a lot of that out of
him. He's too good-natured; I know the sort; but mark my words, Jack, if
you can get him mad he'll play like a whirlwind! Oh, it's too late now;
Bacon and Burlen are your best pair. Only--well, there's no use
regretting. You've picked a pretty good team, old man, and if you can
ginger them up a bit more, get more fight into them next Saturday,
you'll stand to win. Remember this, Jack; a fresh center that knows the
game, even if he is slow, is better than a tuckered one. Give Forrest a
chance in the second half, if you can; and put Porter in with him.
They're a good pair. Too bad Porter can't work better with Burlen; he's
a streak, that kid! Well--"

Roy moved out of hearing and presently he and Forrest were back on the
second and they were hammering their way down the field again. The first
fifteen-minute half ended with the ball in possession of the second on
the first's twenty-yard line. The players trotted to the side-line and
crept under their blankets and sweaters, King and Rogers and Cobb
talking and gesticulating a little way off. Roy found himself next to
Forrest. The center, rubbing thoughtfully at a strained finger, heaved a
sigh.

"Sorry I disappointed Johnny," he said. "But, shucks! Why, I couldn't
stand up ten minutes against that Hammond center! I know what I'm good
for, Porter; I don't try to deceive myself into thinking I'm a great
player; only--well, I'm sorry I couldn't do better for Johnny King."

"You'll do a heap better next Saturday," answered Roy.

"Pshaw! They won't let me into it!"

"You wait and see," said Roy. "And if you go in I guess I will. And if
we do get into it, Forrest, let's show them what we can do, will you?"

Forrest turned and observed the other's earnest countenance smilingly.

"I'll do the best I know how," he said good-naturedly, "but I guess
they'll do better to leave me out."

"Oh, you be hanged!" grunted Roy. "You'll fight or I'll punch you!"

"Oh, I guess I'll get my fill of punches," laughed Forrest. "They say
that Hammond center is a corker at that game!"

"I believe you're scared of him," taunted Roy.

But Forrest only shook his big head slowly.

"Oh, I guess not," he answered. "Come on; time's up."

The first scored again soon after play was resumed, Jack Rogers getting
through outside left-tackle for a twelve-yard plunge across the line.
Then the ball went to the second and, with the injunction to confine his
plays to straight plung