s the
only way to do. If you keep skulking off by yourself they'll think
you're ashamed."

"So I am," muttered Don.

"You're not, either! You've done nothing to be ashamed of! Keep that in
mind, you silly It. Now come along and we'll go up and jolly Tom a bit."

Steve Edwards was not at home, but Amy Byrd was enthroned on the
window-seat when they entered in response to Tom's invitation, and Amy
had evidently been holding forth very seriously on some subject.

"Don't mind us," said Tim. "Go ahead, Amy, and get it off your chest."

"Hello," said Amy. "Hello, Don, old man. Haven't seen you for an age.
Make yourselves at home. Never mind Tom, he's only the host. How did you
like the practice today, Tim?"

"I didn't see it, but I heard enough about it. It must have been
fierce!"

"It was perfectly punk," growled Tom. "I should think Robey would want
to throw up his hands and quit!"

"Did you see it, Don?" asked Amy.

"No, I didn't go over. What was the trouble?"

"Well, I'm no expert," replied Amy, taking his knees into his arms and
rocking gently back and forth on the seat, "but I'd say in my ignorant
way that someone had unkindly put sleeping-potions in the milk at
training-table! The only fellow who seemed to have his eyes more than
half open was McPhee. Mac showed signs of life at long intervals. The
rest sort of stumbled around in their sleep. I think Peters actually
snored."

"Oh, we're going to get a fine old drubbing next Saturday," said Tom
pessimistically. "And what a fine exhibition for that chap Proctor! I'll
bet Robey could have kicked the whole team all the way back to the gym.
He looked as though it would have done him a world of good to have a try
at it!"

"Oh, well, these things happen," said Tim cheerfully. "It's only a
slump. We'll get over it."

"Slump be blowed!" said Tom. "This is a fine time to slump, five days
before the game!"

"I know that, too, but there's no use howling about it. What we need,
Tom, is to have you get back there at right guard, old man."

"That's what I've been saying," exclaimed Amy earnestly. "I want Tom to
go to Josh and ask him to let him play, but he won't. Says it wouldn't
be any good. You don't know whether it would or not, Tom, until you try
it. Look here, Josh doesn't want us to get beaten Saturday any more than
we want it ourselves, and if you sort of put it up to him like that----"

"I'd look well, wouldn't I?" laughed Tom. "Telling Josh that unless