d-field and the score 13-13.

"I'm glad you dropped that ball," said Durant, joining Teeny-bits as the
substitute half-back was walking off the field; "it came just right to
bounce up into my hands."

"It _was_ lucky," admitted the candidate, "but I was mighty ashamed of
myself."

"Well, it was a hard tackle," said Durant. "I don't blame you for
dropping the ball."

Teeny-bits was about to make a reply when he saw coming toward them a
white-haired man who walked with a limp. "There's Dad," he said, "I
didn't know he was coming to the game."

Old Daniel Holbrook approached them with a beaming face. "Well, well,
son!" he exclaimed, "I thought maybe you'd play, so I came to see the
game."

Teeny-bits introduced Durant and tried to smother a feeling of
embarrassment, the source of which he would not have cared to probe.

"Your ma, Teeny-bits, wants you should come down for Sunday dinner
to-morrow," said the station master, "and she's particular for you to
bring a friend. I've killed two young roosters and ma's fixin' 'em up
with the kind of stuffin' you like. Now if this friend of yours here
would like to come down with you I'll drive up and get both of you in
the morning after church. He looks as if he'd have a good appetite."

Teeny-bits expected to hear Neil Durant express courteous regret; he did
not for a moment think that the son of Major-General Durant and the most
popular member of Ridgley School would be interested in visiting the
humble Holbrook home. He was even a little ashamed that Dad Holbrook had
extended the invitation with so much genial assurance.

"I'll be mighty glad to come--if Teeny-bits wants me to," said Durant,
and Teeny-bits looked at him with such a queer expression of surprise
and pleasure that Neil added: "You didn't expect me to refuse an
invitation like that, did you?"

At the steps of the locker building Durant left them, and Teeny-bits
remained outside for a few minutes to talk to the station master. Then
he said good-by and went inside to take his shower.

He found his team-mates discussing the game in detail and bestowing
praise on Neil Durant.

"Well, cap'n, old scout," Ned Stillson was saying, as Teeny-bits came
clamping in, "you sure were Johnny-on-the-spot."

Though there was nothing in the words to signify actual criticism of any
one, Teeny-bits felt that the real meaning behind them was that when
some one else had failed, Durant had saved the day. That some one else