es in one end of the car, and thus passing the time away by
entering into a game they were accustomed to play on trips. One of the
Carlisle players would stand in the center of the aisle and some fifteen
or so men would group about him, in and about and on top of the seats.
This central figure would bend over and close his eyes. Then some one
from the crowd would reach over and spank the crouching Indian a
terrific blow, hastily drawing back his hand. Then the Indian who had
received the blow would straighten up and try, by the expression of
guilt on the face of the one who had delivered the blow, to find his
man. Their faces were a study, yet nearly every time the right man was
detected.

Who is there in football who will ever forget the Indian team, their red
blankets and all that was typical of them; the yells that the crowds
gave as the Indians appeared. They seemed always to be fit. They were
full of spirit and anxious to clash with their opponents.

[Illustration: THE GREATEST INDIAN OF THEM ALL]

I recall an incident in a Princeton-Carlisle game, when the game was
being fiercely waged. Miller, the great Indian halfback, had scored a
touchdown, after a long run. It was not long after this that a Princeton
player was injured. Maybe the play was being slowed up a little. Anyway,
time was taken out. One of the Indians seemed to sense the situation.
The Princeton players were lying on the ground while the Carlisle men
were prancing about eager to resume the fray, when one of the Indians
remarked:

"White man play for wind. Indian play football."

In 1915 Warner went to the University of Pittsburgh. Here he has already
begun to duplicate former successes. Cruikshank, Peck, and Wagner are
three of Pittsburgh's many stars. Probably the greatest football player
that Warner ever developed at the Carlisle Indian School was Jim Thorpe,
whose picture appears on the opposite page. Unhappy the end, and not
infrequently the back, who had to face this versatile player. Thorpe was
a raider.

Billy Bull

Billy Bull of Yale is one of the old heroes who has kept in very close
touch with the game. He has been a valuable coach at Yale and the Elis'
kicking game is left entirely in his hands. He is an enthusiastic
believer in the game. Immediately after leaving New Haven in 1889 he
started to coach and since that time he has not missed a year. Years ago
he inaugurated a routine system of coaching for the various styles of
kic