a group of badly fussed and dumbfounded school
boys. Even Red Murdock could not conceal a look of frank bewilderment.
What on earth was the great John Brown driving at? He had never heard
the coach extol an eleven before. This was a most radical departure....

"A comparatively green line and a green backfield and yet you held
Larwood to one touchdown and threatened her goal five different times!
There is victory enough for me in that achievement...."

Forgetting their embarrassment at the praise which was being heaped
upon them, a change began to creep over the team members--a sort of
magical change which stiffened spines and raised heads with a growing
pride. Gone was the inward despondency which had gripped them since
their gruelling loss to Larwood. And in its place...?

Quick to note this rousing transformation, Red Murdock--assistant
coach--fought back a smile and the simultaneous inclination to kick
himself.

"Strike me for a dumb-bell! J. B. sure knows his stuff. He realizes
he's dealing with practically new and little seasoned men ... and he's
trying to save their morale and bolster it up for the biggest game of
the year--against Delmar. Criticism at this stage of development would
eat their hearts out. He's feeding them... but oh, aren't they eating
it? They've turned to putty in his hands right now!"

This much Red Murdock told himself while Coach Brown was pacing
impulsively across the room and back. The wily old fox still! And the
Elliott men leaning forward breathlessly, hanging upon his every word.

"But what you _have_ done is nothing as compared to what you _can_ do!
This week you are going to learn how to beat Delmar ... and next
Saturday you are going to do it!"

An involuntary gasp escaped the lips of John Brown's listeners.

"You are going to do it because I have faith in you and I am going to
see you through. I..."

The face of John Brown returned suddenly back to its chalk-like white;
the flash sunk out of his eyes, leaving weary rings; the drawn quality
took hold of his cheek muscles--and his foot slipped off the bench to
the floor as he clutched impulsively at his shirt front.

"I..."

A dozen hands caught the great John Brown as he slumped forward and
fell.

There was the mad moment of bringing water, of applying restoratives,
of sending out a rush call for Doctor Landon. Then the quieter, more
chilling moment when the doctor had come ... and had looked up ... and