aragon was and is Frank Hinkey and
the depth of esteem in which the former Cornell star held Hinkey is well
exemplified in the following incident, which occurred on the Black
Diamond Express, Eastbound, as it was passing through Tonawanda, New
York. Beacham had been dozing, but awoke in time to catch a glimpse of
the signboard as the train flashed by. Leaning slightly forward he
tapped a drummer upon the shoulder. The salesman turned around. "Take
off your hat," came the command. "Why?" the salesman began. "Take off
your hat," repeated Beacham. The man did so. "Thank you; now put it on,"
came the command. The drummer summing up courage, faced Beacham and
said, "Now will you kindly tell me why you asked me to do this?" Joe
smiled with the satisfied feeling of an act well performed and said: "I
told you to lift your hat because we are passing through the town where
Frank Hinkey was born."

Later, in the smoking room, Joe heard the drummer discussing the
incident with a crowd of fellow salesmen, and he said, concluding, "What
I'd like to know is who in hell is Frank Hinkey?"

And late that evening when the train arrived in New York Joe Beacham and
the traveling man had become the best of friends. In parting, Joe said:
"If there's anything I haven't told you, I'll write you about it."

Sandy Hunt, a famous Cornell guard and captain, says:

"Here is one on Bill Hollenback, the last year he played for
Pennsylvania against Cornell. Bill went into the game, thoroughly fit,
but Mike Murphy, then training the team, was worried lest he be injured.
In an early scrimmage Bill's ear was nearly ripped off. Blood flowed and
Mike left the side lines to aid. Mike was waved away by Bill. 'It's
nothing but a scratch, Mike, let me get back in the game.' Play was
resumed. Following a scrimmage, Mike saw Bill rolling on the ground in
agony. 'His ankle is gone,' quoth Mike, as he ran out to the field.
Leaning over Bill, Mike said: 'Is it your ankle, or knee, Bill?' Bill,
writhing in agony, gasped:

"'No; somebody stepped on my corn.'"

Hardwick has this to tell of the days when he coached Annapolis:

"One afternoon at Annapolis, the Varsity were playing a practice game
and were not playing to form, or better, possibly, they were not playing
as the coaches had reason to hope. There was an indifference in their
play and a lack of snap and drive in their work that roused Head Coach
Ingram's fighting blood. Incidentally, Ingram is a fighter