te so soon and Roy looked properly
regretful when the ball went bobbing away into the center of the circle
and the shaggy-haired youth went sprawling after it, only to miss it at
the first try and have to crawl along on elbows and knees until he had
it snuggled under his body. The tall one rewarded Roy with a scowl when
he got back to his place, but Roy met the scowl with a look of cherubic
innocence, and only Mr. Cobb, watching from outside the circle, smiled
as he turned away. After that Roy kept the tall one guessing, but there
were no more fumbles. Presently Mr. Cobb called a halt.

"That'll do, fellows. I want to get your names now, so keep your places
a moment."

Out came a note book and pencil and one by one the candidates' names
were entered. Roy looked on while he awaited his turn and thought that
he was going to like Mr. Cobb. The instructor was rather small, a trifle
bald-headed and apparently a bunch of muscles. His scarcity of hair
could hardly have been due to advanced age for he didn't look a bit over
thirty. In his time he had been a good quarter-back on his college
eleven and one of the best shortstops of his day.

The small youth at Roy's right, after darting several diffident looks in
his direction, at length summoned courage to address him.

"You're a new boy, aren't you?" he asked.

"Brand new," answered Roy smilingly. "How about you?"

"Oh, I've been here two years." The knowledge lent a degree of assurance
and he went on with less embarrassment. "I was a junior last year and
couldn't play. You know, they won't let the juniors play football here.
Mighty mean, I think, don't you?"

"Well, I don't know," answered Roy. "I played when I was twelve, but I
guess it's pretty risky for a kid of that age to do it. How old are
you?"

"Fourteen. Do you think I'll stand any show to get on the team?"

"Why not? You look pretty solid. Can you run?"

"Not very fast. Ferris said I wouldn't have any show at all and so I
thought I'd ask you; you seemed to know about football."

"Did I? How could you tell?" asked Roy surprisedly.

"Oh, by the way you--went at it," answered the other vaguely.

"Oh, I see. Who's Ferris?"

"S-sh!" The small youth lowered his voice. "That's he next to you; Otto
Ferris. He's trying for half-back. He almost made it last year."

"Is he on the crew?" asked Roy.

"Yes, Number Three. He's a particular chum of Burlen's."

"You don't say? And who's Burlen?"

The other's fea