ays later when
the news was circulated that Wesley Blair was on probation. And great
was the consternation. The football game with St. Eustace Academy was
fast approaching, and there was no time to train a satisfactory
substitute for Blair's position at full-back, even had one been in
reach. And Whipple as temporary captain was well enough, but Whipple as
captain during the big game was not to be thought of with equanimity.
The backs had already been weakened by the loss of Cloud, who, despite
his poor showing the first of the season, had it in him to put up a
rattling game. And now to lose Blair! What did the faculty mean? Did it
want Hillton to lose? But presently hope took the place of despair among
the pupils. He was going to coach up and pass a special exam the day
before the game. Professor Ludlow was to help him with his modern
languages and Remsen with his mathematics, while Digbee, that confirmed
old grind, had offered to coach him on Greek. And so it would be all
right, said the school; you couldn't down Blair; he'd pass when the
time came!

But Remsen--and Blair himself, had the truth been known--were not so
hopeful. And Remsen went to West and besought him to induce Joel to
allow him (Remsen) to ask for his reinstatement. And this West very
readily did, bringing to bear a whole host of arguments which slid off
from Joel like water from a duck's back. And Remsen groaned and shook
his head, but always presented a smiling, cheerful countenance in
public. Those were hard days for the first eleven. Despair and
discouragement threatened on all sides, and, as every thoughtful one
expected, there was such a slump in the practice as kept Remsen and
Whipple and poor Blair awake o' nights during the next week. But Whipple
toiled like a Trojan, and Remsen beamed contentment and scattered
tongue-lashings alternately; and Blair, ever armed with a text-book,
watched from the side-line whenever the chance offered.

Joel seldom went to the field those days. The sight of a canvas-clad
player made him ready to weep, and a soaring pigskin sent him wandering
away by himself along the river bluff in no enviable state of mind. But
one day he did find his way to the gridiron during practice, and he and
Blair sat side by side, or raced down the field, even with a runner, and
received much consolation in the sort of company that misery loves, and,
deep in discussion of the faults and virtues of the players, forgot
their troubles.