he ground like a guilty
man, picking his way through the crowds of Fifth Formers, who watched
him pass with critical looks, and up the heavy stairs to Garry
Cockrell's room, where the team sat quietly listening to the final
instructions. He took his seat silently in an obscure corner, studying
the stern faces about him, hearing nothing of Mr. Ware's staccato
periods, his eyes irresistibly drawn to his captain, wondering how
suddenly older he looked and grave.

By his side Ned Banks was listening stolidly and Charlie DeSoto,
twisting a paper-weight in his nervous fingers, fidgeting on his chair
with the longing for the fray.

"That's all," said the low voice of Garry Cockrell. "You know what you
have to do. Go down to Charlie's room; I want a few words with
Stover."

They went sternly and quickly, Mr. Ware with them. Dink was alone,
standing stiff and straight, his heart thumping violently, waiting for
his captain to speak.

"How do you feel?"

"I'm ready, sir."

"I don't know when you'll get in the game--probably before the first
half is over," said Cockrell slowly. "We're going to put up to you a
pretty hard proposition, youngster." He came nearer, laying his hand
on Stover's shoulder. "I'm not going to talk nerve to you, young
bulldog, I don't need to. I've watched you and I know the stuff that's
in you."

"Thank you, sir."

"Not but what you'll need it--more than you've ever needed it before.
You've no right in this game."

"I know it, sir."

"Tough McCarty won't be able to help you out much. He's got the
toughest man in the line. Everything's coming at you, my boy, and
you've got to stand it off, somehow. Now, listen once more. It's a
game for the long head, for the cool head. You've got to think
quicker, you've got to out-think every man on the field and you can do
it. And remember this: No matter what happens never let up--get your
man back of the line if you can, get him twenty-five yards beyond you,
get him on the one-yard line,--but get him!"

"Yes, sir."

"And now one thing more. There's all sorts of ways you can play the
game. You can charge in like a bull and kill yourself off in ten
minutes, but that won't do. You can go in and make grandstand plays
and get carried off the field, but that won't do. My boy, you've got
to last out the game."

"I see, sir."

"Remember there's a bigger thing than yourself you're fighting for,
Stover--it's the school, the old school. Now, when you're on the