t
fifteen yard sprint. Then he stopped that big bull ... Drake ... just
as it looked like Drake had a clear field. Drake fell on Judd after
the tackle and hurt him ... He'd have quit the game then and there if
it hadn't been for a piece of paper."

"A piece of paper?"

Coach Little laughed. "Yes ... I found it in his cap and gave it back
to him without reading it on his promise to stay in the game. I
suppose the kid's sweet on some girl and was more afraid of being
embarrassed than he was of being hurt!"

The great Bob's eyes clouded over, and his jaws tightened. "Poor
Buddy!" he said, softly.

CHAPTER V

FOR A SCRAP OF PAPER

Out on the field Judd was having the biggest fight of his life. There
surged up within him the desire to overcome the fears of the past. He
remembered the morning that he took the pen and signed his name to the
contract in Bob's room; remembered his coming back to Trumbull and
re-entering school; remembered how he had made himself get out for
football; remembered his mother's changed feelings toward his
activities. He had fought this thing that he knew was not a part of
him ... trying ... trying to shake it off ... but it clung to him
hardest at just the times when he wanted to do the most ... when it was
the most difficult to get away from ... and easiest to surrender.

The paper had seemed to Judd as the only outward evidence of his
determination to keep up the good fight ... to conquer fear. He did
not want to admit to anyone that he had broken faith with himself ...
he had gone so far now that there must be no turning back ...
regardless of consequences. And the piece of paper did mean something
to Judd. It meant living up to his true self ... a self which had no
use for babying; a self which never recognized failure ... a self which
did not think of itself ... first.

Judd crouched in his defensive position, a hand holding his lame
shoulder, eyes on the Canton backfield. There was a sudden shift, the
lines crashed and the big Drake came through again. But Judd, gritting
his teeth, went forward to meet him and dropped Drake for a bare two
yard gain.

"Good boy!" cried Barley, pulling Judd to his feet. "Right at 'em!"

Drake, dripping with mud and water, jogged back to his position. The
quarterback said something in Drake's ear. Drake nodded and glanced at
Billings derisively. The next moment he had the ball again and was
circling the end.

Judd, mutterin