see
the way Walton played today? If he gets in tomorrow and plays like that
against Chambers Robey'll be handing him the place! What the dickens is
wrong with you, anyway?"

"I'm just tired," responded Don.

"Tired!" Tim was puzzled. "What for? You haven't worked since day before
yesterday. What you've got is malaria or something. Tell you what we'll
do, Don; we'll beat it over to the doctor's after supper, eh?"

But Don shook his head. "Danny's tonic is all I need," he said. "I dare
say I'll be feeling great in the morning."

"You dare say you will! Don't you feel sure you will? Because I've got
to tell you, Donald, that this is a plaguy bad time to get laid off,
son. If you're not a regular little Bright Eyes by Monday Robey'll can
you as sure as shooting!"

"I wouldn't much care if he did," muttered Don.

"You wouldn't much---- Say, are you crazy?" Tim stopped short on the
walk and viewed his chum in amazement. "Is it your brain that's gone
back on you? Don't you _want_ to play against Claflin?"

"I suppose so. Yes, of course I do, but----"

"Then don't talk like a piece of cheese! You'll come with me to the
doctor after supper if I have to drag you there by one heel!"

And so go he did, and the doctor looked at his tongue and felt his pulse
and "pawed him over," as Don put it, and ended by patting him on the
back and accepting a nice bright half-dollar--half-price to Academy
students--in exchange for a prescription.

"You're a little nervous," said the doctor. "Thinking too much about
that football game, I guess. Don't do it. Put it out of your mind. Take
that medicine every two hours according to directions on the bottle and
you'll be all right, my boy."

Don thanked him, slipped the prescription in a pocket and headed for
school. But Tim grabbed him and faced him about. "You don't swallow the
prescription, Donald," he said. "You take it to a druggist and he gives
you something in a bottle. That's what you swallow, the stuff in the
bottle. I'm not saying that it mightn't do you just as much good to eat
the paper, but we'd better play by the rules. So come on, you
lunk-head."

"Oh, I forgot," murmured Don.

"Of course you did," agreed the other sarcastically. "And, look here, if
anyone asks you your name, it's Donald Croft Gilbert. Think you can
remember that? Donald Croft----"

"Oh, dry up," said Don. "How much will this fool medicine cost me?"

"How much have you got?"

"About eighty cents, I