well was trying to draw him out.

"Oh, I don't know..." said Judd, hesitatingly.

Blackwell lowered his voice.

"Say ... I've never told this to anyone and I wouldn't want you to
repeat it. This is my last year in high school ... same as it is
yours. It's my third year on the football team. When I first started
in I was so afraid of myself that I'd worry myself sick over things
that never happened. I could never quite figure you out until that
time when I tackled you. I know what it means to stick it out the way
you have. But you'll come out on top if you hang on. Nothing bothers
me any more..."

Judd could hardly believe his ears. Could it be possible that a player
like Blackwell had experienced the same feelings? Judd thrilled with
the thought. It was good news to hear that another person had overcome
something similar to that which he was struggling to conquer.

"How ... how long did it take you to ... to get the best of it?" Judd
asked, interestedly.

"I still have to fight it ... at times..." replied Blackwell, gazing
down at his bandaged ankle. "But the old feeling doesn't stay with me
long. I soon get the upper hand ... The reason I'm speaking about
this to you is partly a selfish one. It's been my ambition to see
Canton High defeated. For two years I've played on the losing team.
This year we counted on turning the trick ... until I was injured.
Between you and me, Rudolph can't make the grade. He is fast but too
small. We'll be outweighed at least ten pounds to the man. Rudolph
will play for all there is in him but there isn't enough. If I get in
I won't last long. You saw me out there ... kicking. It's about all I
can do to put the weight of my body on this left foot, to say nothing
of booting the ball at the same time ... I don't know whether the
coach will give you a chance unless it's to make a kick. But if you
could get a grip on yourself and let loose once ... say, I'M not even
trying to guess what might happen!"

Judd sat, his blood pounding in his veins, thinking of what Blackwell
had told him. He was vaguely conscious of the sound of signals being
called, of cries of spectators, of the dull tread of running feet. Out
on the field the loyal sons of Trumbull High were doing their utmost to
get in tip top shape for the biggest battle of the season.

A sudden yell went up as Burton recovered a first team fumble and
started on his way toward the goal with a clear field ahe