--no," said Paul.
+
+"Well, was there?" Cowan demanded, turning upon him fiercely. Paul shook
+his head.
+
+"No, there wasn't. Only, of course, you'd ought to have remembered that
+it disqualified you here." Cowan looked surprised.
+
+"My, but you're getting squeamish!" he said. "The first thing you know
+you'll be as bad as Fletcher." There was a moment's silence. "What does
+he say about it?" Cowan asked carelessly.
+
+"Who, Neil? Oh, he--he sympathizes with you," answered Paul vaguely.
+"Says it's awfully hard lines, but doesn't think the committee could do
+anything else."
+
+"Humph!"
+
+"By the way," said Paul, recollecting his errand, "I met Brill of
+Robinson a while ago. He said he'd seen you."
+
+"Yes," grunted Cowan. "I'd like to punch him. Made believe he was all
+cut up over my being put off. Why--why it was he that knew about that
+academy business! Last September he tried to get me to go to Robinson;
+offered me anything I wanted, and I refused. After all a--a fellow's got
+some loyalty! He asked all sorts of questions as to whether I was
+eligible or not, and I--I don't know what made me, but I told him about
+taking that money for playing tackle on that old academy team. He said
+that wouldn't matter any. But after I decided not to go to Robinson he
+changed his tune; said he wasn't sure but that I was ineligible!"
+
+"He's a cad," said Paul."
+
+"And then to-day he tried to get sympathetic, but I shut him up mighty
+quick. I told him I knew well enough he was the one who had started the
+protest, and offered to punch his nose if he'd come over back of the
+stores; but he wouldn't," added Cowan aggrievedly.
+
+"You--you didn't let out anything to him that would--er--help them in
+the game, did you?" asked Paul, studying the floor with great attention.
+
+"Let out anything?" asked Cowan in puzzled tones. "What do you--" He put
+down the picture he held and faced Paul, the blood dying his face. "Look
+here, Paul, what do you mean by that?"
+
+"Why, why--"
+
+"You want to know if I turned traitor? If I gave away our signals or
+something like that, eh?" There was honest indignation in his voice and
+a trace of pain, and Paul regretted his suspicions on the instant.
+
+"Oh, come now, old man," he began, "what I meant--"
+
+"Now let me tell you something, Gale," said Cowan. "I may not be so nice
+as you and Fletcher and Devoe and a lot more of your sort, but I'm not
+an out-and-out rascal and traitor! And I didn't think you'd put that on
+me, by Jove! I've no love for some of the fellows in this college, nor
+for Mills, and I wouldn't care if we got beaten--" He paused. "Yes, I
+would, too; I want Robinson to get done up so hard that they'll throw
+that cheat Brill out of there. But I want you to understand right here
+and now that I'm not cad enough to sell signals."
+
+"I beg your pardon, Tom," said Paul earnestly. "I didn't think it of
+you. Only, when Brill said he'd seen you and that you were feeling
+sore, we--I--"
+
+"Oh, so it was Fletcher that suspected it, was it?" demanded Cowan.
+
+"No more than I," answered Paul stoutly. "We neither of us really
+thought you'd turn traitor, but I was afraid that, feeling the way you
+naturally would, you might thoughtlessly say something that Brill could
+make use of. That's all"
+
+Cowan looked doubtful for a moment, then he sniffed.
+
+"Well, all right," he said finally. "Forget it."
+
+"You're going out to the game, aren't you?" Paul asked.
+
+"Yes, I guess so. What's Fletcher think of being laid off?"
+
+"Well, he doesn't seem to mind it as I thought he would. I--I don't know
+quite what to make of him. It almost seems that he's--well, glad of it!"
+
+"Huh! You've got another guess, my friend."
+
+"How's that? What do you mean?"
+
+"Nothing much; only I guess I've got better eyes than you," responded
+Cowan with a grin. After a pause during which he rearranged the objects
+on the mantel-shelf to his satisfaction, he turned to Paul again:
+
+"Say, do you think Fletcher and I could get on together if--well, if we
+knew each other better?"
+
+"I'm sure you could," answered Paul eagerly.
+
+"Well, I think I'd like to try it. He--he's not a bad sort of a chap.
+Only maybe he wouldn't care to--er--"
+
+"Oh, yes, he would," answered Paul. "You'll see, Tom."
+
+"Well, maybe so. Going? Good luck to you. I'll see you on the field."
+
+Paul hurried around the long curve of Elm Street toward Pearson's
+boarding-house, where the players were already gathering for luncheon.
+He found Neil on the steps and dragged him off and down to the gate.
+
+"It's all right," he said. "I found him and asked him, and I wish I
+hadn't. He was awfully cut up about it; seemed hurt to think I could
+suspect such a thing. Though, really, I didn't quite suspect, you know."
+
+"I'm sorry we hurt his feelings," said Neil. "It was a bit mean of me to
+suggest it."
+
+"He's going to stay for a while," went on Paul. "And--and--Look here,
+chum, don't you think that if--er--you tried you could get to like him
+better? From something he said to-day I found out that he thinks you're
+a good sort and he'd like to get on with you. Maybe if we kind of looked
+after him we could--oh, I don't know! But you see what I mean?"
+
+"Yes, I see what you mean," replied Neil thoughtfully. "And maybe we'd
+get on better if we tried again. Anyhow, Paul, you ask him down to the
+room some night and--and we'll see."
+
+"Thanks," said Paul gratefully. "And now let's get busy with the funeral
+baked beans--I mean meats. Gee, I've got about as much appetite as a
+fly! I--I wish the game was over with!"
+
+"So do I," answered Neil, as with a sigh he listlessly followed his chum
+into the house.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+THE "ANTIDOTE" IS ADMINISTERED
+
+[Illustration]
+
+High up against a fair blue sky studded with fleecy clouds streamed a
+banner of royal purple bearing in its center a great white E--a flare of
+intense color visible from afar over the topmost branches of the empty
+elms, and a beacon toward which the stream of spectators set their
+steps. In the tower of College Hall the old bell struck two o'clock, and
+the throngs at the gates of Erskine Field moved faster, swaying and
+pushing past the ticket-takers and streaming out onto the field toward
+the big stands already piled high with laughing, chattering humanity.
+Under the great flag stretched a long bank of somber grays and black
+splashed thickly with purple, looking from a little distance as though
+the big banner had dripped its dye on to the multitude beneath.
+Opposite, the rival tiers of crowded seats were pricked out lavishly
+with the rich but less brilliant brown, while at the end of the
+enclosure, where the throngs entered, a smaller stand flaunted the two
+colors in almost equal proportions.
+
+And between stretched a smooth expanse of russet-hued turf ribbed with
+white lines that glared in the afternoon sunlight.
+
+The college band, augmented for the occasion from the ranks of the
+village musicians, played blithely; some twelve thousand persons talked,
+laughed, or shouted ceaselessly; and the cheering sections were loudly
+contending for vocal supremacy. And suddenly on to this scene trotted a
+little band of men in black sweaters with purple 'E's, nice new canvas
+trousers, and purple and black stockings; and just as suddenly the north
+stand arose and the Robinson cheers were blotted out by a mighty chorus
+that swept from end to end of the structure and thundered impressively
+across the field:
+
+"_Erskine! Erskine! Erskine! Rah-rah-rah, rah-rah-rah, rah-rah-rah!
+Erskine! Erskine! Erskine!_"
+
+It was repeated over and over, and might, perhaps, have been sounding
+yet had not the Robinson players, sturdy, brown-clad youths, ambled onto
+the field. Then it was Robinson's turn to make a noise, and she made it;
+there's no doubt about that.
+
+"_Rah-rah-rah! Robinson! Rah-rah-rah! Robinson! Rah-rah-rah! Robinson!
+Robinson! Robinson!_"
+
+The substitutes of both teams retired to the benches and the players who
+were to start the game warmed up. Over near the east goal three Erskine
+warriors were trying--alas, not very successfully!--to kick the ball
+over the cross-bar; they were Devoe and Paul and Mason. Nearer at hand
+Ted Foster was personally conducting a little squad around the field by
+short stages, and his voice, shrilly cheerful, thrilled doubting
+supporters of the Purple hopefully. Robinson's players were going
+through much the same antics at the other end of the gridiron, and there
+was a business-like air about them that caused many an Erskine watcher
+to scent defeat for his college.
+
+The cheers had given place to songs, and the leader of the band faced
+the occupants of the north stand and swung his baton vigorously.
+Presumably the band was playing, but unless you had been in its
+immediate vicinity you would never have known it. Many of the popular
+airs of the day had been refitted with new words for the occasion. As
+poetic compositions they were not remarkable, but sung with enthusiasm
+by several hundred sturdy voices they answered the purpose. Robinson
+replied in kind, but in lesser volume, and the preliminary battle, the
+war of voices, went on until three persons, a youth in purple, a youth
+in brown, and a man in everyday attire, met in the middle of the field
+and watched a coin spin upward in the sunlight and fall to the ground.
+Then speedily the contesting forces took their position, the lines-men
+and timekeeper hurried forward, and the great stands were
+almost stilled.
+
+Erskine had the ball and the west goal. Stowell poised the pigskin to
+his liking and drew back. Devoe shouted a last word of caution. The
+referee, a well-known football player and coach, raised his whistle.
+
+"Are you ready, Erskine? All ready, Robinson?"
+
+Then the whistle shrilled, the timekeeper's watch clicked, the ball sped
+away, and the game had begun.
+
+The brown-clad skirmishers leaped forward to oppose the invaders, while
+the pigskin, slowly revolving, arched in long flight toward the west
+goal. It struck near the ten-yard line and the wily Robinson left half
+let it go; but instead of rolling over the goal-line it bumped
+erratically against the left post and bobbed back to near the first
+white line. The left half was on it then like a flash, but the Erskine
+forwards were almost upon him and his run was only six yards long, and
+it was Robinson's ball on her ten-yard line. The north stand was
+applauding vociferously this stroke of fortune. If Erskine could get
+possession of the ball now she might be able to score; but her coaches,
+watching intently from the side-line, knew that only the veriest fluke
+could give the pigskin to the Purple. And meanwhile, with hearts beating
+a little faster than usual, they awaited the first practical test of the
+"antidote."
+
+Robinson lined up quickly. Left tackle dropped from the line, and taking
+a position between full-back and right half, formed the center of the
+tandem that faced the tackle-guard hole on the right. Left half stood
+well back, behind quarter, ready to oppose any Erskine players who
+managed to get around the left of their line. The full-back who headed
+the tandem was a notable line-bucker, although his weight was but 172
+pounds. The left tackle, Balcom, tipped the scales at 187, while the
+third member of the trio was twenty pounds lighter. Together they
+represented 525 pounds.
+
+Opposed to them were Gillam and Mason, whose combined weight was 312
+pounds. Gillam stood between left-guard and tackle, with Mason, his
+hands on the other's shoulders, close behind.
+
+The Robinson quarter stared for an instant with interest at the opposing
+formation, and the full-back, crouched forward ready to plunge across
+the little space that divided him from the opponents' territory, looked
+uneasy. Then the quarter stooped behind the big center.
+
+"_Signal!_" he called. "_12--21--212!_"
+
+The ball came back to him. At the same instant the tandem moved forward,
+the Erskine guard and tackle engaged the opposing guard and tackle, and
+Gillam and Mason shot through the hole, the former with head down and a
+padded shoulder presented to the enemy, and the latter steadying him and
+hurling him forward. Then two things happened at the same moment; the
+ball passed from quarter to tackle, and Gillam and the leader of the
+tandem came together.
+
+The shock of that collision was plainly heard on the side-lines. For an
+instant the tandem stopped short. Then superior weight told, and it
+moved forward again, reenforced by quarter and right end; but
+simultaneously the Erskine quarter and left half made themselves felt
+back of Mason and Gillam, and then chaos reigned. The entire forces of
+each side were in the play, and for nearly half a minute the swaying
+mass moved inch by inch, first forward, then backward, the Robinson left
+tackle refusing to believe that their famous play was for once a failure
+and so clinging desperately to the ball, the center of a veritable
+maelstrom of panting, struggling players. Then the whistle sounded and
+the dust of battle cleared away. Robinson had gained half a yard.
+
+The north stand cheered delightedly. It had only seen the Robinson
+tandem stopped in its tracks, and did not know that in the struggle just
+passed Erskine had used a new and novel defense for the first time on
+any football field, had vindicated her coaches' faith in it, and brought
+surprise and dismay to the brown-clad warriors and their adherents. If
+it had known as much as Mills and Jones and Sydney about the "antidote"
+it would have shouted itself hoarse.
+
+Gillam trotted back to his place. His extra-padded head-harness and
+heavy shoulder-pads had brought him forth unscathed. On the side-line
+the Erskine coaches talked softly to each other, trying hard to look
+unconcerned, but nevertheless showing their pleasure. Sydney Burr,
+rather pale, was among them, and was, perhaps, the happiest of all. The
+bench whereon the substitutes sat was one long grin from end to end. But
+Robinson was far from being beaten, and the game went on.
+
+Again the tandem was hurled at the same point, and again Gillam met the
+shock of it. This time the defense worked better, and Robinson lost the
+half-yard of gain and another half-yard on top of that.
+
+"Six yards to gain," said the score-board. And the purple-decked stand
+voiced its triumph.
+
+Robinson wisely decided to yield possession of the ball and get away
+from such a dangerous locality. On the next play she punted and Paul was
+brought to earth on Robinson's fifty yards. Now was the time for Erskine
+to test her offensive powers. On the first play, using the
+close-formation, Gillam slashed a hole between the opposing center and
+right-guard and Mason went through for two yards. The next play netted
+them another yard in the same place. Then Paul was given the pigskin for
+a try outside of right tackle and reeled off four yards more before he
+was downed. It was quick starting and fast running, and for the moment
+Robinson was taken off her feet; but the next try ended dismally, for in
+an attempt to get through the left of the line between guard and tackle
+Mason was caught and thrown back for a two-yard loss. Another try
+outside of tackle on that side of the line netted but a bare three feet,
+and Foster dropped back for a kick. His effort was not very successful,
+and the ball was Robinson's on her twenty-seven yards.
+
+Now she tried the tackle-tandem on the other side of center, hurling
+right tackle, followed by left half with the ball, and full-back at the
+guard-tackle hole. Paul led the defense this time, and again Robinson
+was brought up all standing. Another try at the same point with like
+results, and Robinson changed her tactics. With the tandem formation,
+the ball went to full-back, and with left end and tackle interfering he
+skirted Erskine's right for seven yards and brought the wearers of the
+brown to their feet shouting wildly. Perhaps no one was more surprised
+than Bob Devoe, for it was his end that had been circled. Certainly no
+one was more thoroughly disgusted than he. The Robinson left end had put
+him out of the play as neatly as though he had been the veriest tyro.
+Devoe sized up that youth, set his lips together, and kept his
+eyes open.
+
+Robinson now had the ball near her thirty-five yards and returned to the
+tackle-tandem. In two plays she gained two yards, the result of faster
+playing. Then another try outside of right tackle brought her five
+yards. Tackle-tandem again, one yard; again, two yards; a try outside of
+tackle, one yard; Erskine's ball on Robinson's forty-three yards. The
+pigskin went to Gillam, who got safely away outside Robinson's right end
+and reeled off ten yards before he was caught. Again he was given the
+ball for a plunge through right tackle and barely gained a yard. Mason
+found another yard between left-guard and tackle and Foster kicked. It
+was poorly done, and the leather went into touch at the twenty-five
+yards, and once more Robinson set her feet toward the Erskine goal.
+
+So far the playing had all been done in her territory and her coaches
+were looking anxious. Erskine's defense was totally unlooked for, both
+as regarded style and effectiveness, and the problem that confronted
+them was serious. Their team had been perfected in the tackle-tandem
+play to the neglecting of almost all else. Their backs were heavy and
+consequently slow when compared with their opponents. To be sure, thus
+far runs outside of tackle and end had been successful, but the coaches
+well knew that as soon as Erskine found that such plays were to be
+expected she would promptly spoil them. Kicking was not a strong point
+with Robinson this year; at that game her enemy could undoubtedly beat
+her. Therefore, if the tackle-back play didn't work what was to be done?
+There was only one answer: Make it! There was no time or opportunity now
+to teach new tricks; Robinson must stand or fall by tackle-tandem. And
+while the coaches were arriving at this conclusion, White, their captain
+and quarter-back, had already reached it.
+
+He placed the head of the tandem nearer the line, put the tackle at the
+head of it, and hammered away again. Mills, seeing the move, silently
+applauded. It was the one way to strengthen the tandem play, for by
+starting nearer the line the tandem could possibly reach it before the
+charging opponents got into the play. Momentum was sacrificed and an
+instant of time gained, and, as it proved, that instant of time meant a
+difference of fully a yard on each play. Had the two Erskine warriors
+whose duty it was to hurl themselves against the tandem been of heavier
+weight it is doubtful if the change made would have greatly benefited
+their opponents; but, as it was, the two forces met about on Robinson's
+line, and after the first recoil the Brown was able to gain, sometimes a
+bare eighteen inches, sometimes a yard, once or twice three or four.
+
+And now Robinson took up her march steadily toward the Purple's goal.
+The backs plowed through for short distances; Gillam and Paul bore the
+brunt of the terrific assaults heroically; the Erskine line fell back
+foot by foot, yard by yard; and presently Robinson crossed the
+fifty-five-yard line and emerged into Erskine territory. Here there was
+a momentary pause in her conquering invasion. A fumble by the full-back
+allowed Devoe to get through and fall on the ball.
+
+Erskine now knifed the Brown's line here and there and shot Gillam and
+Paul through for short gains and made her distance. Then, with the
+pigskin back in Robinson territory, Erskine was caught holding and
+Robinson once more took up her advance. Carey at right tackle weakened
+and the Brown piled her backs through him. On Erskine's thirty-two yards
+he gave place to Jewell and the tandem moved its attack to the other
+side of the line. Paul and Gillam, both pretty well punished, still held
+out stubbornly. Yard by yard the remaining distance was covered. On her
+fifteen yards, almost under the shadow of her goal-posts, Erskine was
+given ten yards for off-side play, and the waning hopes of the
+breathless watchers on the north stand revived.
+
+But from the twenty-five-yard line the steady rushes went on again, back
+over the lost ground, and soon, with the half almost gone, Robinson
+placed the ball on Erskine's five yards. Twice the tandem was met
+desperately and hurled back, but on the third down, with her whole
+back-field behind the ball, Robinson literally mowed her way through,
+sweeping Paul and Mason, and Gillam and Foster before her, and threw
+Bond over between the posts with the ball close snuggled beneath him.
+
+The south stand leaped to its feet, blue flags and streamers fluttered
+and waved, and cheers for Robinson rent the air until long after the
+Brown's left half had kicked a goal. Then the two teams faced each other
+again and the Robinson left end got the kick-off and ran it back fifteen
+yards. Again the battering of the tackle-tandem began, and Paul and
+Gillam, nearly spent, were unable to withstand it after the first half
+dozen plays. Mason went into the van of the defense in place of Gillam,
+but the Brown's advance continued; one yard, two yards, three yards were
+left behind.
+
+Mills, watching, glanced almost impatiently at the timekeeper, who, with
+his watch in hand, followed the battle along the side-line. The time was
+almost up, but Robinson was back on Erskine's thirty-five yards. But now
+the timekeeper walked on to the gridiron, his eyes fixed intently on the
+dial, and ere the ball went again into play he had called time. The
+lines broke up and the two teams trotted away.
+
+The score-board proclaimed:
+
+Erskine 0, Opponents 6.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+BETWEEN THE HALVES
+
+Neil trotted along at the tail-end of the procession of substitutes, so
+deep in thought that he passed through the gate without knowing it, and
+only came to himself when he stumbled up the locker-house steps. He
+barked his shins and reached a conclusion at the same instant.
+
+At the door of the dressing-room a strong odor of witch-hazel and
+liniment met him. He squeezed his way past a group of coaches and looked
+about him. Confusion reigned supreme. Rubbers and trainer were hard at
+work. Simson's voice, commanding, threatening, was raised above all
+others, a shrill, imperious note in a rising and falling babel of sound.
+Veterans of the first half and substitutes chaffed each other
+mercilessly. Browning, with an upper lip for all the world like a piece
+of raw beef, mumbled good-natured retorts to the charges brought against
+him by Reardon, the substitute quarter-back.
+
+[Illustration: Erskine vs. Robinson--The First Half.]
+
+"Yes, you really ought to be careful," the latter was saying with
+apparent concern. "If you let those chaps throw you around like that
+you may get bruised or broken. I'll speak to Price and ask him to be
+more easy with you."
+
+"Mmbuble blubble mummum," observed Browning.
+
+"Oh, don't say that," Reardon entreated.
+
+Neil was looking for Paul, and presently he discovered him. He was lying
+on his back while a rubber was pommeling his neck and shoulders
+violently and apparently trying to drown him in witch-hazel. He caught
+sight of Neil and winked one highly discolored eye. Neil examined him
+gravely; Paul grinned.
+
+"There's a square inch just under your left ear, Paul, that doesn't
+appear to have been hit. How does that happen?"
+
+Paul grinned more generously, although the effort evidently pained him.
+
+"It's very careless of them, I must say," Neil went on sternly. "See
+that it is attended to in the next half."
+
+"Don't worry," answered Paul, "it will be." Neil smiled.
+
+"How are you feeling?" he asked.
+
+"Fine," Paul replied. "I'm just getting limbered up."
+
+"You look it," said Neil dryly. "I suppose by the time your silly neck
+is broken you'll be in pretty good shape to play ball, eh?" Simson
+hurried up, closely followed by Mills.
+
+"How's the neck?" he asked.
+
+"It's all right now," answered Paul. "It felt as though it had been
+driven into my body for about a yard."
+
+"Do you think you can start the next half?" asked Mills anxiously.
+
+"Sure; I can play it through; I'm all right now," replied Paul gaily.
+Mills's face cleared.
+
+"Good boy!" he muttered, and turned away. Neil sped after him.
+
+"Mr. Mills," he called. The head coach turned, annoyed by the
+interruption.
+
+"Well, Fletcher; what is it?"
+
+"Can't I get in for a while, sir?" asked Neil earnestly. "I'm feeling
+fine. Gillam can't last the game, nor Paul. I wish you'd let--"
+
+"See Devoe about it," answered Mills shortly. He hurried away, leaving
+Neil with open mouth and reddening cheeks.
+
+"Well, that's what I get for disappointing folks," he told himself.
+"Only he needn't have been _quite_ so short. What's the good of asking
+Devoe? He won't let me on. And--but I'll try, just the same. Paul's had
+his chance and there's no harm now in looking after Neil Fletcher."
+
+He found Devoe with Foster and one of the coaches. The latter was
+lecturing them forcibly in lowered tones, and Neil hesitated to
+interrupt; but while he stood by undecided Devoe glanced up, his face a
+pucker of anxiety. Neil strode forward.
+
+"Say, Bob, get me on this half, can't you? Mills told me to see you," he
+begged. "Give me a chance, Bob!"
+
+Devoe frowned impatiently and shook his head.
+
+"Can't be done, Neil. Mills has no business sending you to me. He's
+looking after the fellows himself. I've got troubles enough of my own."
+
+"But if I tell him you're willing?" asked Neil eagerly.
+
+"I'm not willing," said Devoe. "If he wants you he'll put you on. Don't
+bother me, Neil, for heaven's sake. Talk to Mills."
+
+Neil turned away in disappointment. It was no use. He knew he could play
+the game of his life if only they'd take him on. But they didn't know;
+they only knew that he had been tried and found wanting. There was no
+time now to test doubtful men. Mills and Devoe and Simson were not to be
+blamed; Neil recognized that fact, but it didn't make him happy. He
+found a seat on a bench near the door and dismally looked on. Suddenly a
+conversation near at hand engaged his attention.
+
+Mills, Jones, Sydney Burr, and two other assistant coaches were gathered
+together, and Mills was talking.
+
+"The 'antidote's' all right," he was saying decidedly. "If we had a
+team that equaled theirs in weight we could stop them short; but they're
+ten pounds heavier in the line and seven pounds heavier behind it. What
+can you expect? Without the 'antidote' they'd have had us snowed under
+now; they'd have scored five or six times on us."
+
+"Easy," said Jones. "The 'antidote's' all right, Burr. What we need are
+men to make it go. That's why I say take Gillam out. He's played a star
+game, but he's done up now. Let Pearse take his place, play Gale as long
+as he'll last, and then put in Smith. How about Fletcher?"
+
+"No good," answered Mills. "At least--" He stopped and narrowed his
+eyes, as was his way when thinking hard.
+
+"I think he'd be all right, Mr. Mills," said Sydney. "I--I know him
+pretty well, and I know he's the sort of fellow that will fight hardest
+when the game's going wrong."
+
+"I thought so, too," answered Mills; "but--well, we'll see. Maybe we'll
+give him a try. Time's up now.--O Devoe!"
+
+"Yes, coming!"
+
+"Here's your list. Better get your men out."
+
+There was a hurried donning of clothing, a renewed uproar.
+
+"All ready, fellows," shouted the captain. "Answer to your names:
+Kendall, Tucker, Browning, Stowell, Witter, Jewell, Devoe, Gale, Pearse,
+Mason, Foster."
+
+"There's not much use in talk," said Mills, as the babel partly died
+away. "I've got no fault to find with the work of any of you in the last
+half; but we've got to do better in this half; you can see that for
+yourselves. You were a little bit weak on team-play; see if you can't
+get together. We're going to tie the score; maybe we're going to beat.
+Anyhow, let's work like thunder, fellows, and, if we can't do any more,
+tear that confounded tackle-tandem up and send it home in pieces. We've
+got thirty-five minutes left in which to show that we're as good if not
+better than Robinson. Any fellow that thinks he's not as good as the man
+he's going to line up against had better stay out. I know that every one
+of you is willing, but some of you appeared in the last half to be
+laboring under the impression that you were up against better men. Get
+rid of that idea. Those Robinson fellows are just the same as you--two
+legs, two arms, two eyes, a nose, and a mouth. Go at it right and you
+can put them out of the play. Remember before you give up that the other
+man's just as tuckered as you are, maybe more so. Your captain says we
+can win out. I think he knows more about it than we fellows on the
+side-line do. Now go ahead, get together, put all you've got into it,
+and see whether your captain knows what he's talking about. Let's have
+a cheer for Erskine!"
+
+Neil stood up on the bench and got into that cheer in great shape. He
+was feeling better. Mills had half promised to put him in, and while
+that might mean much or nothing it was ground for hope. He trotted on to
+the field and over to the benches almost happily.
+
+The spectators were settling back in their seats, and the cheering had
+begun once more. The north stand had regained its spirit. After all, the
+game wasn't lost until the last whistle blew, and there was no telling
+what might happen before that. So the student section cheered and sang,
+the band heroically strove to make itself heard, and the purple flags
+tossed and fluttered. The sun was almost behind the west corner of the
+stand, and overcoat collars and fur neck-pieces were being snuggled into
+place. From the west tiers of seats came the steady tramp-tramp of
+chilled feet, hinting their owners' impatience.
+
+The players took their places, silence fell, and the referee's whistle
+blew. Robinson kicked off, and the last half of the battle began.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+NEIL GOES IN
+
+But what a dismal beginning it was!
+
+Pearse, who had taken Gillam's place at right half-back, misjudged the
+long, low kick, just managed to tip the ball with one outstretched hand
+as it went over his head, and so had to turn and chase it back to the
+goal-line. But Mason had seen the danger and was before him. Seizing the
+bouncing pigskin, he was able to reach the ten-yard line ere the
+Robinson right end bore him to earth. A moment later the ball went to
+the other side as a penalty for holding, and it was Robinson's first
+down on Erskine's twelve yards. Neil, watching intently from the bench,
+groaned loudly. Stone, beside him, kicked angrily into the turf.
+
+"That settles it," he muttered glumly. "Idiots!"
+
+Pearse it was who met that first fierce onslaught of the Brown's tandem,
+and he was new to the play; but Mason was behind him, and he was sent
+crashing into the leader like a ball from the mouth of a cannon. The
+tandem stopped; a sudden bedlam of voices from the stands broke forth;
+there were cries of "Ball! Ball!" and Witter flung himself through,
+rolled over a few times, and on the twenty-yard line, with half the
+Erskine team striving to pull him on and all the Robinson team trying to
+pull him back, groaned a faint "Down!" Robinson's tackle had fumbled the
+pass, and for the moment Erskine's goal was out of danger.
+
+"Line up!" shouted Ted Foster. "Signal!"
+
+The men scurried to their places.
+
+"_49--35--23!_"
+
+Back went the ball and Pearse was circling out toward his own left end,
+Paul interfering. The north stand leaped to its feet, for it looked for
+a moment as though the runner was safely away. But Seider, the Brown's
+right half, got him about the knees, and though Pearse struggled and was
+dragged fully five yards farther, finally brought him down. Fifteen
+yards was netted, and the Erskine supporters found cause for
+loud acclaim.
+
+"Bully tackle, that," said Neil. Stone nodded.
+
+"Seems to me we can get around those ends," he muttered; "especially the
+left. I don't think Bloch is much of a wonder. There goes Pearse."
+
+The ends were again worked by the two half-backs and the distance thrice
+won. The purple banners waved ecstatically and the cheers for Erskine
+thundered out. Neil was slapping Stone wildly on the knee.
+
+"Hold on," protested the left end, "try the other. That one's a bit
+lame."
+
+"Isn't Pearse a peach?" said Neil. "Oh, but I wish I was out there!"
+
+"You may get a whack at it yet," answered Stone. "There goes a jab at
+the line."
+
+"I may," sighed Neil. He paused and watched Mason get a yard through the
+Brown's left tackle. "Only, if I don't, I suppose I won't get my E."
+
+"Oh, yes, you will. The Artmouth game counts, you know."
+
+"I wasn't in it."
+
+"That's so, you weren't; I'd forgotten. But I think you'll get it, just
+the--Good work, Gale!" Paul had made four yards outside of tackle, and
+it was again Erskine's first down on the fifty-five-yard line. The
+cheers from the north stand were continuous; Neil and Stone were obliged
+to put their heads together to hear what each other said.
+
+For five minutes longer Erskine's wonderful good fortune continued, and
+the ball was at length on Robinson's twenty-eight yards near the north
+side-line. Foster was waving his hand entreatingly toward the seats,
+begging for a chance to make his signals heard. From across the field,
+in the sudden comparative stillness of the north stand, thundered the
+confident slogan of Robinson. The brown-stockinged captain and
+quarter-back was shouting incessantly:
+
+"Steady now, fellows! Break through! Break through! Smash 'em up!" He
+ran from one end to the other, thumping each encouragingly on the back,
+whispering threats and entreaties into their ears. "Now, then, Robinson,
+let's stop 'em right here!"
+
+Foster, red-faced and hoarse, leaned forward, patted Stowell on the
+thigh, caught the ball, passed it quickly to Mason as that youth plunged
+for the line, and then threw himself into the breach, pushing, heaving,
+fighting for every inch that gave under his torn and scuffled shoes.
+
+"Second down; four to gain!"
+
+Robinson was awake now to her danger. Foster saw the futility of further
+attempts at the line for the present and called for a run around left
+end. The ball went to Pearse, but Bloch for once was ready for him, and,
+getting by Kendall, nailed the runner prettily four yards back of the
+line to the triumphant paeans of the south stand.
+
+When the teams had again lined up Foster dropped back as though to try a
+kick for goal, a somewhat difficult feat considering the angle. The
+Robinson captain was alarmed; he was ready to believe that a team who
+had already sprung one surprise on him was capable of securing goals
+from any angle whatever; his voice arose in hoarse entreaty:
+
+"Get through and block this kick, fellows! Get through! Get through!"
+
+"_Signal_!" cried Foster. "_44--18--23!_"
+
+The ball flew back from Stowell and Foster caught it breast-high. The
+Erskine line held for a moment, then the blue-clad warriors came
+plunging through desperately, and had Foster attempted a kick the ball
+would never have gone ten feet; but Foster, who knew his limitations in
+the kicking line as well as any one else, had entertained no such idea.
+The pigskin, fast clutched to Paul's breast, was already circling the
+Brown's left end. Devoe had put his opponent out of the play, thereby
+revenging himself for like treatment in the first half, and Pearse, a
+veritable whirlwind, had bowled over the Robinson left half. There is,
+perhaps, no prettier play than a fake kick, when it succeeds, and the
+friends of Erskine recognized the fact and showed their appreciation in
+a way that threatened to shake the stand from its foundations.
+
+Paul and Pearse were circling well out in the middle of the field toward
+the Robinson goal, now some thirty yards distant measured by white
+lines, but far more than that by the course they were taking. Behind
+them streamed a handful of desperate runners; before them, rapidly
+getting between them and the goal, sped White, the Robinson captain and
+quarter. To the spectators a touch-down looked certain, for it was one
+man against two; the pursuit was not dangerous. But to Paul it seemed at
+each plunge a more forlorn attempt. So far he had borne more than his
+share of the punishment sustained by the tackle-tandem defense; he had
+worked hard on offense since the present half began, and now, wearied
+and aching in every bone and muscle, he found himself scarce able to
+keep pace with his interference.
+
+He would have yielded the ball to Pearse had he been able to tell the
+other to take it; but his breath was too far gone for speech. So he
+plunged onward, each step slower than that before, his eyes fixed on the
+farthest white streak. From three sides of the great field poured forth
+the resonance of twelve thousand voices, triumphant, despairing,
+appealing, inciting, the very acme of sound.
+
+Yet Paul vows that he heard nothing save the beat of Pearse's footsteps
+and the awful pounding of his own heart.
+
+On the fifteen-yard line, just to the left of the goal, the critical
+moment came. White, with clutching, outstretched hands, strove to evade
+Pearse's shoulder, and did so. But the effort cost him what he gained,
+for, dodging Pearse and striving to make a sudden turn toward Paul, his
+foot slipped and he measured his length on the turf; and ere he had
+regained his feet the pursuit passed over him. Pearse met the first
+runner squarely and both went down. At the same instant Paul threw up
+one hand blindly and fell across the last line.
+
+On the north stand hats and flags sailed through the air. The south
+stand was silent.
+
+Paul lay unmoving where he had fallen. Simson was at his side in a
+moment. Neil, his heart thumping with joy, watched anxiously from the
+bench. Presently the group dissolved and Paul emerged between Simson and
+Browning, white of face and stumbling weakly on his legs, but grinning
+like a jovial satyr. Mills turned to the bench and Neil's heart jumped
+into his throat; but it was Smith and not he who struggled feverishly
+out of his sweater, donned a head-harness, and sped on to the field.
+Neil sighed and sank back.
+
+"Next time," said Stone sympathetically. But Neil shook his head.
+
+"I guess there isn't going to be any 'next time,'" he said dolefully.
+"Time's nearly up."
+
+"Not a bit of it; the last ten minutes is longer than all the rest of
+the game," answered Stone. "I wonder who'll try the goal."
+
+"We've got to have it," said Neil. "Surely Devoe can kick an easy one
+like that! Why, it's dead in the center!" Stone shook his head.
+
+"I know, but Bob's got a bad way of getting nervous times like this. He
+knows that if he misses we've lost the game, unless we can manage to
+score again, which isn't likely; and it's dollars to doughnuts he
+doesn't come anywhere near it!"
+
+Paul staggered up to the bench, Simson carefully wrapping a blanket
+about him, and the fellows made room for him a little way from where
+Neil sat. He stretched his long legs out gingerly because of the aches,
+sighed contentedly, and looked about him. His eyes fell on Neil.
+
+"Hello, chum!" he said weakly. "Haven't you gone in yet?"
+
+"Not yet," answered Neil cheerfully. "How are you feeling?"
+
+"Oh, I'm--ouch!--I'm all right; a bit sore here and there."
+
+"Devoe's going to kick," said Stone uneasily.
+
+The ball had been brought out, and now Foster was holding it directly in
+front of the center of the cross-bar. The south stand was cheering and
+singing wildly in a desperate attempt to rattle the Erskine captain. The
+latter looked around once, and the Robinson supporters, taking that as a
+sign of nervousness, redoubled their noise.
+
+"Muckers!" groaned Neil. Stone grinned.
+
+"Everything goes with them," he said.
+
+The referee's hand went down, Devoe stepped forward, the blue-clad line
+leaped into the field, and the ball sped upward. As it fell Neil turned
+to Stone and the two stared at each other in doubt. From both stands
+arose a confused roar. Then their eyes sought the score-board at the
+west end of the field and they groaned in unison.
+
+"NO GOAL."
+
+"What beastly luck!" muttered Stone.
+
+Neil was silent. Mills and Jones were standing near by and looking
+toward the bench and Neil imagined they were discussing him. He watched
+breathlessly, then his heart gave a suffocating leap and he was racing
+toward the two coaches.
+
+"Warm up, Fletcher."
+
+That was all, but it was all Neil asked for. In a twinkling he was
+trotting along the line, stretching his cramped legs and arms. As he
+passed the bench he tried to look unconcerned, but the row of kindly,
+grinning faces told him that his delight was common property. Paul
+silently applauded.
+
+Meanwhile the teams had again faced each other. Twelve minutes of play
+remained and the score-board said: Erskine 5, Opponents 6. Both elevens
+had made changes. For Erskine, Graham, immense of bulk but slow, had
+replaced Stowell at center, and Reardon was in Foster's position.
+Robinson had put in new men at left tackle, right end, and full-back.
+The game went on again.
+
+Devoe got the kick-off and brought the ball back to his thirty yards;
+but he was injured when thrown and Bell took his place. Smith and Mason
+each made two yards around the ends and Pearse got through left-guard
+for one. Then a plunge at right tackle resulted disastrously, Mason
+being forced back three yards, and Smith took the pigskin for a try
+outside of right tackle. He was stopped easily and Mason kicked.
+Robinson got the ball on her fifty yards and ran it back to Erskine's
+forty-three. Once more the tackle-tandem was brought into play. Smith
+failed to stop it, and the head of the defense was given to Pearse; but
+Robinson's new left tackle was a good man, and yard by yard Erskine was
+borne back toward her goal. The south stand blossomed anew with brown
+silk and bunting.
+
+On her thirty yards Erskine was penalized for off-side and the ball was
+almost under her goal. The first fierce plunge of the tandem broke the
+Purple line in twain and the backs went through for three yards. Mason
+was hurt and the whistle shrilled. A cheer arose from the north stand
+and a youth running into the field from the side-line heard it with
+fast-beating heart.
+
+"_Erskine! Erskine! Erskine! Rah-rah-rah, rah-rah-rah, rah-rah-rah!
+Fletcher! Fletcher! Fletcher!_"
+
+Mason was taken off, protesting feebly, and on the next plunge of the
+tackle-tandem Neil, with Pearse behind him, brought hope back to Erskine
+hearts, for the "antidote" worked to perfection again. All the pent-up
+strength and enthusiasm of Neil's body and heart were turned loose, and
+he played, as he had known he could if given the opportunity, as he had
+never played before, either at Erskine or Hillton. The spirit of battle
+held him; he was perfectly happy, and every knock and bruise brought him
+joy rather than pain. His chance had come to prove to both the coaches
+and the fellows that their first estimate of him was the correct one.
+
+Robinson made her distance and gained the twenty-yard line by a trick
+play outside of left tackle; but that was all she did on that occasion,
+for in the next three downs she failed to advance the ball a single
+inch, and it went to Erskine. Neil dropped back and the pigskin settled
+into his ready hands. When it next touched earth it was in Robinson's
+possession on her own fifty yards. That punt brought a burst of applause
+from the north seats. Robinson tried tackle-tandem again and Neil and
+Pearse stopped it short. Again, and again there was no advance; but when
+Neil picked himself out of the pile-up he made the discovery that
+something was radically wrong with his right arm and shoulder. He sat
+down on the trampled turf to think it over and closed his eyes. He heard
+the whistle and Reardon's voice above him:
+
+"Hurt?"
+
+Neil looked up and shook his head. His gaze fell on Simson headed toward
+him followed by the water-carrier. He staggered to his feet, Reardon's
+arm about him.
+
+"Keep 'Baldy' away," he muttered. "I'm all right; but don't let him get
+to me."
+
+Reardon looked at his white face for a second in doubt. Simson was
+almost up to them. He wanted to win, did Reardon, and--
+
+"All right here," he cried.
+
+Neil went to his place, Simson retreated, suspicion written all over his
+face, and the whistle sounded.
+
+Neil met the next attack with his left shoulder fore-most. And it was
+Erskine's ball on Robinson's fifty-yards.
+
+On the first try around the Brown's left end Smith took the leather
+twenty yards, catching Bloch napping. The north stand was on its feet in
+an instant. Cheer after cheer broke forth encouraging the Purple
+warriors to fight their way across those six remaining white lines and
+wrest victory from defeat. But there was no time to struggle over the
+thirty yards that intervened. A long run might bring a touch-down if
+Erskine could again get a back around an end, but two minutes was too
+short a time for line-bucking; and, besides, Reardon had his orders.
+
+On the side-line the timekeeper was keeping a careful eye upon his
+stop-watch.
+
+A try by Neil outside of right tackle netted but a yard and left him
+half fainting on the ground. Pearse set off for the left end of the line
+on the next play, but never reached it; the Robinson right tackle got
+through on to him and stopped him well back of his line.
+
+"Third down," called the referee, "five to gain!"
+
+The teams were lined up about half-way between the Robinson goal and the
+south side of the field, the ball just inside the thirty-yard line.
+Reardon had been directed to try for a field-goal as soon as he got
+inside the twenty-five yards. This was only the thirty yards, and the
+angle was severe. There was perhaps one chance in three of making a goal
+from placement; a drop-kick was out of the question. Moreover, to make
+matters more desperate, Neil was injured; just how badly Reardon didn't
+know, but the other's white, drawn face told its own story. If the
+attempt failed he would be held to blame by the coaches, if it succeeded
+he would be praised for good generalship; it was a way coaches had. His
+consideration of the problem lasted but a fraction of a minute. He
+glanced at Neil and their eyes met. The quarter-back's mind was made up
+on the instant.
+
+"_Signal_!" he cried. "_Steady, fellows; we want this; every one hold
+hard_!"
+
+He trotted back to the thirty-five-yard line and dropped to his knees,
+directly behind and almost facing center. Neil took up his position
+three yards from him and facing the goal. Pearse and Smith stood guard
+between him and the line. The Robinson right half turned and sped back
+to join the quarter, whose commands to "Get through and stop this kick!"
+were being shouted lustily from his position near the goal-line.
+
+"Signal!" Reardon repeated. Graham stooped over the ball. Neil, pale but
+with a little smile about his mouth, measured his distance. Victory
+depended upon him. From where Reardon knelt to the goal was nearly forty
+yards on a straight line and the angle was severe. If he made it, well
+and good; if he missed--He recalled what Mills had told him ere he
+sent him in:
+
+"I think you can win this for us, Fletcher. Once inside their
+twenty-five Reardon will give you the ball for a kick from drop or
+placement, as you think best. Whatever happens, don't let your nerves
+get the best of you. If you miss, why, you've missed, that's all. Don't
+think the world's coming to an end because we've been beaten. A hundred
+years from now, when you and I aren't even memories, Erskine will still
+be turning out football teams. But if we can, we want to win. Just keep
+cool and do your level best, that's all we ask. Now get in there."
+
+Neil took a deep breath. He'd do his best. If the line held, the ball
+ought to go over. He was cool enough now, and although his shoulder
+seemed on fire, the smile about his mouth deepened and grew confident.
+Reardon stretched forth his hands.
+
+"_Signal!_" he cried for the third time; but no signal was forthcoming.
+Instead Graham sped the ball back to him, steady and true, and the
+Robinson line, almost caught napping, failed to charge until the oval
+had settled into Reardon's hands and had been placed upon the ground
+well cocked at the goal. Then the Brown's warriors broke through and
+bore down, big and ugly, upon Pearse and Smith; but Neil was stepping
+toward the ball; a long stride, a short one, a long one, and toe and
+pigskin came together. Pearse was down and Smith was shouldering
+valiantly at a big guard. Two blue-clad arms swept upward almost into
+the path of the rising ball; there was a confused sound of crashing
+bodies and rasping canvas, and then a Robinson man bounded against Neil
+and sent him reeling to earth.
+
+For an instant the desire to lie still and close his eyes was strong.
+But there was the ball! He rolled half over, and raising himself on his
+left hand looked eagerly toward the posts. The pigskin, turning lazily
+over and over, was still in flight. Straight for the goal it was
+speeding, but now it had begun to drop. Neil's heart stood still. Would
+it clear the cross-bar? It seemed scarcely possible, but even as despair
+seized him, for an instant the bar came between his straining eyes and
+the dropping ball!
+
+A figure with tattered purple sleeves near at hand leaped into the air,
+waving his arms wildly. On the stand across the field pandemonium
+broke loose.
+
+Neil closed his eyes.
+
+A moment later Simson found him there, sitting on the thirty-five-yard
+line, one arm hanging limply over his knee, his eyes closed, and his
+white face wreathed in smiles.
+
+Erskine 10, Opponents 6, said the score-board.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+AFTER THE BATTLE
+
+"You'll not get off so easily this time," said the doctor.
+
+"No, sir," replied Neil, striving to look concerned.
+
+He was back on the couch again, just where he had been four weeks
+previous, with his shoulder swathed about in bandages just as it had
+been then.
+
+"I can't see what you were thinking about," went on the other irritably,
+"to go on playing after you'd bust things up again."
+
+"No, sir--that is, I'm sure I don't know." Neil's tone was very meek,
+but the doctor nevertheless looked at him suspiciously.
+
+"Humph! Much you care, I guess. But, just the same, my fine fellow,
+it'll be Christmas before you have the use of that arm again. That'll
+give you time to see what an idiot you were."
+
+"Thank you, sir."
+
+The doctor smiled in spite of himself and looked away.
+
+[Illustration: Erskine vs. Robinson--The Second Half.]
+
+"Doesn't seem to have interfered with your appetite, anyhow," he said,
+glancing at the well-nigh empty tray on the chair.
+
+"No, sir; I--I tried not to eat much, but I was terribly hungry, Doc."
+
+"Oh, I guess you'll do." He picked up his hat; then he faced the couch
+again and its occupant. "The trouble with you chaps," he said severely,
+"is that as long as you've managed to get a silly old leather wind-bag
+over a fool streak of lime you think it doesn't matter how much you've
+broke yourselves to pieces."
+
+"Yes, it's very thoughtless of us," murmured Neil with deep
+contriteness.
+
+"Humph!" growled the doctor. "See you in the morning."
+
+When the door had closed Neil reached toward the tray and with much
+difficulty buttered a piece of Graham bread, almost the only edible
+thing left. Then he settled back against the pillows, not without
+several grimaces as the injured shoulder was moved, and contentedly ate
+it. He was very well satisfied. To be sure, a month of invalidism was
+not a pleasing prospect, but things might have been worse. And the end
+paid for all. Robinson had departed with trailing banners; the coaches
+and the whole college were happy; Paul was happy; Sydney was happy; he
+was happy himself. Certainly the bally shoulder--ouch!--hurt at times;
+but, then one can't have everything one wants. His meditations were
+interrupted by voices and footsteps outside the front door. He bolted
+the last morsel of bread and awaited the callers.
+
+These proved to be Paul and Sydney and--Neil stared--Tom Cowan.
+
+"Rah-rah-rah!" shouted Paul, slamming the door. "How are they coming,
+chum? Here's Burr and Cowan to make polite injuries after your
+inquiries--I mean inquiries--well, you know what I mean. Tom's been
+saying all sorts of nice things about your playing, and I think he'd
+like to shake hands with the foot that kicked that goal."
+
+Neil laughed and put out his hand. Cowan, grinning, took it.
+
+"It was fine, Fletcher," he said with genuine enthusiasm. "And, some
+way, I knew when I saw you drop back that you were going to put it over.
+I'd have bet a hundred dollars on it!"
+
+"Thunder, you were more confident than I was!" Neil laughed. "I wouldn't
+have bet more than thirty cents. Well, Board of Strategy, how did you
+like the game?"
+
+Sydney shook his head gravely.
+
+"I wouldn't care to go through it again," he answered. "I had all kinds
+of heart disease before the first half was over, and after that I was
+in a sort of daze; didn't know really whether it was football or
+Friday-night lectures."
+
+"You ought to have been at table to-night, chum," said Paul. "We made
+Rome howl. Mills made a speech, and so did Jones and 'Baldy,' and--oh,
+every one. It was fine!"
+
+"And they cheered a fellow named Fletcher for nearly five minutes,"
+added Sydney. "And--"
+
+"Hear 'em!" Cowan interrupted. From the direction of the yard came a
+long volley of cheers for Erskine. Dinner was over and the fellows were
+ready for the celebration; they were warming up.
+
+"Great times to-night," said Paul happily. "I wish you were going out to
+the field with us, Neil."
+
+"Maybe I will."
+
+"If you try it I'll strap you down," replied Paul indignantly. "By the
+way, Mills told me to announce his coming. He's terribly tickled, is
+Mills, although he doesn't say very much."
+
+"He's still wondering how you went stale before the game and then played
+the way you did," said Sydney. "However, I didn't say anything." He
+caught himself up and glanced doubtfully toward Cowan. "I don't know
+whether it's a secret?" He appealed to Neil, who was frowning across
+at him.
+
+"What's a secret?" demanded Paul.
+
+"Don't mind me," said Cowan. "It may be a secret, but I guessed it long
+ago, didn't I, Paul?"
+
+"What in thunder are you all talking about?" asked that youth, staring
+inquiringly from one to another. Sydney saw that he had touched on
+forbidden ground and now looked elaborately ignorant.
+
+"Oh, nothing, Paul," answered Neil. "When are you all going out to the
+field?"
+
+"But there is something," his chum protested warmly. "Now out with it.
+What is it, Cowan? What did you guess?"
+
+"Why, about Fletcher going stale so that you could get into the game,"
+answered Cowan, apparently ignorant of Neil's wrathful grimaces. "I
+guessed right away. Why--"
+
+"Oh, shut up, won't you?" Neil entreated. "Don't mind them, Paul;
+they're crazy. Sydney, you're an ass, if you only knew it."
+
+"But I thought he knew--" began Sydney.
+
+"No, I didn't know," said Paul, quietly, his eyes on Neil's averted
+face. "I--I must have been blind. It's plain enough now, of course. If I
+had known I wouldn't have taken the place."
+
+"You're all a set of idiots," muttered Neil.
+
+"I'm sorry I said anything," said Sydney, genuinely distressed.
+
+"I'm glad," said Paul. "I'm such a selfish brute that I can't see half
+an inch before my nose. Chum, all I've got to say--"
+
+"Shut up," cried Neil. "Listen, fellows, they're marching across the
+common. Some one help me to the window. I want to see."
+
+Paul strode to his side, and putting an arm under his shoulders lifted
+him to his feet. Sydney lowered the gas and the four crowded to the
+window. Across the common, a long dark column in the starlight, tramped
+all Erskine, and at the head marched the band.
+
+"Gee, what a crowd!" muttered Cowan.
+
+The head of the procession passed through the gate and turned toward the
+house, and the band struck up 'Neath the Elms of Old Erskine. Hundreds
+of voices joined in and the slow and stately song thundered up toward
+the star-sprinkled sky.
+
+Paul's arm was still around his room-mate; its clasp tightened a little.
+
+"Say, chum."
+
+"Well?" muttered Neil.
+
+"Thanks."
+
+"Oh, don't bother me," Neil grumbled. "Let's get out of this; they're
+stopping."
+
+Sydney had stolen, as noiselessly as one may on crutches, to the
+chandelier, and suddenly the gas flared up, sending a path of light
+across the street and revealing the three at the window. Neil,
+exclaiming and protesting, strove to draw back, but Paul held him fast.
+From the crowd outside came the deep and long-drawn _A-a-ay!_ and grew
+and spread up the line.
+
+And then the cheering began.
+
+
+
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