ne Joel the First, who kicked a goal from
field and defeated thereby the hosts of St. Eustace. And Professor
Durkee shakes his head and says he will never have another so attentive
and appreciative member of his class. And now tell me, how are you
getting on with Dutton?"

So Joel recited his football adventures in full, not omitting the
ludicrous touch-down, which received laughing applause from his
listener, and recounting his promotion to the position of Varsity
substitute.

"Yes, I saw in the paper last week that you had been placed on the sub
list of the Varsity. I hope you'll have a chance to play against Yates,
although I don't wish Prince any harm. He's a good fellow and a hard
worker. Hello, it's one-fifteen. Let's get some lunch."

A half hour later they parted, Joel hurrying off to recitation and
Remsen remaining behind to keep an appointment with a friend. After this
they met almost every day, and Remsen was a frequent caller at Joel's
room, where he with Joel and Outfield held long, cosy chats about every
subject from enameling golf balls to the Philosophy of Kant and the
Original Protoplasm.

Meanwhile the season hurried along. Harwell met and defeated the usual
string of minor opponents by varying scores, and ran up against the red
and blue of Keystone College with disastrous results. But one important
contest intervened between the present time and the game with Yates, and
the hardest sort of hard work went on daily inside the inclosed field. A
small army of graduates had returned to coach the different players, and
the daily papers were filled, according to their wont, with columns of
sensational speculation and misinformation regarding the merits of the
team and the work they were performing. Out of the mass of clashing
"facts" contained in the daily journals but one thing was absolutely
apparent: to wit, the work of the Harwell Eleven was known only to the
men and the coaches, and neither would tell about it.

At last, when chill November had been for a few days in the land, the
game with the red and white clad warriors from Ithaca took place on a
wet and muddy field, and Joel played the game through from start to
finish, Prince being engaged in nursing his treacherous ankle, which had
developed alarming symptoms with the advent of wet weather. The game
resulted in a score of twenty-four to five, the Ithacans scoring a neat,
but inexcusable, goal from field in the first half. Joel played like a