himself.

"I'm sorry, my boy--but we're up against it, and I can't take any
risks now of your getting hurt."

"It means the game," said Dink at last.

"I'm afraid so."

"We've no one to put in my place--no one but Beekstein Hall," said
Stover desperately. "Oh, please, sir, let me play; I'll be awfully
careful. It's only a House game."

"Humph--yes, I know these House games. I'm sorry, but there's no help
for it."

"But I'm only a scrub, sir," said Stover, pleading hard.

"We're going to play you at end," said Cockrell suddenly, seeing he
did not understand, "just as soon as we have to take Banks out; and
Heaven only knows when that'll be."

Dink was aghast.

"You're not going--you're not going----" he tried to speak, and
stopped.

"Yes, we've talked it over and that seems best."

"But--Turkey Reiter--I--I thought you'd move him out."

"No, we don't dare weaken the middle; it's bad enough now."

"Oh, but I'm so light."

The captain watched the terror-stricken look in his face and was
puzzled.

"What's the matter? You're not getting shaky?"

"Oh, no, sir," said Dink, "it's not that. It--it seems so awful that
you've got to put me in."

"You're better, my boy, than you think," said Cockrell, smiling a
little, "and you're going to be better than you know how. Now you
understand why you've got to keep on the side-lines this afternoon.
You're too fragile to take risks on."

"Yes, I understand."

"It comes hard, doesn't it?"

"Yes, sir, it does; very hard."

When the Kennedy and the Woodhull lined up for play an hour later
little Pebble Stone was at end in place of Stover, who watched from
his post as linesman the contest that was to have been his
opportunity. He heard nothing of the buzzing comments behind, of the
cheers or the shouted entreaties. Gaze fixed and heart in throat, he
followed the swaying tide of battle, imprisoned, powerless to rush in
and stem the disheartening advance.

The teams, now more evenly matched, both showed the traces of tense
nerves in the frequent fumbling that kept the ball changing sides and
prevented a score during the first half.

In the opening of the second half, by a lucky recovery of a blocked
kick, the Kennedy scored a touchdown, but failed to kick the goal,
making the score four to nothing. The Woodhull then began a determined
assault upon the Kennedy's weak end. Stover, powerless, beheld little
Pebble Stone, fighting like grim death, carried back and ba