"I'll punch your head!" he cried to Tom, who promptly ensconced himself behind the bed. "Hurt yourself?" asked Phil innocently. "If you did it's a judgment on you, misogynist that you are." "You dry up!" growled Sid, as he rubbed his shins. Then, peace having finally been restored, they all began studying, while waiting for the summons to supper. When the bell rang, Phil and Tom made a mad rush for the dining-room. "Football practice gives you a fine appetite," observed Phil. "I didn't know you fellows needed any inducement to make you eat," spoke Sid. "Neither we do," said Tom. "But come on, Phil, if he gets there first there'll be little left for us, in spite of his gentle words." "We'll have harder work at practice to-morrow," continued Phil as they sat down at the table. "It will be the first real line-up, and I'm anxious to see how I'll do against Shipman." "He's got Gerhart's place for good, has he?" asked Tom. "It looks so. Pass the butter, will you? Do you want it all?" "Not in the least, bright-eyes. Here; have a prune." "Say, you fellows make me tired," observed Sid. "What's the matter with you lately, old chap?" asked Tom. "You're as grumpy as a bear with a sore nose. Has your girl gone back on you?" "There you go again!" burst out Sid. "Always talking about girls! I declare, since those pictures and things are up in the room, you two have gone daffy! I'll have 'em all down, first thing you know." "If you do, we'll chuck you in the river," promised Phil. Thus, amid much good-natured banter, though to an outsider it might not sound so, the supper went on. There was more hazing that night, in which Phil and Tom had a share, but Sid would not come out, saying he had to study. "Come on, Tom," called Phil the next afternoon, "all out for the first real line-up of the season. I'm going to run the 'varsity against the scrub, and I want to see how I make out." "Has the 'varsity eleven all been picked out?" asked Tom anxiously. "Practically so, though, of course, there will be changes." "I wonder if I----" "You're to go at left-end. Come on, and we'll get our togs on." After a little preliminary practice the two teams were told to line-up for a short game of fifteen-minute halves. Coach Lighton named those who were to constitute a provisional 'varsity eleven, and, to his delight, Tom's name was among the first named. Phil went to quarter, naturally, and several of Tom's chums found themselves playing with him. "Now try for quick, snappy work from the start," was the advice of the coach. "Play as though you meant something, not as if you were going on a fishing trip, and it didn't matter when you got there." The ball was put into play. The 'varsity had it, and under the guidance of Phil Clinton, who gave his signals rapidly, the scrub was fairly pushed up the field, and a little later the 'varsity had scored a touchdown. Goal was kicked, and then the lads were ready for another tussle.