No?" flashed Mack. "You and brother Carl have been rivals for the
last two years. You've been out to beat each other on the gridiron and
now that you've turned out some cracking good teams with the smallest
college in the State, you think you've got my brother on the run!"

"I'm tickled, naturally," admitted the coach. "Wouldn't _you_ be?
Don't you suppose your brother enjoys his triumphs over _me_? ... It's
all in a spirit of good sportsmanship!"

"That part of it may be all right," conceded Mack, "but you feel strong
enough against my brother, just the same, to not want to give _me_ a
break!"

"That's bunk!" branded Coach Edward. "But there's one thing I've
always wanted to know ... why is it you quit Pomeroy after two years
and came to Grinnell?"

"That's an easy one to answer. I discovered I could never hope to make
the team that my brother was coaching. He was bending over backward to
keep from showing me any favors. When I found that out, I figured I'd
better save him from any further embarrassment and give myself a fair
chance by changing schools. That's why I came to Grinnell!"

"But why Grinnell--Pomeroy's bitterest rival? Of all the schools you
might have picked...!"

Mack grinned, sardonically. "My brother didn't think I'd ever make a
good football player. I'd hoped to be able to show him."

"That's just your greatest fault," spoke the coach, frankly. "You want
the limelight every move you make. You're wondering all the time if
everyone's looking at you ... and it's hurting your game. No good
player can be thinking of starring and playing at the same time."

Mack stared hard for a moment.

"You've got me wrong," he said, slowly. "I naturally want to do the
best I know how. And maybe I've looked to you like I wanted to attract
attention. If I have, it's only because I hoped _you'd_ take a shine
to what I was doing. The spectators didn't matter."

"You didn't need to worry about me," the coach replied. "It's my
business to keep tab on each man on the squad. I'm sorry if you feel
I've legislated against you but you force me to say that, up to the
present, I'm inclined to agree with your brother."

"You will excuse me a minute?" requested the Coach, on observing that
Mack had no comment to make for the moment, "I've an air mail letter I
must post at once."

"Okay," Mack assented,, and sank disconsolately in a chair beside the
desk as Coach Edward strode from the room, envelope in