ith immense relief the team accepted this solution of the difficulty.
But gloom still covered Sam's face. "He's only been here two weeks," he
said, "and you know darn well the rule calls for four."

"Oh, hang it!" said Bottles, "he's going to be a resident all right.
He's a real resident right now, and anyway, they won't know anything
about it."

"Oh, cut it out," said Sam, suddenly flaring into wrath. "You know we
can't do that sort of thing. It ain't the game and we ain't goin' to do
it."

"What ain't the game?" enquired Larry, who had come upon the anxious and
downcast group.

Farwell told him the calamitous news and explained the problem under
discussion. "We'd play Sykes, only he hasn't been here a month yet, and
Sam won't stand for it," he said.

"Of course Sam won't stand for it, and the Captain is right," said
Larry. "Is there nobody else, Sam?" Sam shook his head despondently.
"Would I be any good, Sam? I am not keen about it, but if you think I
could take Cassap's place on left wing, he could take goal."

Sam brightened up a little. "Guess we can't do no better," he said
doubtfully. "I mean," he added in answer to the shout of laughter
from the team--"Aw, shut up, can that cackle. We know the Master hates
football an' this is goin' to be a real fightin' game. He'll get all
knocked about an' I don't want that. You know he'll be takin' all kinds
of chances."

"Oh, quit, Sam. I am in pretty good shape," said Larry. "They can't kill
me. That's the best I can do anyway, so let's get to them."

The situation was sufficiently gloomy to stir Joe to his supremest
efforts and to kindle Sam's spirit to a blazing flame. "We don't need
Sykes nor nobody else," he shouted to his men as they moved on to the
field. "They can wear their boots out on that defence line of ours an'
be derned to 'em. An', Bottles, you got to play the game of your life
to-day. None of your fancy embroidery, just plain knittin'. Every feller
on the ball an' every feller play to his man. There'll be a lot of
females hangin' around, but we don't want any frills for the girls to
admire. But all at it an' all the time." Sam's little red eyes glowed
with even a more fiery hue than usual; his rat-like face assumed its
most belligerent aspect.

Before the match Larry took the Eagle Hill captain, a young Englishman
who had been trying for ten years to make a living on a ranch far up
among the foothills and was only beginning to succeed, to his mot