t. Don's doing a heap better than he did last year, though. I
guess he's every bit as good as Joe Gafferty. He's a regular whale on
defence, isn't he? He's a queer chap, Don, but a mighty nice one."

"Don," replied Roy in his somewhat didactic manner, "is the sort of
fellow I'd pick out to be cast away on a desert island with. He isn't so
scintillant, you know, but he'd wear forever."

"That's him to a T." Tom chuckled. "They tell me Harry Walton is as mad
as a hatter because Don butted in and grabbed that position away from
him. Can't say I altogether blame him, either. That is, there's no use
getting mad about it, but it is tough luck. Harry isn't a half-bad
guard, either."

"If he can play good football," answered Roy, "I'm glad to know it. I've
always wondered what Walton was for."

Tom laughed. "Oh, he isn't so bad, I guess. His manner's against him."

"I've noticed it," said Roy drily. "Also his looks and his remarks and a
number of other things. Larry Jones says he comes from the best sort of
family."

"A fellow's family doesn't prove anything, I guess."

"Evidently not. There's the whistle. Let's go back." Presently Roy
added, as they headed for Torrence: "I can quite understand why
Walton's family sent him to school."

"Why they sent him to school?" repeated Tom questioningly.

"Yes, it was to get rid of him."

"You've certainly got your little hammer with you," said Tom, with a
smile. "What's Harry done to you?"

"Not a thing. I wouldn't advise him to, either. I just don't like him,
Tom. Can't stand being in the same room with him. Well, see you later,
old chap. And, say, think over what I said about--you know."

"Oh, that's all right," replied Tom, with a shrug of his broad
shoulders. "Fellows can think what they like about me. I don't blame
them. But you can't expect me to like it!"

"I know, Tom, but they don't feel that way now. It was just for a day or
two. I've heard a lot of fellows say lately that it's nonsense blaming
you, Tom. So come out of your shell, like a sensible chap, and show that
you don't feel any--any ill-will."

"Well, I don't, I suppose. As for coming out of my shell, I'll be
crawling out pretty soon. Don't bother about me, Roy. I'm feeling fine.
So long."

Perhaps what Tom really meant was that he was feeling a whole lot better
than he had a few days before, for he certainly had not become quite
reconciled to the loss of his position with the team. He was getting
used