ence
have you had, my boy?"

One by one the candidates answered the coach's questions and then
trotted into the field where Eric Sawyer was in command. Andy Miller and
Danny Moore stood at the coach's elbow during this ceremony, and when,
toward the last, Steve and Tom edged up, they were greeted by both.

"Here's the fine lad," said Danny, who caught sight of Steve before
Miller did. "Mr. Sam Edwards, Coach, a particular friend of mine."

Steve, rather embarrassed, started to say that his name was not Sam, but
Miller interrupted him.

"So here you are, Edwards? Glad to see you again. I've been looking for
you and Hall to drop in on me. How are you, Hall? Robey, these two have
had some experience on their high school team and I think they'll bear
watching. Shake hands with Mr. Robey, Edwards."

"Glad to know you," said the coach. "What's your position, Edwards?"

"I've been playing end, sir."

"End, eh? You look fast, too. We'll see what you can do, my boy. And
you,--er----"

"Jim Hall," supplied Danny. "Another close friend o' me boyhood, sir,
an' a fine lad, too, be-dad!"

"Tackle, sir, mostly," replied Tom.

"It's a relief to find a couple who aren't bent on being backs," said
the coach with a smile to Miller. "All right, fellows. We'll give you
all the chance in the world. Report to Sawyer now."

Steve and Tom, with the parting benediction of a portentious wink from
Danny Moore, joined the thirty-odd candidates of many ages and sizes
who, formed in two rings, were passing footballs under the stern and
frowning regard of Eric Sawyer. They edged their way into one of the
circles and were soon earnestly catching and tossing with the rest. If
Sawyer recognised them as the boys who had aroused his ire in the
rubbing room the day before, he showed no sign of it. It is probable,
though, that their football attire served as a sufficient disguise.
Sawyer apparently took his temporary position as assistant coach very
seriously and bore himself with frowning dignity. But it was not at all
beneath his dignity to call erring candidates to order or to indulge in
a good deal of heavy satire at the expense of those whose inexperience
made them awkward. Neither Steve nor Tom, however, fell under the ban of
his displeasure.

Falling on the ball followed the passing, and, in turn, gave place to
starting and sprinting. For this they were formed in line and Sawyer,
leaning over a ball at one end of the line, snapped it aw