y it had been Mooney who, almost single-handed, had accounted for
Hate's defeat. The backfield had been built around him; his experience
had been relied upon as a stabilizer for the entire eleven which was
comprised mostly of green, untried material. Removing Mooney from the
team was like jerking the center pole out from under a tent and
expecting the tent to remain standing upright. At least that is the
way members of the eleven felt about it.

And the reason Coach Brown was kicking Mooney off the team was because
he had stayed out past midnight on several occasions with his co-ed
sweetheart, Ruth Chesterton. One of John Brown's rules was that every
football man must be in bed by ten and those acquainted with his
usually strict disciplinary measures had become accustomed to obeying.
But Mooney's case had somehow been regarded as different. Folks had
come to consider him, because of his outstanding athletic prowess, a
law unto himself. In fact, Tim had become obsessed with the same
impression.

"You--you're not joking?" he asked, still unable to believe John
Brown's stern edict.

"Joking!" blazed the coach, "What would I be joking about? I warned
you what would happen ... and the same thing's going to happen to
anyone else who wilfully violates rules. You're through, Mooney, and
you're through for good. Turn in your togs at the clubhouse!"

A hurt expression crept into the eyes of Elliott's star fullback. He
took a step forward, intreatingly.

"Aw, say, Coach ... honest, I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd ... that
is, I ... I ... it won't happen again, sir."

"No, you can bet it won't," said John Brown in a voice of quiet
coldness. Then, deliberately turning his back, "All right--first and
seconds out for fifteen minutes' scrimmage!"

At Naylor College where Coach Brown had Inaugurated and made famous his
football system, he had been loved and respected by players as well as
student body. Resigning his seat of honor at Naylor had been one of
the hardest things John Brown had ever done. But, even though the
announcement of his resignation had been met at once by staggering
offers from big schools East and West, the noted coach had refused them
all. He had retired to gain what he felt to be a much needed rest from
years of strenuous yet highly enjoyed activity. And newspapers
throughout the land, devoting columns to his eulogy, extolled the
unbroken string of victories which his teams at Naylor had sc