it the biggest you ever gave"--they could respond with only
a hoarse croak.

Finally the hymn was sung--at least, the boys tried loyally to sing
it--and they stood silent and almost reverent as the team filed out of
the gymnasium.

Hugh walked back to Surrey Hall with several men. No one said a word
except a quiet good night as they parted. Carl was in the room when he
arrived. He sank into a chair and was silent for a few minutes.

Finally he said in a happy whisper, "Wasn't it wonderful, Carl?"

"Un-huh. Damn good."

"Gosh, I hope we win. We've _got_ to!"

Carl looked up, his cheeks redder than usual, his eyes glittering. "God,
yes!" he breathed piously.

CHAPTER X

The football season lasted from the first of October to the latter part
of November, and during those weeks little was talked about, or even
thought about, on the campus but football. There were undergraduates who
knew the personnel of virtually every football team in the country, the
teams that had played against each other, their relative merits, the
various scores, the outstanding players of each position. Half the
students at Sanford regularly made out "All American" teams, and each
man was more than willing to debate the quality of his team against that
of any other. Night after night the students gathered in groups in
dormitory rooms and fraternity houses, discussing football, football,
football; even religion and sex, the favorite topics for "bull
sessions," could not compete with football, especially when some one
mentioned Raleigh College. Raleigh was Sanford's ancient rival; to
defeat her was of cosmic importance.

There was a game every Saturday. About half the time the team played at
home; the other games were played on the rivals' fields. No matter how
far away the team traveled, the college traveled with it. The men who
had the necessary money went by train; a few owned automobiles: but most
of the undergraduates had neither an automobile nor money for train
fare. They "bummed" their way. Some of them emulated professional
tramps, and "rode the beams," but most of them started out walking,
trusting that kind-hearted motorists would pick them up and carry them
at least part way to their destination. Although the distances were
sometimes great, and although many motorists are not kind, there is no
record of any man who ever started for a game not arriving in time for
the referee's first whistle. Somehow, by hook or by crook-