"Hello, Parsons," a voice greeted him as he was walking up the campus. "Where you bound for?" The speaker was Frank Sullivan, manager of the Fairview ball team. "Oh, I just came over to see what sort of a football eleven you were going to stack up against us this fall," answered Tom easily. "Not very good, I'm afraid," declared Frank. "We're in pretty bad shape. Several of our best men have been hurt in practice." "We've got a few cripples ourselves," said Tom. "Phil Clinton just got laid up with a bad shoulder." "Our half-back is a wreck," added Frank. It is curious, but true, nevertheless, that most football elevens seem to rejoice in the number of cripples they can boast of. The worse the men are "banged up," the better those interested in the team seem to be. It may be that they wish to conceal from other teams their real condition, and so give the enemy a false idea of their strength. However that may be, the fact remains. "So you came over to see how we were doing, eh?" went on Frank. "Well, not very good, I'm afraid. We expect to be the tailenders this season," which was not at all what Frank expected, however, nor did his friends. But he considered it policy to say so. "I didn't come over for that alone," said Tom. "I have a message to Phil's sister. Say, how do you get into the female department of this shebang, anyhow? What's the proper method of procedure? Do I have to have the password and a countersign?" "Pretty nearly. It's like the combination on a safe. The first thing you will have to do is to go and interview Miss Philock." "Who's she?" "The preceptress; and a regular ogress into the bargain. If you pass muster with her first inspection, you'll have to answer a lot of categorical questions covering your whole life history. Then, maybe, she'll consent to take a note from you to the fair damsel." "Can't I see her?" asked Tom in some dismay, for he had counted on meeting Madge Tyler. "See a girl student of Fairview after dark? Why, the idea is preposterous, my dear sir! Perfectly scandalous!" and Frank gave a fair imitation of an indignant lady teacher. "Well, I'll have to send word in," decided Tom, "for I didn't bring a note." "Do you know her personally?" asked Frank. "Who--Miss Philock or Phil's sister?" "Phil's sister?" "No, I don't." "Worse and more of it. I wish you joy of your job. But I'm off. There's going to be some hazing, and I'm on the committee to provide some extra tortures for the freshies. So long. Miss Philock has her den in that red building on your left," and, whistling a merry air, which was utterly out of keeping with Tom's spirits, Frank Sullivan walked away. "Well, here goes," said Tom to himself, as he walked up to the residence of the preceptress and rang the bell.