ink it looks like
rather a jolly sort of place; awfully pretty, you know,
and--er--historic."

"Yes, it is pretty; historic too; and it's the finest young college in
the country, bar none," answered Devoe. "You'll like it when you get
used to it. I like it so well I wish I wasn't going to leave it in the
spring. Very cozy quarters you have here." He looked about the study.

"They'll do," answered Neil modestly. "Of course we couldn't get rooms
in the Yard, and we liked this as well as anything we saw outside. The
view's rather good from the windows."

"Yes, I know; you have the common and pretty much the whole college in
sight; it is good." Devoe brought his gaze back and fixed it on Neil.
"You played left half, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"What's your weight?"

"I haven't weighed this summer," answered Neil. "In the spring I was a
hundred and sixty-two."

"Good. We need some heavy backs. How about you, Gale?"

"About a hundred and sixty."

"Of course I haven't seen the new material yet," continued Devoe, "but
the last year's men we have are a bit light, take them all around.
That's what beat us, you see; Robinson had an unusually heavy line and
rather heavy backs. They plowed through us without trouble."

Neil studied the football captain with some interest. He saw a tall and
fairly heavy youth, with well-set head and broad shoulders. He looked
quite as fast on his feet as rumor credited him with being, and his dark
eyes, sharp and steady in their regard, suggested both courage and
ability to lead. His other features were strong, the nose a trifle
heavy, the mouth usually unsmiling, the chin determined, and the
forehead, set off by carefully brushed dark-brown hair, high and broad.
After the first few moments of conversation Devoe devoted his attention
principally to Neil, questioning him regarding Gardiner's coaching
methods, about Neil's experience on the gridiron, as to what studies he
was taking up. Occasionally he included Paul in the conversation, but
that youth discovered, with surprise and chagrin, that he was apparently
of much less interest to Devoe than was Neil. After a while he dropped
out of the talk altogether, save when directly appealed to, and sat
silent with an expression of elaborate unconcern. At the end of half an
hour Devoe arose.

"I must be getting on," he announced. "I'm glad we've had this talk, and
I hope you'll both come over some evening and call on me; I'm in Morris,
No. 8. We've