shed and victors mingled on terms of the most
cordial good fellowship. But the demands of training were not to be set
aside, and all too soon they were forced to tear themselves away and
repair to their hotel. By ten o'clock they were in their beds, lights
were out, and they were sleeping as only a college team can sleep after
a day of such storm and stress.

After Reddy had made his rounds and assured himself that all his charges
had retired, he joined "Bull" Hendricks for a chat and smoke over the
day's happenings. Few things had escaped their keen eyes during that
crowded hour, when conditions and formations changed with the swiftness
of a kaleidoscope. And now that it was all over, they could recall every
play, every gain, every fumble, every pass, with a precision that would
have been astounding to any one less versed than they in every turn and
angle of the game.

Their mood was one of deep, if quiet, satisfaction. A long and bitter
experience had made them cautious in prediction. They were by no means
ready to admit yet, even to themselves, that they had a team of "world
beaters." There were still a host of faults to be corrected, of raw
edges to be polished off, of plays to be developed. But, on the whole,
the boys had done surprisingly well. The dogged way in which they had
held the enemy when their goal was threatened was worthy of the best
"bulldog" tradition. And the slashing, ding dong way in which they had
worked the ball down the field in the last half had been gratifying
beyond words. It showed that the "never say die" spirit, that they had
tried so hard to instill, was there in abundance.

There was still another cause for congratulation. They had not been
forced to uncover any of the new tricks that they were holding in
reserve for the championship games. At one point, in the early part of
the game, they had feared this might be necessary, but the quick
recovery later on had enabled them to depend upon straight football. The
scouts for the "Greys" and "Maroons," several of whom had been "spotted"
in the stands, had had "their trouble for their pains," and the coach
was greatly elated in consequence.

"They'll go home with an empty bag from this day's hunting," he
chuckled.

"They sure will," assented Reddy, as he filled and lighted his faithful
cob. "And I'm thinking 'tis a little bit shaky they are, after seeing
the way we ripped up the Army line."

"That boy Wilson is certainly a hummer," comm