not forgotten the points drilled into him by Bob. But putting this
knowledge into execution before a field of players whom he felt had the
"show me" attitude, was a different matter.

The news spread throughout Trumbull that Judd Billings, kid brother of
the great, Bob, had at last gotten into athletics. On the heels of
this news came the word that he was the laughing stock of the football
squad. He was the crudest, awkwardest, greenest candidate that had
ever put in appearance on the Trumbull gridiron. No danger of his ever
picking up the laurels won for the Billings family by the older
brother! Judd was a joke. But though the grown folks smiled at the
reports they remarked that people would have to give Judd credit.
Something must have come over the boy to cause him to get out for the
team. Why he had not even engaged in a game of tiddly-winks before!

Judd went home from the first scrimmage with an aching body. He had
been placed in the line of one of the picked teams made up by Coach
Little and it had seemed to Judd that every play was directed at him.
Time and again he was on the bottom of the heap. He could feel the
players piling on top of him and on several occasions his face was
plowed in the dirt. Judd wasn't hurt. He marvelled at this. And
there had been a certain thrill in the moments that he had managed to
grasp the man with the ball and hang on until he had brought him down.
But Judd was not sure that he liked this rough treatment.

That night Judd wrote to Bob. He had been reading his contract over.
There had come to him a strong temptation to quit. Several fellows had
gotten bruised in practice. Jimmy Blackwell had the skin taken off his
knuckles when someone stepped on his hand; Harry Knowlton got a clip
over one eye; Tom Barley had his wind knocked out. It would be but a
matter of time before something happened to him. In the letter to Bob,
he wrote: "I don't know why I'm so timid. I don't feel scared inside
but something keeps me from going only so far. I know I can do better
but I don't. We had our first scrimmage today. Some of the fellows
got bunged up. They didn't seem to mind it. I guess they're made
different than I am."

Bob was glad that Judd had taken to writing him. If Judd could only
confide his feelings in some one he would perhaps be able to keep up
his morale. It helped to know that someone understood what you were
going through. With Bob it had been his fat