t he wished that he
could have stayed longer, just to play for them again. At the end he
pressed my hand and said: 'I'll come back somehow, Die, if there is
anything in it.'"

The Psychology instructor had spoken half in revery. He added quickly:
"He was pretty well gone then, poor old chap, and wandering a little,
and soon after that, why, he went over the line."

He was sorry for having let that sentence slip out. The student would
not understand it; he could not know what those last words of Blake's
had meant to him, who saw their meaning. Lyman would only think it a bit
of ghastly humor that need not have been repeated. But the manager did
not take it so, evidently.

"That reminds me of something, Diemann," he said. "I haven't talked it
over with anyone yet, because everybody is sour-balled enough as it is.
It's about Ashley. I'm afraid he is going stale."

"Yes?" said Diemann, with dull interest, "I've rather been afraid of
it."

"Of course, I knew he was up on his toes about his job, but I didn't
know just how bad it was until this afternoon. You see, you weren't
here, and after practice there were things to speak about, so I walked
over to the Hall with him. Then I thought I'd rub him myself, because
Billy is overworked, you know. He didn't answer questions for a time,
but lay quite still and looked at me, yet I don't think he saw me at
all. He began to talk away, speaking of himself, in the third person,
mind you, and about his poor play and all that. He was as clean nutty as
any man you ever saw; as near as I could make out he thought he was
Fred."

Diemann faced the manager.

"What time was this, Frank?"

"About five, I think. Shortly afterward I got your telegram. He went on
giving the straightest kind of football talk; but he was no more himself
all the time than I am he. This went on for several minutes; then he got
clear again. Pretty soon he rose and said he was faint, but guessed he
was all right. I didn't know whether to speak to the doctor or not. Now,
that sort of thing won't do; the man can't have such attacks and keep in
shape. If he goes stale, where will we be?"

"He talked like Blake, did he?"

"Yes, really he did. He had even Fred's little way of sliding over his
r's. Being troubled about having Fred's place has unstrung him. You've
noticed his absent-mindedness out on the field? I know Ashley pretty
well; he's always been sensitive as to what people think about him; he
likes to fe