ampaign in your hands and Cowan's, Neil," he said. "You
know several fellows here--there's Wallace and Knowles and Jones.
They're not freshmen, but they can give you introductions. Knowles is a
St. Agnes man and there are lots of St. Agnes fellows in our class."

"I think you're making a mistake," answered Neil soberly, "and I wish
you'd give it up. Livingston's got lots of supporters, and he's had his
campaign under way for a week. If you're defeated I think it'll hurt
you; fellows don't like defeated candidates when--when they're
self-appointed candidates."

"Oh, of course, if you don't want to help," cried Paul, with a trace of
anger in his voice, "I guess we can get on without you."

"I'm sure you won't desert your chum, Fletcher," said Cowan. "And I
think you're all wrong about defeated candidates. If a fellow makes a
good fight and is worsted no fellow that isn't a cad does other than
honor him."

"Well, if you've made up your mind, Paul," answered Neil reluctantly,
"of course I'll do all I can if Foster will let me out of my promise
to him."

"Oh, hang Foster!" cried Cowan. "He's a little fool!"

"Is he?" asked Neil innocently. "I hadn't noticed it. Well, as I say,
I'll do all I can. And I'll begin now by going over to see him."

"That's the boy," said Paul. "Tell Foster there's a dark horse in the
field."

"And tell him I say the dark horse will win," added Cowan.

Neil smiled back politely from the doorway.

"I don't think I'd better mention your name, Mr. Cowan." He closed the
door behind him, leaving Cowan much puzzled as to the meaning of the
last remark, and sought No. 12 McLean. He found the varsity quarter-back
writing a letter by means of a small typewriter, his brow heavily
creased with scowls and his feet kicking exasperatedly at the legs of
his chair.

"Hello," was Foster's greeting. "Come in. And, I say, just look around
on the floor there, will you, and see if you can find an L."

"Find what?" asked Neil, searching the carpet with his gaze.

"An L. There was one on this pesky machine a while ago, but
I--can't--find--Ah, here it is! 'L-O-V-I-N-G-L-Y, T-E-D'! There, that's
done. I bought this idiotic thing because some one said you could write
letters on it in half the time it takes with a pen. Well, I began this
letter last night, and I guess I've spent fully two hours on it
altogether. For two cents I'd pitch it out the window!" He pushed back
his chair and glared vindictively at the