nged along
the tops of the bookcases, which he would like to examine more closely.
But, on the other hand, eight waiting problems in algebra and some
stiff pages of grammar loomed up to dissuade him.

"Thank you very much, sir, but I guess I'd better not to-night," he
finally decided. "I haven't anything done yet for to-morrow."

"You must come again, then," smiled the scoutmaster. "I'm always glad to
have you boys drop in, even when you haven't anything special to talk
over. Good night; and good luck with the football. I may see you at
practice to-morrow."

Dale found it hard to wait for that moment. He was devoted to football,
and he had not really played in almost a year. Small wonder, therefore,
that he looked forward eagerly to even humdrum practice. He did not
propose to stay on the scrub if hard work and constant effort could
lift him to something better. But even if he failed of advancement,
he loved the game enough for its own sake to give to it unceasingly
the best that was in him.

As the days passed it began to look as if the pleasure he got merely
in playing and in the belief that his efforts contributed a little to
the good of the team was to be his sole reward. All that week he played
left tackle on the scrub, save for half an hour or so on Friday when Ward
tried him at right half, only to return him presently to his former
position.

But if Dale was disappointed, he did not show it. He told himself that
it was too soon to expect anything else. Sherman would naturally wish
to try him out in every way before making a change in the line-up. So
the tenderfoot kept himself vigorously to the scratch, growing more and
more familiar with the various formations and carefully studying the
methods of the fellows opposite him.

It was this latter occupation which brought the first faint touch of
uneasiness regarding the strength of the team at large. He could not
be quite sure, for of course ordinary practice seldom brings out the
best in a player, but it seemed as if the fellows were a bit lacking in
unity and cohesion. Of one thing at least he grew certain before he
had been on the scrub two days. Wilks, at left tackle, was hesitating
and erratic, with a tendency to ducking, which would have been even
more apparent but for the constant support and backing of Ranny Phelps.
The latter seemed not only able to play his own position with dash and
brilliancy, but also to lend a portion of his strength and skill t