on. Tyler was the logical choice, and
Tyler went in, but the remaining aspirant, Crewe, was scarcely 'varsity
material, and in case of injury to Trow or Tyler the outlook would be
bad. Joe Detweiler pointed this fact out to Mr. Robey on the following
Monday, after watching Crewe's efforts.

"We can't count on Saunders coming back before the Cherry Valley game,
if he does then," said Mr. Detweiler. "Tyler's only fair and Trow is not
much better. As for Crewe, he won't make a good tackle before next year.
He doesn't sense it at all. We've got to find someone else, George. What
about the second? Haven't they got someone there we can grab and hammer
into a tackle? What about that fellow Thayer? Isn't that his name?"

"Thayer's promising," replied Mr. Robey. "Then there's Cupples. Cupples
has played longer. Thayer's new this Fall. Look them over, Joe, and
help yourself. Only 'Boots' will probably scalp you!"

"I've got a tough scalp," was the untroubled reply. "Anyway, we've got
to have at least one good tackle. Great Scott, George, you don't seem to
realise what we're up against. Why, Phillips went into Trow and Tyler
Saturday as if they were paper! They're old-style tackles, both of them.
No one's ever told them that the game has changed since the day when
tackles were just linemen! Here, I'm going over there and see what
'Boots' has got in his outfit."

There was no scrimmage with the 'varsity that afternoon, and Mr.
Boutelle was putting his second team through a hard practice when Joe
Detweiler appeared on the second's gridiron. "Boots" viewed his advent
with suspicion and joined him with a belligerent expression on his face.

"What are you doing over here, you spy?" he demanded. "Trying to get our
signals!"

"No, just looking," replied the other innocently.

"Looking at my tackles, maybe, eh! You tell George he can't have any of
them. How the dickens does he suppose I'm going to make a team if he
keeps pulling a man out every little while?"

"That what he's been doing!" asked Detweiler sympathetically, his hands
in his pockets and his gaze fixed speculatively on the squad that was
dashing past. "That's Thayer on this end, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is," agreed "Boots" reluctantly. "Suppose you'd like him,
wouldn't you?"

"Well, you know the fix we're in over there, old man. Saunders is out of
it for a fortnight and Trow and Tyler haven't any ginger at all. We
might give him back to you next week, you know."

"Oh,