"Shouldn't wonder. I had my troubles with him last term. But I thought he was going to do better this season." "He can't seem to, evidently." "Say," exclaimed Sid, poking his head from beneath the sheet, "I wish you fellows would let a chap sleep. What are you chinning about?" They told him, and, wide awake, he sat up and listened to the whole story. "I wish I'd seen it," he said. "It would have been as good as a football game. By the way, who does the team play this week, Phil?" "Oh, we've got a little game with the Haddonfield Prep. School. Doesn't amount to much. Some of the subs will play, I fancy." "I hope Holly doesn't make the mistake of despising an enemy," went on Sid. "Do you know, Phil, it seems to me that our fellows haven't struck their gait yet." "Well, it's early in the season," said Tom. "I know that," went on Sid, "but they ought to have more vim. There's a curious lack of ginger noticed. _You_ didn't play with your usual snap, Phil." "I know it," was the almost unexpected answer from the quarter-back. "I wondered if any one noticed it." "I did," added Tom, "but I wasn't going to say anything. I thought it was because it was the first game." "No," said Phil slowly, "it wasn't that. I'm all unstrung--nervous--that's what's the matter." "You nervous!" exclaimed Sid. "I wouldn't have believed that. What's the matter?" "It's my mother," said Phil quietly, and there was a strange tone in his voice. "She--she's not worse--is she?" asked Tom, and the room became curiously quiet. "No," answered Phil; "but I can't tell what moment she may be. Fellows, I'm living in constant fear of receiving a message that--that she--that she's dead!" CHAPTER XVII THE SOPHOMORES LOSE There are several occasions when a young man can find no words in which to express himself. One is when he meets a pretty girl for the first time, and another is when his best chum has a great sorrow. There are other occasions, but these are the chief ones. Thus it was with Tom and Sid. For a few seconds after Phil's announcement they sat staring at the floor. Their eyes took in the pattern of the faded rug, though little of the original figure was to be seen because of the many spots. Then Tom looked about the apartment, viewing the photographs of the two pretty girls, the sporting implements massed in a corner, the table, with its artistic confusion of books and papers. From these his gaze traveled back to Phil. As for Sid, he breathed heavily. If he had been a girl I would have said that he sighed. Then, being a youth who did not shirk any duty, no matter how hard, Sid asked: "Is--is she any worse, Phil? Have you had bad news? Can't we--can't you go down where she is?" Phil shook his head.