apparently of its own volition. Sydney turned quickly and saw Mills's
blue eyes twinkling down at him.

"Did I surprise you?" laughed the coach.

"Yes, I thought my wheel had suddenly turned into an automobile."

"Hard work for you, I'm afraid. You should have let me send a trap for
you," said Mills. "Never mind those handles. Put your hands in your
pockets and I'll get you there in no time. What a beast of a day,
isn't it?"

"Y--yes," answered Sydney, "I suppose it is. But I rather like it."

"Like it? Great Scott! Why?"

"Well, the mist feels good on your face, don't you think so? And the
trees down there along the railroad look so gray and soft. I don't know,
but there's something about this sort of a day that makes me feel good."

"Well, every one to his taste," Mills replied. "By the way, here's
something I cut out of the Robinson Argus; thought you'd like to see
it." He drew a clipping from a pocketbook and gave it to Sydney, who,
shielding it from the wet, read as follows:

Erskine, we hear, is crowing over a wonderful new play which
she thinks she has invented, and with which she expects to
get even for what happened last year. We have not seen the
new marvel, of course, but we understand that it is called a
"close formation." It is safe to say that it is an old play
revamped by Erskine's head coach, Mills. Last year Mills
discovered a form of guards-back which was heralded to the
four corners of the earth as the greatest play ever seen.
What happened to it is still within memory. Consequently we
are not greatly alarmed over the latest production of his
fertile brain. Robinson can, we think, find a means of
solving any puzzle that Erskine can put together.

"They're rather hard on you," laughed Sydney as he returned the
clipping.

"I can stand it. I'm glad they haven't discovered that we are busy with
a defense for their tackle-tandem. If we can keep that a secret for a
few days longer I shall be satisfied."

"I do hope it will come up to expectations," said Sydney doubtfully.
"Now that the final test is drawing near I'm beginning to fear that
maybe we--maybe we're too hopeful."

"I know," answered Mills. "It's always that way. When I first began
coaching I used to get into a regular blue funk every year just before
the big game; used to think that everything was going wrong, and was
firmly convinced until the whistle sounded that we wer