formations; and the Blue would
never forget how, after a series of line plunging, bone-breaking rushes,
he had dragged himself over the enemy's goal line with the whole frantic
eleven piled on him, while the Blue stands went stark raving mad over
the prowess of their champion. That famous goal had won him an
undisputed place on the All-American team for that year and the
captaincy of his own team the following season.

His reputation clung to him after he had graduated, and even among his
business associates he was commonly and affectionately referred to as
"Bull." The same qualities of courage and tenacity that had marked his
student days had followed him into the broader arena of business life,
and he had speedily become prosperous. But the tug of the old college
had drawn him back for more or less time every year to help "lick the
cubs into shape" and renew the memories of the past. This year the call
had been particularly insistent, owing to two bad seasons in succession,
when the Blues had been forced to lower their colors to their exulting
rivals who had so many defeats to avenge. A hurry call had gone out for
the very best man available to stop the "tobogganing" of the team; and
as this by universal consent was "Bull" Hendricks, he had, at a great
sacrifice, laid aside his personal interests and come to the rescue.

A few days on the ground had been sufficient to show him that he was "up
against it." A herculean task awaited him. The material he had to work
with was none too good. The line was lacking in "beef" and the backs in
speed. There were exceptions, notably at center and full and quarter;
and here his falcon eye detected the stuff of which stars are made. But
it takes eleven men to make a team and no individual brilliancy can
atone for a lack of combination work. "A chain is no stronger than its
weakest link," and, in a modified sense, a team is no stronger than its
weakest player. That one weaker player would be unerringly "sized up" by
the sharp-eyed scouts of the opposition and they would plunge against
him like a battering ram.

Usually, at the beginning of the fall season, there would be an influx
of promising candidates from the leading academies and preparatory
schools. Fellows who had starred at Andover and Exeter and
Lawrenceville, some of them giants in bulk or racehorses in speed, would
come in as Freshmen and give the Sophs or Juniors a tussle for the team.
But "nothing succeeds like succes