Because the game was so nearly over ... the Canton quarterback ordered a punt. "Mud Scow" Drake, with a self-confident smile on his dirt-rimmed face, stood with his arms outstretched waiting to send the ball far down the field ... crushing the last slight hope of victory from Trumbull. It had been a terrific game ... and Drake was conscious of his power now as never before.

Barley, realizing that this was the most critical moment in the entire game, ran along the line exhorting the half dead linesmen to a final frenzied effort.

"Get in there, fellows, and block that kick! Block that kick!"

The sidelines took up the frenzied cry.

Drake's hands closed upon the ball, he raised it shoulder high and let it drop, his muddy foot came up to meet it ... but just at that instant a body shot against him ... there was the hollow plunk of a ball striking a rather soft object and a mad scramble of flying forms.

When the referee had pulled the players apart he found Fenstermaker, Trumbull guard, lying face down upon the ball. Trumbull's ball on Canton's eleven yard line ... and fifty seconds left to play!

Judd knew that he was not capable of carrying the ball another foot. He instinctively realized that Canton would repulse any effort that Trumbull might make at running with the ball. The time was too desperately short.

Then, in a flash, there came to him the vision of practice sessions he had held with Burton, second team quarterback. Burton knew how to handle the ball, how to place it to his liking. If Burton were only in the game....

Judd spoke a few quick words to Barley and Barley ... loyal son of Trumbull ... called time out so that Burton could come into the game ... and substitute for him.

Everyone knew what was going to be attempted. Burton came racing out to Judd who had picked out the spot where he was to attempt the place kick. Three points would just win if Trumbull could make them. But the field was so soggy and the footing so uncertain. Besides ... the heavy clouds had brought dusk upon the field prematurely.

Judd removed his cap and took out the piece of white paper. He unfolded it and laid it flat upon the ground, then stepped back a few paces and Burton knelt, with hands extended, over the paper. The seconds seemed like hours.

"Hold that line!" Judd begged of the linesmen. But he need not have urged this ... tired though they were, they could be depended upon to give their all now.

The pass from the center was a bit wide but Burton caught it deftly and upended the ball upon the white piece of paper. Judd took three short steps and bit his lips as he brought his toe squarely against the pigskin ... a sharp pain shooting through his knee.

Blackwell and Barley hugged each other on the sidelines. Rudolph danced in glee. The ball had skimmed over and between the uprights ... skimmed above the bar by a hair! The timekeeper's whistle sounded and Trumbull had won a miraculous uphill game by the score of 15 to 14!

And the fellow, who, singlehanded, had made the triumph possible—weary to the point of dropping—stooped and picked up the piece of paper, stuffing it back in his cap. The next instant he was carried away upon the shoulders of the madly joyous crowd to one of the wildest victory celebrations Trumbull had ever witnessed.

* * * * *

That night, refreshed by a hot shower and with his sprains carefully bandaged, Judd accompanied the great Bob to the high school campus where a huge bonfire defied the dismal patter of rain. As they stood by the fire, listening to the cheers of the student body, Bob said to Judd: "Buddy, where's that contract?"

Judd reached sheepishly inside his overcoat and pulled out a muddy piece of paper. Bob took the paper, reached over and before Judd could stop him, tossed it in the bonfire.

Silently the two of them watched the tongues of flame eat the paper up.

When the paper had become nothing but formless ashes, Bob turned to his younger brother and reached out his hand, saying in a voice that was husky with emotion: "Well, Buddy, it's gone. You don't need the contract any longer. You lived up to more than a scrap of paper this afternoon. You lived up to the best that was in you!"

And Judd, a happy lump in his throat, could not answer. But his heart sang with the knowledge that he had won more than the football game. He had won a lasting victory over himself.

"One of these days, Judd, old scout—you're going to be taking my place at Bartlett!" Bob continued, his arm about Judd's broad shoulders.

"I—I'd sure like to," Judd replied, warmly, "Not your place exactly ... but be making a place of my own!"

Bob grinned.

"That's the stuff!" he returned, little realizing that the following football season would bring drastic changes and see his kid brother—still quite the green, clumsy youth from the country—headed for Bartlett while he ...?



CHAPTER VI

ILL NEWS AND A NEW ARRIVAL

"Hey, fellows! What do you know? Bob's not coming back!"

It was Jack Frey talking and his announcement brought exclamations of surprise and concern from the group of Bartlett men crossing the campus.

"What?"

"You're kidding!"

"If he's not coming back—good-bye football team!"

"Say, can't you guys tell when Cateye's joking?" reprimanded Benz Hoffmaster, last year member of Bartlett's backfield. "Of course Bob's coming back. He's captain-elect!"

Cateye shook his head soberly, taking a letter from his inner pocket.

"I wish I was only kidding," he said, as fellow students gathered around, "But this is straight dope. The man running the Billings farm is sick and Bob's decided to stay home a year to help his mother take care of things..."

An involuntary groan went up. Bob had been Cateye's room-mate. The two of them were also veteran members of the team, Cateye at left guard and Bob at fullback. Beyond having been the most popular fellow in school, Bob had been acknowledged the greatest player in Bartlett history. His absence would be felt off the field and on.

"But we can't let Bob stick out there on the farm!" protested Benz, "We need him too much here. Read the letter, Cateye. Let's get the details."

Cateye unfolded the letter obligingly.

"'Dear Pal,'" he read, "'I've put off writing this as long as I could, hoping that somehow things would work out so I wouldn't have to write at all. But, Jack, there's no use trying to kid myself, as much as I'd like to be back with you this year, I'm just not going to be able to make it. You see Mr. Duncan's been mighty sick for the past couple months and the doctor says he'll have to take it easy for at least half a year and that means only one thing—I've got to stick here and help mother run the place.'"

"Gee, that's tough!" muttered Curns, veteran right end.

"'But I'm sending someone in my place,'" continued Cateye, still reading, "'My kid brother, Judd—who, I think, is a natural born football player. He's worked on our farm the past four years when he hasn't been going to school and, since Bartlett doesn't bar Freshmen from her varsity, I'm hoping he shows up well enough to make the team. He's big and strong but awkward and somewhat backward. You can do a lot for him, Cateye, if you will. He's never been any further than the little old home town, except the summer he visited me in the city, and the trip to Bartlett seems like a coast to coast journey to him. But he'll get this taken out of him the first few days there and you'll really find him a corking, dependable fellow when you get to know him. I've tried to teach him a few things about football as it's played in college but he still has lots to learn. He starred, though, in the big game with Trumbull High last season. And, Cateye, if you'd like to do me a favor ... I almost hesitate to suggest this ... but if you could see your way clear to taking Judd in as your room-mate ... well, I'd never get over appreciating it. Tell the gang how sorry I am not to be coming back. Looks like, even without me, this year's prospects for a winning team, are very bright. Go to it! And don't stop till you've cleaned up on Pennington. Your old sidekick—Bob...'"

Fellow students consulted one another with glum glances. No doubt now about Bob's not returning. Suppose they'd have to make the best of it. But what do you suppose the kid brother whom he was sending was like?

"So Bob wants you to room with a farm hand!" joshed Benz, "Well, that's what I'd call a test of true friendship. Just what are you going to do about it?"

Cateye nodded. "Why not? Bob was a farm hand at that rate—when he first came on here. His brother, Judd, can't be so bad and if there's a chance of his developing into good football material..."

"You said it!"

"Bob ought to know good football material when he sees it."

Cateye grinned. "There's a postscript I didn't read you," he added, "About Judd's arriving at two-five this afternoon ..."

"Hey, that's only half an hour from now!"

"I know it, and I've an errand I've got to do first," said Cateye, "But let me give you the rest of this postscript before I beat it. Bob goes on to give his brother a boost by saying: 'Judd's in great physical trim already. You should see him tackle three hundred pound hogs out here on the farm and throw 'em...'"

A howl at this.

"Better keep out of his way, Benz!" warned Curns, "You don't weigh that much but how you eat...!"

Benz made a move in Curns' direction, Curns retreating.

"Let me finish!" pleaded Cateye, "I'm in a big hurry, guys."

"Shoot!"

"Sure! Go ahead!"

"'... and, with Coach Phillips to instruct him on kicking, just watch Judd boot that old pigskin'." concluded Cateye. "How's that for a real send-off?"

Benz whistled, "Looks to me," he laughed, "Like Bob's trying to insure his brother getting a great reception by doing a rave about him. He's got my curiosity aroused at that. I'd like to look the boy over. What do you say, fellows, we all meet Judd at the train?"

The suggestion was made impulsively and received just as impulsive a seconding.

"Good idea!"

"Give Judd a grand welcoming for Bob!"

"Make him feel at home!"

"All right," agreed Cateye, "Meet you at the train then." And he was off about his business.

The afternoon train, packed with merry students returning to Bartlett after a long summer's vacation, puffed slowly and with apparent weariness up the slight grade and came to a stop not more than a block from the college. Although Bartlett was some three miles from anything which resembled a town it happened to be located near a railroad and the company, on special occasions, had conferred a favor upon the students by stopping at the college, thus saving numerous transportation bills.

As the train pulled in, some fifteen or twenty students, led by Benz Hoffmaster, pushed to the front of the platform and peered eagerly through the passing windows, hoping to catch sight of the youth pictured in Bob's letter. Cateye, as yet, had not put in an appearance. He would have been of no help as to identification, however, for none in Bartlett had ever seen this expected new arrival. But it was likely that Judd, in some manner, would betray his identity.

Returning students, piling from the coaches, were swallowed up by awaiting friends and roommates who swarmed about them, amid much backslapping and handshaking. Everyone was glad to see everyone else back. The confusion was such that the group on the look-out for a strange face and a someone to whom the surroundings were obviously new, about reached the conclusion that one Judd Billings had escaped their notice.

"Or maybe he got so homesick he jumped off the train and's walking back to the farm," suggested Benz.

At this instant attention was drawn to the last occupant of the last coach who stumbled awkwardly off the car platform and looked dazedly about.

"There he is!" went up the shout.

Big-boned, apparently well-muscled, and of solid build, the new arrival presented a picture of strength but handled himself so clumsily as to provoke the curious interest of any passerby. In each hand he gripped a bulging suitcase.

"Hey, Judd!" called Benz, and started in his direction, followed by the group.

Startled at the sound of his name, the new arrival looked toward the charging reception committee. He drew back uncertainly as Benz dashed up, holding out his hand.

"You're Judd Billings, aren't you?"

The new arrival nodded, eyeing the fellows surrounding him with growing suspicion and uneasiness.

"Welcome to our college!" called Curns.

This brought a blaze of greetings.

"How's Bob?"

"Let's take your grips!"

"Cateye'll be here in a minute!"

"Tackled any hogs lately?"

"Here! Here! You fellahs lay off! I can handle these bags myself!" The new arrival jerked at his suitcases to pull them free from hands which reached for them. "Let go or I'll ...!"

"But, Judd ...!" protested Benz, surprised, "We only mean to ...!"

"None of your tricks now!" warned the fellow Bob had sent, "I've heard of you college guys. You're not going to haze me. I'm looking for Mr. Jack Frey ..."

"We're all friends of his!" insisted Benz, "Here, let me introduce us. Reading, left to right, is Potts, Curns, Pole, Neil ... Hold on, Judd! Where you going?"

Evidencing no interest in meeting the bunch, the new arrival had been anxiously searching the station platform for signs of anyone who might be looking for him. He now moved toward the small waiting room which served as an excuse for a depot as this junction stop was not often used by the railroad.

"Listen, Judd!" Benz blocked the way. "You're not going to pull that high hat stuff around here. We've come to meet you out of respect for Bob and we..."

"You let me through!" demanded the new arrival, prodding Benz with his suitcases.

"And what if I don't?" Benz wanted to know, "You haven't been around much, have you? 'Bout time you were learning a few things!"

"You gonna let me through or not?"

There was fire in the new arrival's eye. He wasn't in the mood to be kidded. This stepping off the train into a college atmosphere and being met by a bunch of hoodlums who wanted to slap him on the back and take his grips away from him and rush him off with a lot of "hurrahs" didn't set well. Judd Billings was homesick for one thing; he'd been warned to have nothing to do with strangers, for another; and his natural backwardness in meeting people only added to his quite unaccountable attitude of reserve and resistance. Jack Frey was the one person Judd was prepared to meet. If later Jack should vouch for these fellows, all well and good. Until then he intended to keep them at arm's length.

"See here, Judd!" spoke up Potts, "You're acting like a rube!"

"I'll say he is!" seconded Benz, "Try to befriend him and..."

Giving Benz his shoulder, the new arrival, with a sudden, unexpected shove sent Bartlett's veteran football man sprawling.

"Oh ho!" cried Pole, "So the party's getting rough!"

Regaining his feet, Benz approached Judd angrily.

"Put down those suitcases!" he demanded, "I want to take a crack at you."

The new arrival attempted to edge out of the group surrounding him.

"Leave me be," he said, "I don't want to be hurting anybody!"

This brought a chorus of defiant laughter.

"I dare you to put those suitcases down!" challenged Benz.

Judd hesitated, looking about him warily. The train had gone on and most of the passengers had departed with their friends. In the distance a figure was advancing on the run.

"I tell you fellahs, I ..."

"So you're afraid, eh?"

The new arrival stiffened at this, his fingers twitched, and he fastened upon Benz a coldly penetrating look. Judd's fear of physical contact was no more. The suitcases dropped to the cinder platform and hands went to hips.

"I reckon I can't stop you, if you're hankering for a fight," came the words with a drawl.

Somehow this clumsy broad-shouldered figure took on an appearance of power as he seemed to forget himself, which bred respect.

"Go easy, Benz!" warned Neil, sizing Judd up, "No use starting trouble."

"I'm not starting it," retorted Benz, "I'm finishing it."

With that the ringleader of the ill-treated reception committee swung a vicious right hook to the new arrival's jaw. Judd's left arm flashed up to block the blow. At the same moment Judd took a quick step forward and brought his right fist into play. It caught Benz almost on the point of the chin and spun him about in a circle.

"Say, the rube can fight!" exclaimed Potts, surprised. "Boy, he's sure different from his brother!"

"Here, fellows! What's the big idea?"

The figure of Cateye hurled itself between as Benz, reeling, staggered back toward Judd, bent on retaliating.

"Let me at him!" pleaded Benz, furiously, "I'll show him he can't get away with this stuff. So Bob sent him, eh? What a lemon!"

Cateye sized up the situation quickly.

"My name's Frey," he explained to Judd who was standing by quietly, hands again on hips, "Bob asked me to meet you, I'm sorry to be late. What seems to be the matter?"

"These fellahs wouldn't let me alone, that's all," said Judd, simply.

"We come to meet him and he gives us the cold shoulder," declared Curns, "Afraid we're going to make off with his precious suitcases or smash his straw hat or throw dust in his eyes!"

"We college guys are bad eggs and no mistake!" put in Neil, sarcastically.

"My mother told me not to have anything to do with strange people," added Pole.

"Will you please tell Mr. Billings, for his own enlightenment, that he's among civilized people?" requested Potts, icily.

"These fellows are all right," Cateye assured, as Judd gazed about him doubtfully, "They didn't mean anything. They're all good friends of Bob's. They just wanted to show you a good time. You probably took them too seriously. Come on, Judd, we'll take your things to my room."

Relieved, the new arrival stooped and picked up his suitcases. His face wore a sheepish look but he offered no apology for his conduct. Rather he seemed anxious to get away from the bunch.

"A—am I goin' to bunk with you?" he asked of Cateye.

"Bunk?" repeated Cateye, "Oh, sure! You're going to be my room-mate."

"Heaven forbid!" said someone.

"Take him away," urged Benz, "We don't want anything more to do with him."

And without another word being spoken Cateye set off with Judd, the new arrival stalking along, carrying the two bulging suitcases easily, scorning Cateye's offer of aid.

"That guy's cooked his goose at Bartlett!" declared Benz, feelingly, "And from now on, guys, he's just a plain rube to me!"

"Rube's the right word!" agreed Pole.

"That's what we'll call him after this!" decided Curns, "Rube!"

And so, one Judd Billings, sent to Bartlett by his highly esteemed brother Bob, stepped off into a new world, for him, on the wrong foot.



CHAPTER VII

THE FIRST NIGHT

"But, Judd," argued Cateye, weakly, "I never sleep with my window wide open like that. Especially this time of year. Why there is frost on the ground in the morning and the room will be cold as ice when we wake up!"

"Well, I can't see any harm in good ventilation. I slept in the barn most all this summer an' I don't look sick, do I?" said Judd, for the third time.

Cateye looked him over. No, to be sure, Judd didn't look very sick. In fact he seemed exceedingly robust. One hundred and ninety-six pounds, most of it worked into well formed and almost abnormal muscles.

"I can't say that you do look sick," admitted Cateye, "That's just why you can stand it. But I,—I'm not used to such outdoor measures. Do you want to turn this room into a park?"

"Not eggs-actly a park, but I believe in lots of fresh air an', ..."

"Have it your own way then!" growled Cateye, savagely, seeing the uselessness of further argument.

He ventured no more remarks but watched Judd's every action curiously, musing: "I can't see Bob's idea in wishing this bird on me—even if he is his own brother—but I've taken him in now and I'll stick it out to the end."

Meanwhile Judd had removed a wallet from his pocket and was in the act of secreting it between mattress and springs.

"I say, Judd, what's the idea of hiding your wad? Nobody will steal it. There aren't any thieves about here!"

Cateye, already in bed, raised himself upon his elbow and eyed his new room-mate interestedly.

"You never can tell, Mister Frey. I had my dinner swiped this noon an' I'm not takin' any chances!"

"For heaven's sake, Judd, call me Cateye. Everybody else does."

"Well, I reckon I can," replied Judd, slowly, having completed the action of hiding his wallet to his evident satisfaction.

"Those feet and those hands," sighed Cateye to himself, "would make Babe Ruth turn green with envy!"

Judd struggled awkwardly into a home-made nightshirt.

Cateye buried his head in a pillow and bit his lip to keep from laughing outright. "Ye Gods! And is this only the beginning?" he asked himself.

The question was almost immediately answered.

"Gee mackerel!" howled Judd, as he rolled into bed and sunk down amidst the folds of a soft feather mattress. "This may be the ticket for babes but it's no place for me! I can't sleep on anything soft. It's bad for the spine. Me for the floor!"

"You're not going to sleep on the floor!"

"You bet I am!" mumbled Judd, emphatically, dragging the bed sheets off and arranging them on the floor. "I lay out straight when I go to sleep. I don't tie myself up in any fancy bow knots!"

Cateye rolled over with a groan, "What next?"

Judd, at last satisfied, switched out the lights and deposited his minus two hundred pounds upon the floor. "This is the life!" he breathed fondly a few minutes later. Then the sandman bagged Cateye for three solid hours of sleep.

It must have been one o'clock or after when Cateye awoke. At any rate it was late,—very late, and Cateye was so sleepy,—but what was that peculiar sound?

Cateye came to his senses like a flash and sat bolt upright in bed. The moon was casting a pale, white shadow into the room and the air was noticeably chilly.

"I thought I heard someone shout," Cateye sputtered, his teeth inclined to chatter, "but I guess it was only a bad dream." He listened intently for a few moments. All that he could hear was the labored breathing of Judd who seemed to be enjoying his slumber immensely. Cateye laid down and tried to sleep once more but found sleep impossible. He fell to thinking of Judd and Bob and then of Judd again.

Suddenly a voice, unmistakeable this time, spoke out of the darkness. "Yes, I'll be home in time for dinner, mother. I've only got three acres left to plow."

The hair on Cateye's head began to re-arrange itself. "What on earth can it be?" Cateye gasped through shut teeth to keep from crying aloud. "There,—that voice again!"

"Get up, Nancy! Whoa, Nell! Gee—haw! Tarnation, but this land is rocky! Don't see why Dunk wants this land plowed anyhow!"

"Why, oh, why did I take that guy in for a room-mate?" moaned Cateye. "He even gives himself away in his sleep!"

The talking recommenced. "No, I didn't fix the harness. I thought I'd wait till after supper.... the young whip-snap! He stole my dinner! If I ever lay hands on him I'll,—I'll—"

At this juncture, Judd, making a strenuous effort, rolled over upon the floor and opening his mouth wide broke into loud sonorous snores.

"Thank heaven he's at least stopped talking!" grunted Cateye, much relieved and wiping the cold perspiration from his brow. "I hope he doesn't walk in his sleep too!"

The snoring increased into a steady rumble.

"Shall I waken him?" Cateye asked himself. "I can't sleep through an artillery engagement." But, on second thought, he decided to lay low and accept the bombardment. After all, he was only doing this as a favor to Bob, but the favor was getting to be a pretty big one.

How long Cateye held the fort he did not know but the cannonading ceased as the campus clock was striking three and relieved from duty he fell asleep at his post.

He awakened again at five A.M. conscious of someone astir in the room. Judd was up and dressed!

"Why so early, Judd?" whispered Cateye, "We don't usually rise until seven here."

But Judd seemed to feel that he had already overslept since he always used to be up at four A.M. He never could sleep after four o'clock and besides he told Cateye jokingly, "I have the cows to milk an' the chores to do before breakfast."

"That's too bad," grunted Cateye, "And you've worked hard all night too!'

"Me? I had a grand old snooze!"

"Snooze nothing! You plowed three acres of land, fixed a harness and, ..."

"Huh! Is that what you call kiddin'?" Judd began to grow suspicious.

"Call it anything you like," snapped Cateye, his patience gone, and bound to have it out. "You talk in your sleep, snore like blazes, and I imagine you'll walk, too, when you get the lay of the land!"

Judd's suspicious looks vanished and a sheepish grin spread over his face. "Never mind that, Cateye," he said, "I can't help it. It runs in the family."

This was the last straw and when it broke it took with it Cateye's rising anger. Judd's sense of humor had saved the day. In spite of himself, Cateye laughed.

"Put her there, Judd," he cried, softly, holding out his hand. "You're not at all like your brother but I fear I am going to like you. If you can stand that fracas, I can, only please leave some long intervals between your performances."

Judd stretched out his big, brawny hand and crushed Cateye's firm palm in his.

"Judd! Let go! Do you want to maim me for life?" protested Cateye, trying to withdraw his hand from Judd's strong embrace.

"That's another one of my failin's," apologized Judd, "I always grip too hard!"



CHAPTER VIII

JUDD PRACTICES FOOTBALL

Although Bartlett was one of the smaller colleges of the state, it was also one of the most popular. Proud alumni pointed to the fact that more men, afterwards become great, had graduated from Bartlett than any other college of its size in the world. Besides, Bartlett had gained a wide reputation and much respect from the larger universities and colleges because of her ability to turn out winning athletic teams. True, Bartlett had never as yet succeeded in downing the State University or defeating many of the bigger colleges, but she had always given a good account of herself. Fond hopes were held out by students as well as alumni that, in the near future, Bartlett would clearly demonstrate her superiority in some branch of athletics over the best teams in that part of the country.

The nearest Bartlett ever came to any real prominence was early in the history of the institution. That year, the newly founded college turned out a wonderful football team, challenging and defeating Pennington, claimants of the State Championship, by a 17 to 6 score. After this truly unexpected victory Bartlett asked and received a game with the State University, but this eleven soundly trounced them, 28 to 7, and all aspirations for State honors fled.

However, the defeat of Pennington, which was the second largest institution of learning in the state, put Bartlett forever in the select class. The defeat also gave Bartlett a bitter rival. The drubbing at the hands of the smaller college had been a hard pill for the Penningtonites to swallow and in after years they sought to wipe out the blot upon their former record.

Spurred on by their previous success Bartlett always provided stiff opposition against Pennington and much interest as well as excitement was manifested over contests between the two colleges although at the present time, Pennington seemed to have had the best of the argument. To venture a statement that Pennington did hold the upper hand, however, while speaking to a Bartlett student, would be the means of placing your life in extreme jeopardy.

The college campus at Bartlett was uniquely laid out in the form of a great wagon wheel. From the hub of this wheel, cement sidewalks, acting figuratively as spokes, led the way to the outer rim which consisted of a wide, circular walk passing entirely about the edge of the grounds. All of the college buildings were grouped about this large circle so that they were readily accessible from any point on the campus. One needed only to select the spoke leading up to the building he wished to visit and a few minutes walk would take him there. Great elm trees, whose foliage and limbs so beautifully shaded the well kept grounds, made the campus a place to be admired by students and visitors alike.

The next morning, after his eventful night, Cateye was hurrying to chapel when someone hailed him from behind.

"I say, Cateye! Wait a minute, will you?"

It was Pole's voice and Cateye turned about questioningly.

"Well, what is it?"

"Do you mind telling me what that noise was I heard in your room last night? You know my room is right next to yours, ..."

"Noise! What noise?" queried Cateye, forgetting himself for the moment.

"That's just it! What noise? It sounded like the distant rumbling of thunder. In fact it was so realistic that I got up and shut my window to keep the rain from beating in before I tumbled to the fact that the manufactured product was coming from your room!"

"Oh!" laughed Cateye, a light beginning to dawn, "That's only Judd; he snores."

"Snores! Great guns, he booms! Why, I'd have sworn the walls shook last night. And say,—does he do anything else?"

"Talks some," admitted Cateye, reluctantly.

"Indeed!" scoffed Pole, making a beautiful pair of arches with his eyebrows. "I'll say he talks some! In fact if he talks some more tonight,—well, tell him to BEWARE,—that's all!"

"You can hardly blame a man for making some disturbance who plows a three acre field in one night," grinned Cateye.

"Is that what he did?"

"Yes,—in his sleep."

"How do you stand it?"

"I don't stand it; I put up with it."

"Surely you don't intend to keep that rube as a room-mate! Why, that'll make you the laughing stock of the college. The idea of rooming with a guy that plows fields in his sleep. Deucedly funny. Bah!"

"He struck rocks, too!"

"When? Where?"

"Plowing that field of his."

"Well, I hope he strikes a boulder to-night and breaks his plow so he can't work any more. Either you get rid of that guy or I'll change my room!"

"Go ahead,—change your room!" Cateye looked at Pole defiantly.

"I will, if that nut starts to thunder again tonight!"

Pole departed with a vicious stride, giving one the resemblance of a man on stilts.

Cateye stood watching him, an amused smile on his face.

Three weeks passed quickly. During this time Judd underwent a trying period. Wherever he chanced to go he provoked laughter and was made the object of many petty but harmless jokes. There was no doubt about it, Judd was slow, but he was also good natured and when he saw the joke, enjoyed it as much as anyone. Largely through Cateye's untiring efforts his rough edge was gradually being worn away, and, while he had formed few friends, still he had made no real enemies. Most of the fellows took him as a huge joke.

Cateye had written to Bob: "Judd is a great scout and getting on fine. He certainly has the build for a great football player. I've been giving him pointers and I'm anxious for practice to begin so I can see how good he really is."

After the first night Judd talked only during waking hours, a fact which greatly astonished Cateye. True, Judd still snored some, but he could easily be forgiven for this minor offense so long as he did not take a notion to plow any more fields. Moreover Cateye had succeeded in breaking Judd in to soft, downy beds and in making him strive to do things much as other fellows would.

Two weeks later as Cateye was crossing the campus he was met by Benz who slapped him joyfully on the back.

"Football practice begins to-morrow! Since Bob did not come back this year the eleven will have to meet and elect a new captain."

"That's so," recalled Cateye, "Be great to get back in harness again, eh, Benz?"

"You bet! Say,—d'you suppose Rube'll be out to-morrow?"

"I don't know."

"I hope he is. That fellow is the richest joke that ever hit Bartlett college. Why, if he doesn't know any more about football than he does about table manners, ..."

"See here, Benz!" retorted Cateye, impatiently, "haven't you had about enough fun at Judd's expense? Seems to me three weeks has been time enough to wear the joke off some. He's a peculiar fellow, I'll admit, but a great scout once you know him."

"Well then,—I don't know him yet, that's all," retorted Benz.

"Better come over some time and get acquainted!" Cateye spun on his heel and walked off, leaving Benz puzzled and indignant.

Two weeks more whiled away with nothing eventful happening. Football training had gotten well under way. Benz had been elected captain of the eleven over Cateye by one vote. Both men had won their letters for two years and were looked upon with respect and admiration by the other members of the team. Judd had turned out for practice but his ever present awkwardness had caused no end of merriment and made him the brunt for criticism from the mouth of Coach Phillips, himself. "Mighty good material," the coach had said, "But, he certainly needs seasoning!"

The first night that scrimmage was held, Judd, who had been playing left tackle on the second team in practice now got his first chance to demonstrate his ability. Benz was playing fullback on the varsity. Students thronged the sidelines.

The varsity kicked off and held the seconds for downs on their thirty yard line. The first play called for a line smash through left tackle. Benz came tearing in; his interference crumpled; he felt a hard shoulder against his knees, and the next moment hit the ground with a terrible thud which knocked the wind completely out of him. When he came to he looked around quietly, felt of himself, and sat up. "Steam roller or locomotive?" he asked, gamely.

"Only Rube," laughed Curns, who was playing right end on the varsity.

"Hump! He did it on purpose just to show me up. I'll get him!"

"No he didn't!" denied Cateye, indignantly, who happened to hear Benz's threat. "Judd says he didn't mean to throw you so hard. He always tackles that way. He stops whatever comes through his side the line."

"I guess he does!" grunted Benz, jumping dazedly to his feet. "Well, he won't get me again. Come on, gang, let's have a touchdown!"

Despite their efforts the varsity could not cross the line and the ball went over to the scrubs on the twenty yard line.

"Can any one in this gang punt?" asked McCabe, the quarterback. "We've only got one real punter in this college an' that's Benz."

"I used to be able to kick some," volunteered Judd, to McCabe's amazement.

"Play ball!" growled the varsity, anxious for more scrimmage.

"Good! I'll drop into your position. You go behind the line and receive the ball. We haven't any handsome array of signals yet. Give that pigskin fits!"

"I'll try!" grinned Judd, trotting back.

The students along the sidelines wondered at this latest move of Judd's. They had opened their eyes wide at the way he broke up the interference and nabbed Benz for a loss, a few plays before. Was he going to bring more renown to himself by disclosing some real toe work?

The ball was snapped back. Judd caught it clumsily but seemed over-anxious. The pigskin dropped and his mighty leg swung up to make the punt, but in some unaccountable manner, ball and foot missed connections and Judd described a graceful semi-circle, alighting flat on his back. It was so funny that the players on both sides refused to play. They just fell in their tracks and howled. Judd crawled slowly to his feet, his face crimson, his jaws set tight. The field was ringing with laughter. Even immobile as he usually was, Coach Phillips could not refrain from smiling. Luckily a scrub recovered the ball, but eight yards had been lost on the play.

"Call that play again!" Judd demanded, somewhat angrily.

"What! You're not going to repeat that performance, are you?" taunted Benz, elated at Judd's poor showing.

"Better let me kick it this time," suggested McCabe, "I think I can punt a little farther than that!"

"So can I!" insisted Judd. "Give me another chance!"

There was something in Judd's eyes which made McCabe consent.

Everyone knew that the same play was to be attempted. Benz set himself ready to break through the line the moment the ball was snapped back. Here was his chance to break up the play and make Judd look more ridiculous than ever. The revenge would be sweet. Back went the ball! Benz shot through the line like a thunderbolt; Judd was raising his arms, his foot was swinging up. Benz leaped desperately into the air to block the punt. There was a firm, hollow sound of pigskin meeting toe and Benz felt the leather whiz past his face. Far down the field, even yet high in the air, soared the ball, twisting and turning! A gasp of amazement came from the crowd, then cheers.

"A good fifty yard punt!" cried several. "He can punt after all, can't he?"

"The lucky stiff!" groaned Benz.



CHAPTER IX

AT THE FAIR

It was the first of October, and Saturday. The day before the varsity had played its first football game of the season, trouncing Needham, 48 to 0. The work of Benz at fullback, who was endeavoring to fill the famous Bob's position, was a feature of the game. Time after time he tore off long runs through the left side of the line and mainly because there was no man like Judd on the opposing team to stop him. Cateye's work at left guard had made that side of the line as solid as a stone wall. Judd sat quietly by the sidelines, notebook in hand, jotting down different pointers on the game as they occurred to him. He was eager to learn, so eager! But would he ever know enough about the game to make the first team?

To-day, Saturday, marked a day of rest for the eleven. Coach Phillips never allowed his men to work out the day after a game. Accordingly the fellows looked about for some new form of recreation.

"I'll tell you, fellows!" suggested Benz, struck by a new idea, "This is the last day of the fair at Tarlton. Let's all attend in a bunch!"

The suggestion met with unanimous approval. Saturday was the only day that the students were allowed to visit town without a special permit.

"Great stuff! Let's start!" shouted Curns.

"All right, we'll meet on the campus at ten this morning and hoof it to town."

"Oh, I say, Benz! Have a heart! I left my walking stick at home."

"Come on, glove stretcher, don't be a quitter," pleaded Benz, "I've another idea! Let's ask Rube to go along. We'll have no end of fun. He's a regular side show by himself!"

"With the menagerie thrown in!" sniffed Pole.

"What d'ya say?" persisted Benz, "Shall we invite him?"

"Yea!"

"All right, then. Ten o'clock, fellows!"

Ten o'clock found all of the bunch collected except Pole, Judd and Cateye. Everyone was anxious to start.

"Why don't those nuts hurry up?" growled Potts, stamping about, restlessly.

"Here they come, Pole and Rube! I wonder where Cateye is? Say, we sure will have some fun with Rube if he isn't around. He always takes Rube's part!" cried Benz, joyfully.

"Cateye couldn't come. Too much work to do!" shouted Pole, when in hearing distance. "But I brought Rube."

"Good enough! Come on, bunch. Let's beat it into town now. It's only three miles and we can make it before noon!"

The party started off at a rapid gait. Judd swung along easily, despite his weight, taking the lead. Not much was said until half the distance had been traversed. About this time there began to be stragglers who could not keep the pace that Judd was unconsciously setting.

The fellows exchanged winks. Such a joke to be outwalked by a rube! Benz passed the word along: "For heaven's sake, guys, keep up to Rube's pace if it takes all the pep you've got! If this news ever gets back to college, ..."

But the faster gait of the fellows only spurred Judd to shake forth another reef, so that without knowing it he was rapidly tiring the bunch.

"And I thought I was in condition!" panted Benz.

"My legs are long, but,—" began Pole, then shook his head helplessly. "Oh, what's the use!"

"Only another mile, guys!" called Benz, cheerfully, glancing slyly at Judd. "Some exercise, eh Rube?".

"You're right! One ought to do this every day. I'm kind of out of practice now, but I reckon I'll be in form coming back!"

"Great express trains! Did you hear that?" whispered Curns, wiping perspiration from his forehead. "I'll be hanged if I try to keep the pace of this rube goin' back! I never was cut out for a long distance runner!"

"I'm on my last legs," groaned Potts, to Benz.

"I know it's only half a mile more but this pace is too hot. I'll have to drop out. Tell the folks at home I died a brave death."

"You sprained your ankle," hinted Benz, himself eager for a chance to rest.

"So I did!" cried Potts, happily grasping at any strategic ruse which might stop the line of march. "Oh, my ankle! Fellows, help! I've turned my ankle! Wow! No, not my left one, my right! Oh, my! Oh, my!"

"What a pitiful accident!" sympathized Benz, soberly, removing Potts' shoe and rubbing the ankle roughly. At the same time he winked slyly at the bunch.

Momentarily checked, the fellows threw themselves flat upon their backs and inhaled long, deep breaths of the refreshing air. All, save Judd. He strode about in circles, anxious to be off again.

"I'd give a dime to get these kinks out of my legs," he muttered, slowly.

"I'll raise you five on my ankle, Rube," groaned Potts in fake agony.

A half hour of delicious rest elapsed before Benz, as medicine man, declared his patient, Potts, able to stand upon his pins again and undertake the treacherous journey townward. During this time every member of the party had sufficiently recovered his sea legs to trust themselves to a half mile jaunt. Judd, restless and extremely desirous of completing the trip, redoubled his speed.

Potts kept up well for the first hundred yards, then began to hobble painfully. "My ankle, Rube!" he moaned. "Have some consideration!"

"Pardon me, I'd plumb forgotten that you bruised your shin!" Judd slowed up. Fifteen minutes later an exhausted looking party dragged themselves into Tarlton.

"Stranger, can you direct me the shortest way to a free lunch?" asked Pole, hailing a passer-by.

"And a free bed?" added Potts.

"Walker's lunch room next block down," informed the stranger, gruffly.

"That's just the place for us! Get the name? W-a-l-k-e-r's lunch. Zowie! Lead me to it!" cried Oole, a big, good-natured Hollander, who played left tackle on the varsity. "Jus' give me a chance to feed my face! Yah!"

After the fellows had partaken of a good meal they felt revived enough to attend any fair, and inspired by Walker's lunch they walked another half mile to the fair grounds.

Everything was going full blast when they arrived. Merry-go-rounds, ferris wheels, confetti stands, lemonade and taffy booths, were all reaping their harvests. Even the fat man was entertaining large audiences. The fellows had a thoroughly good time and took in almost every sight on the grounds. Judd had been kidded and made fun of until he was followed about by a troop of youngsters who thought he was a clown employed by the fair people. Judd was really embarrassed and noticeably awkward.

At four o'clock the bunch were about to leave when Pole chanced to sight a tent before which a big crowd had collected.

"What's over there, fellows? We haven't been in that tent yet. Let's see what's up!"

Curiosity ruled the day and the bunch trooped over in front of the tent.

"Hump! Nothin' but a horse show!" scoffed Curns, disgustedly, "I'm goin', fellows."

"Hold on, what's he saying?" cried Benz, calling attention to the man on the platform.

The bunch grew attentive.

"Ladles an' gentlemen. Las' but not least we 'ave with us Dynamite, the stubbornest donkey 'at ever lived! No human bein' has ever been able to stick on Dynamite's back fer more than three minutes. To any man who kin ride Dynamite fer ten minutes wid out gittin' thrown, this here management offers the fab'lous sum o' twenty-five dollars! Twenty-five dollars,—tink of it! Jes' fer ridin' Dynamite. 'At's all. Seems easy, don't it? Las' performance Dynamite only throwed three men an' one of 'em had a rib busted. Remember, this management is not responsible fer no injuries or deaths resultin' from ridin' Dynamite. If any man here wants ter tackle Dynamite he comes at his own risk. The show begins in five minutes. Think it over, gents. Here's an easy twenty-five bucks if you want it. But remember,—Dynamite, ain't ever been ridden!"

"By the great hornspoons!" whispered Benz in Pole's ear. "Here's the chance of our lives to have a circus with Judd. Let's get the rube to tackle Dynamite. Of course he'll get thrown but think of the fun of seein' it!"

"But he might get killed or injured!" faltered Pole.

"Nonsense! A man as physically fit as Rube isn't going to get busted up by falling off a donkey. Come on, let's get him to try out Dynamite!"

Pole finally consented. "Say, Rube," he said, "You can ride Dynamite! Why don't you go in an' try it? That'd be the easiest twenty-five bucks you ever earned!"

"I was just thinkin' of that myself," replied Judd, hesitatingly.

"Here, ... I'll lend you a quarter," returned Pole, growing generous. "I'd like to see you get the money, Rube."

"Yes, we're all with you, Rube," put in Benz, and winked at the bunch.

"Do you fellows think I could stick to Dynamite?" asked Judd, cautiously. "I've ridden everythin' from hogs to bulls but I don't know about this here donkey bizness."

"Try it anyhow, Rube. We'll come in and cheer for you."

"Sure, Rube, go to it!"

"Well, ... all right. I reckon it won't do any harm to try."

"Good!" Pole edged his way over to the ticket seller. "This here fellow wants to tackle Dynamite!"

"What! That guy? Why, Dynamite'll break every bone in his body, son. Your friend is crazy!"

"He's no piece of china, Mister!" shot back Pole. "Look him over. I'll bet Rube can ride Dynamite!" turning and winking at the bunch. Judd stood by, quietly, soberly.

"I'll have to speak to the manager about this," replied the ticket seller, seeing that Pole was in earnest. "Hey, George, come here a minute! This kid wants to tackle Dynamite!" He pointed a long, slim finger at Judd.

"What! Say, boy, do you know what you're goin' up against? We didn't name that donkey Dynamite fer nothin'!"

"Just the same I'd like to tackle him, sir," spoke up Judd. "I'm willin' to take all risks!"

"You heard that, gentlemen? You're my witnesses!" replied the manager, for the benefit of the crowd. "He says he's willin' to take all risks. Are you ready fer the funeral, kid?"

"Yes," replied Judd, calling the bluff. "And where are you goin' to bury your donkey?"

The manager laughed gruffly. "Come on in an' I'll introduce you to Dynamite. Remember, twenty-five plunks are yours if you stick on Dynamite fer ten minutes. And here's the money!" He reached down inside his pocket and pulled forth a roll of bills. "I'll give the money to this policeman fer you to claim if you stick to Dynamite. If you do it'll be the first time in history,... but it can't be did, kid! 'At's all!"

The bunch filed into the tent. Judd removed his coat, disclosing a checkered shirt and a pair of suspenders. He then took off his shoes, seeming unconscious of the interested crowd about him and the titter of laughter which went the rounds. The manager stepped into the big ring, leading Judd after him. "Ladles an' gentlemen, meet Mister Judd Billings. He's a freshman in Bartlett college. An' it's the earnest wish of this management 'at he'll be able to continue his studies there after his little affair with Dynamite. Henry, bring in the mule!"

Everyone craned their necks toward the side entrance. Suddenly, with a loud, "Hee Haw!" Dynamite shot into the ring, an attendant frantically pulling at the halter. The crowd cheered.

Judd eyed the animal carefully. Dynamite was large and, from his pawing and snorting, very excitable.

Pole shut his eyes and grasped the railing that surrounded the ring, fearing the consequences.

"Poor Rube," he said.

"Poor Rube nothin'!" scoffed Benz, "Watch the fun!"

Judd's face reddened. It came over him, in a flash, that the fellows had pulled "a put up job" on him and that he was being made sport of in front of the crowd.

"If Judd Billings rides this animal successfully, this management cheerfully gives him twenty-five dollars," reminded the manager. "But he must stick to Dynamite's back for ten minutes. Everyone get your watches out. Now Judd! Now Dynamite, blow him up!"

The manager left the ring hurriedly. The attendant gave Judd the halter and also fled. Judd moved slowly, precisely, cautiously. While Dynamite hee-hawed stubbornly and tried to pull away, Judd jerked the halter fiercely, pulled the mule toward him, stepped up, grasped a long ear firmly, and swung up onto Dynamite's back. The crowd gasped and consulted their watches. The fight was on!

The moment that Judd touched Dynamite's back was a signal for the explosives to let loose. The mule bounded into the air and came down stiff-legged. But Judd had curled his legs tightly about the body and buried his toes in its flanks. His powerful hands each gripped a long ear which he twisted and squeezed at his pleasure. Dynamite bellowed with rage and shot about the ring, kicking, biting, rearing; but unable to throw off the rider.

"Great work, Rube!" shouted Benz, unable to conceal his admiration. "That-a-boy! Stick to him. One minute's gone all ready. Only nine more!"

As mule and Judd passed by the railing where the fellows were excited onlookers, a mighty cheer went up. Judd's face wore an expression of set determination.

Dynamite was not used to being held by the ears. He could not stick his head between his legs and roll over as he had been accustomed to. He tried until he was almost frantic to free his head, but Judd's grip was vice-like.

Five minutes crawled slowly past and still Judd kept his seat, despite a series of bucks, plunges, side-steps, rearings, and sudden balks.

The manager clutched his watch nervously. No man had ever remained seated that long before and twenty-five dollars would eat into the night's profit.

"He can't last another five minutes," the manager told himself. "Throw yourself, Dynamite! Throw yourself!"

As if obeying orders Dynamite reared up and fell sideways.

"Look out, Rube!" shrieked the crowd.

"Gad!" cried Pole, "Look at that, will you?"

Judd had struck the ground with Dynamite but remained on top and when Dynamite struggled to his feet Judd was still on his back.

"Nine minutes gone!" somebody yelled, "Stick to it, Rube! You've got the money, kid!"

Dynamite was raving wild now. No man had ever remained seated after a tumble like that! With a final snort of rage he dashed about the ring, jumping high in the air, bucking, twisting, turning. It was no use. Judd could not be shaken off.

"Time!" roared the crowd, hoarsely.

The attendant rushed out to rescue Dynamite.

"Never mind, Mister," smiled Judd, perspiration trickling down his face. "Dynamite won't explode any more. He's meek as a lamb an' all in!"

True, Dynamite might just as well have been christened Talcum Powder now, for all the fight there was in him. The poor donkey had no further ambitions to unseat other riders and was perfectly content to let Judd perch on his back.

"Son, you're all right!" congratulated the manager, holding out his hand. "I'm a game loser. I'm not only out twenty-five dollars but my Dynamite is all gone. A baby could ride that mule now! Officer, pay this man the money. He earned it all right!"



CHAPTER X

AN ATTEMPTED HOLD-UP

It was exactly six-thirty and the fellows were just finishing a good supper at Walker's lunch counter. Judd had become a hero in the eyes of everyone now, except Benz. He could not allow himself to think of Judd being other than just a plain country rube and although mightily astonished at Judd's showing he passed it off finally with: "The lucky stiff!"

Pole was speaking. "Rube, seeing you've got so much kale now you might pay back that quarter I loaned you, with interest."

"Yes, an' don't forget that dollar an' a half you owe me," chimed in Oole, with his mouth full of Boston baked beans.

"I don't owe you a cent an' never did!"

"He's only kiddin', Rube," soothed Curns, "Just so you remember me in your will, I'll be satisfied."

Judd grinned; then his face grew sober. "Well, fellahs, I reckon we'd better be gettin' home. It's a long walk an' it's gettin' dark. Besides, I got quite a bit o' money an' I don't want to take any chances o' losin' it."

"That's right! I move we do go home," grunted Oole, then sweetly to the waiter, "Another plate of beans, please."

"Behold, gentlemen, the human storehouse!" derided Pole, pointing at Oole.

"That's enough from you, macaroni!" retorted Oole, tearing a biscuit in two, savagely.

"Did you say Marconi? Gentlemen, I am honored!" began Pole, then placed a hand over his eye. "Thanks for the biscuit Oole, but please pass them next time. Such table manners!"

Benz had been quiet for some time. He was a little indignant to think of the renown Judd was getting. Why, all the fellows were beginning to pay attention to him now. And he, a rube! Benz's one desire was to do something which might make Judd the laughing stock of the college; something which would provoke ridicule whenever referred to.

"I've got it!" he whispered. "Judd's afraid of robbers. Why, I heard that he hides his wallet under the mattress or carpet every night before he goes to bed. Why not pull a fake hold-up and scare him stiff on the way home to-night? Great! I'll put the fellows wise."

Benz got busy and soon everyone knew the plot but the unsuspecting Judd. Some fellows objected strenuously, but finally consented when they considered what a rich joke it really would be.

"Pole, it's up to you to get Rube started for college. The rest of us fellows will make some excuses and hang around town until you two are gone. I'll get a revolver and some masks and with the bunch will take a short cut through Perry field and meet you near the mill pond. Get busy!" Benz was insistent.

"I tell you, I hate to do this thing," Pole hesitated, "Seems to me we've pestered Rube about enough. He proved to us that he's the real stuff this afternoon and I'm for leaving him alone."

"But think of the sport, Pole. Think of it! Can you picture him begging for mercy when I point that gun at him and say, 'Hands up!' Can you?"

"I guess almost anyone would beg for mercy in a situation like that," replied Pole, not easily moved.

"Oh, come on, just this once," pleaded Benz.

"... All right, it's not my funeral," yielded Pole, finally. "But you'd better not go too far."

"Bosh! Rube's slow as mud. He'll never tumble to the fact it's not a real robbery and we won't put him wise to the joke until we get back to college."

"All right, as I said before, it's not my funeral," muttered Pole, indifferently. Then to Judd who was standing some few feet off: "I say, Rube, let's you and I be piking it for the college. The rest of the bunch are goin' to hang around a bit and I'm anxious to get back."

"Suits me! So long, fellows—see you later!"

Pole and Judd started off.

"Now, gang!" cried Benz, "Wait here for me. I'll be back with the stuff and we'll take the short cut. Gee, it's dark out, ... and no moon!"

* * * * *

"This night sure is a dark one. I can hardly see the road, can you, Rube?" It was Pole speaking and he was almost feeling his way along.

"Easy. I can't see the road but I reckon I can feel it," responded Judd, walking along quite briskly. "Keep right behind me, Pole, an' ..."

"Hands up!" The voice came from the left side of the road and Judd jumped to the right.

"Don't run or I'll fire!" It was a severe warning. Judd stood perfectly still. The masked highwayman approached stealthily.

"W-what do you want?" Judd's voice trembled slightly.

"We were in the crowd this afternoon; saw you pocket the twenty-five. Hand it over!"

"We! You?" Judd looked about nervously.

"Yes, there's more of us. Come on an' show yourselves, pals!"

Sure enough! Three masked bandits came into view and stepped up threateningly. Judd started to lower his hands.

"Up they go!" mumbled the ringleader, brandishing his revolver fiercely. "Are you goin' to come across,—or do we take it from you?"

Pole stood back some three paces watching the proceedings quietly.

"Pole, what shall I do?" asked Judd, despairingly. "Help me!"

"I'm covered, Rube," replied Pole, helplessly. "Looks as if you'd have to dish up."

Judd hesitated. Finally, "It's in my vest pocket."

"That's the boy!" came a muffled voice. "Best way to do an' no blood shed. Jack, you get the coin an' I'll keep him covered. You other two guys watch that friend of his!"

Benz was the ringleader; the man referred to as Jack was Curns; the other two men were Potts and Oole.

As Curns approached to take the money he pulled the mask well down over his eyes and nose so that he could not be recognized. All went well until he placed his hand in Judd's vest pocket. Then Curns sensed trouble. He started to withdraw and step back but Judd was too quick for him. Like a flash his fist shot out and caught Curns on the point of the jaw, knocking him unconscious.

Benz was standing just two feet behind Curns. Judd reached him in one bound, struck the unloaded revolver from his hand, and crashed a bony fist into his face. Benz went down without a cry.

Judd swung about for the other two. Potts and Oole were standing not far apart, supposedly guarding Pole. Judd had acted so quickly that they were not yet prepared to protect themselves, or to put Judd wise to the intended joke. Potts tried to escape but he did not move fast enough. He was dropped where he had stood by a stinging blow behind the ear. Judd wheeled swiftly, ready for the final victim.

"Rube!" Pole found his voice. "For John's sake, let up. It's all a joke!"

Judd had already grabbed the huge Oole and was shaking him as one would a baby.

"A fine joke, I call it. Tryin' to rob a fellah!"

Oole gasped for breath. "Let go! You're killing me!"

"It's Oole, Rube, let loose!" Pole grabbed Judd by the arm and tugged at him frantically.

The rest of the fellows who had been silent onlookers now rushed out as they saw the comedy transformed into a near tragedy.

Of a sudden the truth of the whole affair came over Judd. He released his hold on Oole and sank down by the road side exhausted. Oole also sat down, rubbing his throat gingerly.

"Fellahs, you shouldn't have done this!" moaned Judd, "that's goin' too far!"

A flash light was unearthed and the three fellows examined. Curns showed signs of returning consciousness, but the other two were still dead to the world.

"The mill pond!" someone suggested, and the three injured members were carried to its bank. Judd, quite overcome with grief and surprise followed in company with Pole.

"Why didn't you tell me, Pole?" demanded Judd. "If these fellahs are bad hurt ...!"

"It was all my fault, Rube! Don't take it so much to heart," pleaded Pole, "The fellows are comin' along all right. Just plain knockouts, every one of 'em."

The appliance of water aided greatly in restoring the three bruised and battered highwaymen to their right senses.

Benz, when he came to, found only one eye ready for use. The other was swollen shut and one side of his nose felt like a small mountain. Potts groaned over a small lump behind his ear and Curns nursed a tender spot on his jaw.

"Gee!" said Potts, "You did that fast, Rube. Biff, bang, smash! and it was all over. I heard the biff and the bang but I felt the smash!"

"No more highway robberies for mine," groaned Curns.

Benz was too sore and disgusted to say a word. His latest plan had been a magnificent failure and Judd was more of a hero than ever.

"Did I say that fellow was slow?" said Benz to himself, "Well,—I take that much back. He's fast as greased lightning!"

"I'm sorry, fellahs," apologized Judd, brokenly. "I thought you were the real stuff; I hated to part with the money an',—an'—"

Here was an opening for Benz. He could not go back to college without some sort of an alibi.

"You thought it was the real stuff? Bah! Pole put you wise and you went in to do us all up. That's what you did, you big stiff!"

"I never said a word to Rube!" cried Pole, hotly. "The joke's on you if there is any and you know it! Don't put the blame on anyone else!"

"Well,—let's hush this affair up, fellows. I'd hate to have it get around college. Don't say a word about it, will you, Judd?"

"Hush this up? Nothin' doin'!" broke in Curns. "This joke is too good to keep. Gee, I won't be able to chew any food with this jaw of mine for a week! Good-night, gentlemen, it's getting late. Going home, Rube?"



CHAPTER XI

BENZ BROODS

News travels fast. Chapel Sunday morning was conspicuous by the absence of Potts and Benz. But Curns was present with a smiling face and piece of court plaster attached to his chin. He attracted crowds of students as a magnet attracts iron filings. The students clung to him until they heard the last word of the episodes of one Judd Billings and then, bent almost double with laughter, they rushed off to tell the news to someone else. Information was freely and cheerfully given. By Sunday noon everyone in college, even the professors, had learned of the exploit. Students cheered whenever Judd put in appearance and questioned him as to Dynamite or how to administer a knockout punch. To all inquiries Judd turned a deaf ear and his simple modesty was much in evidence.

Judd, of course, told Cateye everything and Cateye was quick to resent Benz's attempts at practical jokes.

"I wish I had gone along, now," said Cateye. "All this trouble might have been averted. Judd, until Benz makes up with you you'd better stick pretty close to me for there's no telling what he may do to get even. He's a mighty good fellow to his friends but when he doesn't take a liking to anyone that person had better watch out."

"I reckon I can take care of myself," Judd replied, firmly.

"I know you can!" assured Cateye, "You don't need any body guard, but my motto is, 'Keep out of trouble,' and that's why I want you to stick by me close. Savvy? Come on, let's go down to dinner."

As the two boys entered the dining room everyone at the tables arose as if by pre-arrangement, while Curns yelled: "Now fellows, let her go! Rah, rah, rah! Rah, rah, rah! Rube, Rube, Rube!"

Much good natured laughter followed and Judd took his seat awkwardly, face flushed with embarrassment.

"Do you know my sister Norah?" some student shouted.

"No, I don't, but Dyna-mite!" another replied.

More laughter followed.

Suddenly there was a second commotion. Every head turned toward the door. Benz was entering.

"Behold, the conquered hero comes!" noised Curns.

All eating stopped. Benz hesitated at the threshold, glowering defiantly up and down the tables. One eye was still badly swollen and colored a glossy black. His nose looked sadly mis-shapen. In all he presented a glorious spectacle.

"Oh you shiner!" cried some student from a far corner of the room.

This exclamation was too much. A roar of laughter went up as Benz stood hands twitching in anger and humiliation.

"Laugh, you guys, laugh!" he cried hoarsely.

"Don't worry, we will!" somebody assured him.

Benz stood the gaff a moment longer, then turned about, and leaving the fellows in an uproar, strode off to his room where he remained the rest of the day.

Two weeks more slipped quickly by, during which time the Bartlett eleven captured two more victories, one over Everett and the other over Lawton Academy, by top heavy scores. Both of these schools were supposed to have fairly strong teams and the results of their games with Bartlett came as quite a surprise in football circles. Students began to herald the present team as the greatest in the college's history, and talked of Thanksgiving day when the big game of the year was to be played against the rival college, Pennington.

Benz had held aloof from Judd, not even speaking to him when meeting face to face. Fellows still smiled when passing Benz and Benz resented those smiles. "I'll get even with Rube some how!" he thought, angrily, "He's just a rube. The lucky stiff!"

Meanwhile Cateye had written another letter to Bob describing in full Judd's escapades, and adding: "He's fast developing into some football man, Bob. You should see him punt! And tackle! Say, I never saw him miss a man yet,—he's that sure! The bigger they are the harder they fall. Judd's good enough for the varsity right now and I'm expecting Coach Phillips to give him a chance any night. Of course Benz is captain and he'll put up an awful fuss if anything like that happens. Judd, in my opinion, could make good any where you put him on that eleven to-day. He's that much better than any of us. But then, this is his first year and he is green yet, I'll admit. Wish you could come down for the big game. Your side-kick ... Cateye."

The campus clock had just struck nine one evening late in October when some one pounded on Cateye's door.

"Let 'em in, Judd," said Cateye, "before they break the door down!"

Judd was quick to respond. The door swung open. Pole and Potts stepped in.

"Welcome to our city," greeted Cateye, tossing aside a notebook upon which he had been working, "I'm always glad to entertain callers, for then I feel that I have a legitimate excuse to quit studying. What have you got there, Pole?"

"A new guitar. Isn't she a beaut? Dad sent it to me for a birthday present!" Pole sat down on the bed, struck a few chords, and started a tune. "This place hasn't been stirred by any real music this year and I decided to cut loose to-night!"

"Good heavens, Pole, why should you wish any of your discord on us? Why not rehearse in your own room?"

"I wanted an audience," replied Pole, "Isn't this ditty pretty? I composed it myself."

Potts, at this juncture, drew forth a Jews harp and added further discordant vibrations to the atmosphere.

"I can beat you both!" grinned Judd, and diving for his suitcase he unearthed a mouth organ. In another moment he was reproducing the familiar strains of, "And When I Die."

The effect was almost instantaneous. Doors swung open on the halls; students on the lower floors started coming up stairs; everything was in commotion.

"Now you've done it!" reprimanded Cateye. "We'll have the whole dorm on us in two minutes! Pole, ring off on that guitar!"

Shouts were already coming from outside.

"Have a heart!"

"What d'ya think this is, a music hall?"

"That guy with the mouth organ is a coward. No one would dare make a noise like that in public!"

"Let us in before we rip the panels out!"

"Shall we let 'em in?" Pole asked, grinning.

"I suppose we'll have to," Cateye muttered, "Or suffer the consequences."

Pole slipped the bolt and the fellows packed the room.

"Just as I surmised!" cried Oole, the first man in. "Pole and Potts, the inseparable noise makers! As a penalty I demand a duet!"

"You bet! A duet!" voiced the rest.

"What'll it be?" Pole queried, with an important air, "I can play anything you should choose to name, gentlemen."

"Let's hear you render, The Last Rose of Summer."

"In how many pieces do you wish it rendered?" asked Potts sweetly, striking the key on his Jews harp.

"Makes no difference,—just so it's rendered."

Pole and Potts now assumed a serious air, eyed each other soberly, and prepared to play.

"One, two, three! One, two, three! One, two, three! Play!" cried Pole, waving his arms wildly. Potts started in but missed the key by at least three notes. Pole gave Potts a handicap, then started in to catch up. The discord was very displeasing.

"Kill it!"

"That's the last rose of summer that I want to hear!"

"Enough!"

Potts was forced to stop through laughing, but Pole kept on until strong hands compelled him to cease.

"It's a pity you fellows can't appreciate real music," pouted Pole, "I'm severely wounded. I shall never play for you again."

"Thank heaven!" breathed someone, evidently much relieved.

"Who was that we heard tooting the mouth organ?" demanded Johnson, editor of the Bartlett College Weekly.

"Rube's the guilty man," betrayed Pole, anxious to have another share his sorrows. "If they ask you to play, Rube, don't do it! I wouldn't play before such an unappreciative audience."

"Come on, Rube, give us some music!"

"No, I reckon I've made noise enough for one evening," replied Judd, shyly.

"Just one tune, please!"

Judd looked at Cateye questioningly.

"Go ahead," grinned Cateye, "Drive 'em out, Judd!"

Judd picked up the mouth organ.

"What'll I play?"

"Oh,—anything!"

"That's pretty broad. S'posin' I impersonate a steam calliope in a circus?"

"Impersonate, Judd! Great snakes, don't try to impersonate one of those things! The distortion would be so stupendous that you'd never look the same again!"

"I reckon I'll imitate one, then," responded Judd, raising the mouth organ to his lips.

The moment he started playing, a hush came over the bunch. The imitation was so perfect that every fellow could imagine again the tail end of a gaudy circus parade and the steaming calliope.

When Judd finished he was greeted with a round of applause. Cries of, "More! More!" came from every throat.

Judd seemed to catch the spirit of it all and to forget his embarrassment. He began to play simple home melodies and popular songs which gripped at the heart strings of every fellow present. Several times the fellows started in and sang while Judd furnished the accompaniments. At last, Judd, thinking that he had played long enough, struck up the tune, "Good-night, ladies." The fellows took the hint and departed, promising to come again and thanking Judd for his entertainment.

"Well, Judd," said Cateye, quietly, "I'm proud of you tonight. You made some hit with the bunch!"

"Did I?"

"I should say you did! I'd give anything to have the guys rave over me like they did over you and your playing."

"Honest?"

"Sure thing! How did you ever learn to play the mouth organ so well? I never imagined that instrument could produce such pretty music!"

"I can't remember when I learned. Seems as if I always knew how," replied Judd, mightily pleased.

"Your popularity is assured now!" went on Cateye, "You'll have a crowd in here every night."

"Not much!" sniffed Judd, "I'm no orchestra. They'll be lucky if they hear another note for a week!"

"Well, let's go to bed," yawned Cateye, sleepily, breaking off conversation. "I don't know when I've been so tired. For heaven's sake don't snore to-night! I want to snooze."

"Trust me, pal," grinned Judd, "I'm not due to snore for two nights yet. You must remember, I'm runnin' on a fixed schedule."

Long after Judd's steady breathing could be heard Cateye lay awake, thinking. He had tried to go to sleep at first but found sleep, for a time at least, impossible.

"Good old Judd," Cateye mused to himself, "I'm getting so I like you better every day. You may be awkward; you may be a rube as they say; but you're a great scout just the same. Bob,..." (Here he addressed his friend as though he were present), "That was the best thing you ever did when you sent your green kid brother down to me. You knew how I could help him if I would and you knew what an inspiration he would be to me. This is a great old world and a great old college. What would life be without real friendship? What would one do without,—" but musing, he dropped off into the land of dreams.

* * * * *

The campus clock had tolled twelve very methodically and stopped for an hour's rest. Cateye was still sleeping soundly but for some unaccountable reason he was bothered with bad dreams. It seemed now as if Judd had turned into a raving maniac, had grasped him by the throat and was slowly, cruelly, choking him to death. Try as he might Cateye could not shake that death grip off. Judd was grinning crazily and saying: "That's one of my failin's; I always do grip too hard!" Cateye's breath began to come in short, quick gasps. He tried his best to cry out, to beg Judd to release him, but though his lips moved no sound came forth. Cateye tried to get free, but failed, and lost consciousness altogether.

Judd was also troubled in his sleep but his dreams were of a different nature. It seemed to him as if all the flies in the Universe were buzzing and crawling about on his face. They crept into his eyes and mouth and even ventured up his nose. The more Judd fought to keep them off the more numerous they became. Finally one big fly succeeded in gaining entrance to Judd's mouth and buzzed down into his throat, almost choking him. He coughed and sat bolt upright. It was hard for him to think, to act, to breathe. Why! The room was full of smoke! This discovery brought Judd to full consciousness with a jolt. He bounded to his feet and rushed over to Cateye's bed.

"Cateye! Cateye! Wake up! The dorm's on fire! Quick!"

No answer.

"Cateye!"

The smoke was stifling. There was no time to waste. Judd reached over and shook Cateye roughly. This not producing the desired affect he pulled Cateye out of bed and dragged him to the door, shouting, "Fire!" as loud as he could. From the lower floor his cries were answered and a voice here and there took up the cry.

Judd opened the door into the hall but was met by such a blast of hot, suffocating smoke that he quickly shut it again. What was to be done? Cateye was unconscious; the hallway was black with smoke. The window! Judd rushed over to it and looked down. But the dorm was three stories high and they were upon the third story! Judd was baffled for a moment, then, diving under his bed he pulled forth a coil of knotted rope, one end of which was tied to a ring in the floor, provided for fellows in every room, in case of just such an emergency. He quickly made a noose of the free end, passed this around under Cateye's arm pits, and pushing him out the window, lowered him to the ground.

Half-clad figures were already dashing across the campus. At Judd's lusty hail some one took care of Cateye. Satisfied that his room-mate was now free from danger Judd turned about to see what else he could do. The smoke was steadily growing thicker.

He grabbed a towel, saturated it by thrusting it in a pitcher of water on the dresser, and wrapped it about his face; then he turned and rushed into the hall. At the further end, near the stairs, a little line of red flame sputtered. Judd started back, remembering the coil of hose at the other end of the hall, and wondering why none of the students had thought to use it before. But he stumbled across a body lying in the doorway of the room adjoining Cateye's. He stooped and rolled the body over so that he could see the face. "Pole!" he gasped. Stepping over Pole's inert form and into the room, Judd saw Potts lying in a sitting posture, half-dressed, against the side of his bed!

Yells came from the floor below. "Go out the window, guys! We can't reach you from below! What's the matter up there? Get a move on!"

Judd secured the rope from under Potts' bed, made another noose and let Potts gently out the window. He looked out on the campus. A great crowd of students had now collected and more were coming from every direction. Some had lanterns.

"Tie one of those lanterns on and send it up!" shouted Judd, hoarsely.

"Where are all the fellows? There's only four accounted for! Ten more up there!" inquired an anxious voice from below.

"Don't know!" responded Judd, pulling up the rope and taking off the lantern. "I'm lettin' 'em down as soon as I find 'em!"

Pole's long, lean form was the next one to slip gracefully over the window sill to safety.

Then Judd rushed into the hall, lantern in hand. The line of fire had increased into a blaze. Two doors down, Reynolds, a sophomore, dashed into the hall, clad in pajamas.

"Help!" he cried, wild-eyed. "Max is asleep! I can't waken him. Hurry, somebody, quick!"

"Make a noose of your rope an' let him out the window!" directed Judd, "then join me!"

Reynolds disappeared within his room.

Judd hurried to the end of the hall, uncoiled the hose, and turned on the water. At first a feeble stream came forth, but the flow of water steadily increased until it gushed out.

Another student, almost choked with smoke, darted into the hall.

"This is a fright!" he cried, on seeing Judd. "Ned is suffocated and I'm almost done for!"

At this moment, Reynolds, having disposed of his room-mate, dashed across the hall.

"Here, I'll help you!" he called. "We'll go to every room and clear the fellows out!"

"That's the way to do it!" shouted Judd, encouragingly. "I'll stay here an' fight this fire!"

Dragging the hose down the hall, wetting everything before him as he went, Judd soon neared the source of the fire. It seemed to be centered about the head of the stairs. The first room on the right at the top of the stairs had been used as a store-room. Its door was almost burnt away and inside it was a mass of flames.

A voice called up from the second floor.

"Thank God, somebody had brains enough to use the hose at last! We're keeping the fire from breaking through but the building is full of smoke. Where is the blaze, in the store-room?"

"Yep!" replied Judd, his eyes smarting from the films of smoke and flying cinders.

"Everybody out up there?"

"Gettin' 'em out!" Judd did not feel like talking much.

"Good! Keep the water on that blaze and we'll have the fire out in about twenty minutes. More smoke than anything else!"

Reynolds and McCabe, the fellow he had helped, came running up to Judd.

"They're all out!" cried McCabe. "Some job, though—most everyone suffocated. I never had such hard work getting awake in all my life!"

"Fetch the lantern," ordered Judd, pushing ahead into the store-room, having extinguished the fire about the head of the stairs.

The forceful stream of water soon produced a telling effect on the flames. There was a loud hissing noise and white clouds of steam. Then the last tongue of flame slowly died out and all was darkness, save for the light shed by the lantern.

"Hurrah, we're heroes!" grinned McCabe.

The smoke was still treacherously thick. Neither Judd nor Reynolds saw any humor in McCabe's exclamation at that moment. Judd continued to pour water into the charred room. Some students at the second floor landing ventured up cautiously.

"Smudge over?" asked one.

"Mostly!" replied Judd.

"That sure was a bad one for so little a fire. Four of the nine fellows who were suffocated haven't come to yet!"

"How's Cateye?" demanded Judd.

"He's one of 'em!" was the reply.

"Here,—somebody, take this hose! Quick! I'm a goin' down stairs," cried Judd, "This smoke's too much for me! ... Say, fellows,—where is Cateye now?"

"They took him to dorm number two!"

Judd waited only long enough to pull a pair of trousers on over his nightshirt, and to push his big feet into a pair of slippers. He forced his way through eager crowds of questioners and elbowed many fellows from his path.

The four unconscious men were laid out upon cots, drawn up in the reading room. Doctor Bray, college physician, and several students, were busy working over them. A great crowd stood in front of the dormitory, not allowed to enter.

Judd fought his way through the crowd and stepped in at the door, his face black from smoke and the upper portion of his nightshirt drenched. Oole halted him.

"You can't go in there!"

Cries of, "Hold him!" "What do you think you are?" "Keep him out!" came from the crowd.

"Cateye,—he's my room-mate!" said Judd, simply, and pushed Oole aside as though he were a mere toy. Oole, remembering how narrowly he escaped fate at the powerful hands of Judd once before, offered no resistance.

"Come on! You let him in. Let us in!" some student shouted.

"Sure! He's no better than any of us!"

"Shut up, you guys!" bellowed Oole. "Cateye's in there and he's Rube's room-mate! Guess he has a right to go in."

"I should say he has!" echoed Reynolds, coming up. "That guy put out the fire and saved some lives besides!"

"What! Rube put out the fire?"

"Sure he did! There were only five of us on the third floor who weren't suffocated. That was the nastiest, thickest smoke I ever got into! Benz and Mann both woke up and went out the window after yelling fire."

"Benz and Mann! The yellow,—" began somebody, but stopped short when he saw the two fellows standing shamefacedly in the crowd.

"Rube let down Cateye, Potts, and Pole, and then got out the hose," went on Reynolds, the crowd listening eagerly. "About this time I woke up and when I got the first whiff of smoke I lost my head. Rube saw me, told me what to do, and McCabe and I lowered all the other fellows while Rube fought the fire. Some of the guys were half awake but so stupid that they didn't know what they were doing so we hoisted them out the window anyhow. Thanks to Rube the dorm is saved and I guess the fellows will be none the worse for their experiences."

"Bravo!"

"Good work, all of you!"

"Rube is some boy!"

Benz turned about and walked away. "Rube again!" he muttered, angrily. "The lucky stiff!"

* * * * *

Cateye came to with a start, looked about and saw Judd.

"For the love of mud, Judd, never choke me like that again. Why,—you almost killed me!"

"Choke you, Cateye? I never choked you!" protested Judd, "You were in a fire, pal, an' the only thing I did was to shove you out the window."

"Fire! Where? When?" Cateye sat up, then laid back again, weakly.

"About three quarters of an hour ago. A little smudge at the dorm. You were suffocated,—"

"So you didn't choke me after all," said Cateye, much relieved, feeling of his throat. "My, that was an awful dream! Gee! I smell like a piece of smoked ham! Say, who are those guys?" indicating the fellows on the other cots, over whom Doctor Bray was still working.

"Pole, Potts, and Lawton," replied the doctor, "Your room and theirs was the nearest to the fire and you got the direct benefit of the smoke. They're beginning to come around though. Lucky some of you weren't killed!"

"Judd, you must have saved my life!" breathed Cateye.

"He undoubtedly did!" replied Doctor Bray, "Another five minutes would have ended you four fellows!"

Cateye held out his hand, gratefully. Judd took it, grinning sheepishly.

"Good old scout!" said Cateye, softly. "Be careful, ... that grip of yours ...!"



CHAPTER XII

ONE KIND OF LOYALTY

Two good carpenters employed for two whole days soon righted the damage done by the blaze. Pole, when he was able to navigate again and had viewed the interior of the badly charred storeroom, declared, "Looks to me like matches and mice!" This seemed to be the concensus of opinion among the fellows as to the origin of the fire. The room had been filled with spare pieces of furniture, some of which were packed in excelsior. There was also a great quantity of extra bedding in the room. This accounted for the dense smoke which almost proved fatal to a number of fellows.

Judd was now quite an object of interest, and lauded wherever he went, as a hero. He, however, disliked publicity and oftentimes, when out walking, would make many detours to avoid encountering fellows whom he knew would lavish compliments upon him. Pole and Potts became steadfast friends of Judd's since that eventful night. But the gulf between Judd and Benz had noticeably widened. Judd was fast gaining such recognition on the second team as a star that it seemed probable he might be shifted to the varsity any day. Cateye had earnestly hoped that his room-mate might be given a chance. Just one chance! But it seemed as if that chance would never come.

One night, it was now almost November, Cateye was just returning to the locker room after football practice, when he came up to Coach Phillips and Benz on the way.

Something that Benz was saying caused Cateye to almost stop in his tracks. His pace slackened. He lagged behind within hearing distance.

"Yes, I know Judd is pretty fair,—but I'd still sort of hate to trust him in a game. Of course, if you think he's better than Walker, why,—"

"Well,—Walker hasn't shown up exceptionally good lately and I'm thinking of making a shift soon," replied the coach.

"Walker has complained of being sick this week," bluffed Benz, lamely. "He'll be o.k. in a couple of days. Don't worry."

Cateye increased his steps and hastened past.

"Benz!" cried Cateye, to himself, "You whiner! The only way you could get even with a man was to stab him in the back! I really thought you were loyal to your college,—to the team."

The following Saturday, November fifth, Bartlett College met and defeated the Wynham Medical School, 13 to 6, thus keeping up their unbroken string of victories. But the victory was a dear one. Cateye, at left guard, suffered a badly wrenched knee, and Pole, at right end, nursed a sprained ankle. These men would be out of the game for at least a week. Judd, who had come to admire the brilliant work of Cateye, both on offense and defense, felt very bad over his injury.

"You never miss the water till the well runs dry," Judd told Cateye, the night after the game. "They'll appreciate what a darn good guard you've been now, when they try to find some one to fill your shoes!"

"Bosh! There's plenty of fellows just as good as I am, Judd, and better!" laughed Cateye, punching Judd with a crutch. "There's a guy by the name of Mister Billings, for instance, who,—"

"Do you suppose I'll git a chance now?" demanded Judd.

"Can't help but get a chance! They've got to put you in. No one else good enough!"

"Would they be putting me in your position?"

"Most likely."

"I won't do it!"

"Won't do what?"

"I won't play your position!"

"Nonsense, Judd. You'll play wherever Coach Phillips puts you."

"Maybe I will, but then, maybe I won't!"

"Why not?"

"I don't want your position. I'll quit football first. That settles it!"

"Judd, don't talk that way. It's for the team. Don't mind me. I'm out of it. I want you to show people how good you really are. I'd like to write and tell Bob,—"

"Nothin' doin'! If they try to put Judd Billings in your position he'll hand in his resignation."

* * * * *

Cateye was right. Coach Phillips was forced to give Judd a chance. The next practice had not gone five minutes before Phillips called to Judd. "Billings, come over here. I want you to fill in at left guard on the varsity."

"I'm sorry, sir, but can't you put me in some other position?"

"I'm afraid that is impossible, Billings. Tell me, what is your reason for not wishing to play left guard?"

Judd was silent.

Coach Phillips saw a strange light in the boy's eyes. He stepped over, laid a friendly hand on Judd's rugged shoulder.

"Well?"

"... It's like this," Judd began, softly, "That's Cateye's position. He,—he's the best friend I've got. The fellows think I'm just a rube, but I—I appreciate a pal like Cateye. I ... I'd give my life for him any day,—but take his position,—well—I just can't, sir!"