wn remaining and time nearly up, a try-at-goal was
the only course left, and Rollins, standing squarely on the thirty-yard
line, drop-kicked a scanty victory.

In some ways that contest was disappointing, in others encouraging.
Team-play was more in evidence than in any previous game and the
maroon-and-grey backfield had performed prodigiously. And the plays had,
as a general thing, gone off like clock-work. But there were weak places
in the line still. Pryme, at right guard, had proved an easy victim for
the enemy and the same was true, in a lesser degree, of Harry Walton, on
the other side of centre. And Crewe, at right tackle, had allowed
himself to be boxed time after time. It might be said for Crewe,
however, that today he was playing opposite an opponent who was more
than clever. But the way in which Chambers had torn holes in Brimfield's
first defence promised poorly for next Saturday and the spectators went
away from the field feeling a bit less sanguine than a week before. "No
team that is weak at both guard positions can hope to win," was the
general verdict, and it was fully realised that Claflin's backs were
better than Chambers's. For a day or two there was much talk of a
petition to the faculty asking for the reinstatement of Tom Hall, but it
progressed no further than talk. Josh, it was known, was not the kind to
reverse his decision for any reason they could present.

And yet, although the weekly faculty conference on Monday night had no
written petition to consider, the subject of Tom's reinstatement did
come before it and in a totally unprecedented manner.

CHAPTER XVIII

"GOOD-BYE, TIMMY!"

TIM found a dejected and most unsatisfactory chum when he got back to
the room after the Chambers game that Saturday afternoon. All of Tim's
demands for an explanation of the whole puzzling affair met only with
evasion. Don was not only uncommunicative, but a trifle short-tempered,
a condition quite unusual for him. All Tim could get from him was that
he "felt perfectly punk" and wasn't going to try to change Mr. Robey's
decision.

"I'm through," he said. "I don't blame Robey a bit. I'm no use on the
team as I am. He'd be foolish to bother with me."

"Well, all I can say," returned Tim, with a sigh of exasperation, "is
that the whole thing is mighty funny. I guess there's more to it than
you're telling. You look like thirty cents, all right enough, but I'll
wager anything you like that you could go