-and it was
often by crook--the boys got there, and, what is more astonishing, they
got back. On Monday morning at 8:45 they were in chapel, usually worn
and tired, it is true, ready to bluff their way through the day's
assignments, and damning any instructor who was heartless enough to give
them a quiz. Some of them were worn out from really harsh traveling
experiences; some of them had more exciting adventures to relate behind
closed doors to selected groups of confidants.

Football! Nothing else mattered. And as the weeks passed, the excitement
grew, especially as the day drew near for the Raleigh game, which this
year was to be played on the Sanford field. What were Sanford's chances?
Would Harry Slade, Sanford's great half-back, make All American? "Damn
it to hell, he ought to. It'll be a stinkin' shame if he don't." Would
Raleigh's line be able to stop Slade's end runs? Slade! Slade! He was
the team, the hope and adoration of the whole college.

Three days before the "big game" the alumni began to pour into town,
most of them fairly recent graduates, but many of them gray-haired men
who boasted that they hadn't missed a Sanford-Raleigh game in thirty
years. Hundreds of alumni arrived, filling the two hotels to capacity
and overrunning the fraternity houses, the students doubling up or
seeking hospitality from a friend in a dormitory.

In the little room in the rear of the Sanford Pool and Billiard Parlors
there was almost continual excitement. Jim McCarty, the proprietor, a
big, jovial, red-faced man whom all the students called Mac, was the
official stake-holder for the college. Bets for any amount could be
placed with him. Money from Raleigh flowed into his pudgy hands, and he
placed it at the odds offered with eager Sanford takers. By the day of
the game his safe held thousands of dollars, most of it wagered at five
to three, Raleigh offering odds. There was hardly an alumnus who did not
prove his loyalty to Sanford by visiting Mac's back room and putting
down a few greenbacks, at least. Some were more loyal than others; the
most loyal placed a thousand dollars--at five to two.

There was rain for two days before the game, but on Friday night the
clouds broke. A full moon seemed to shine them away, and the whole
campus rejoiced with great enthusiasm. Most of the alumni got drunk to
show their deep appreciation to the moon, and many of the undergraduates
followed the example set by their elders.

All Friday