“You know you weren’t,” answered Kendall indignantly. “And you did say maybe I could――――” “Maybe! Sure I said maybe, Burtis. But what would you be doing out there with one arm in a sling――――” “I don’t need to keep it in a sling, Andy!” “You don’t, eh? Listen, son. Do you keep your hand where I put it and take care of it. Then maybe you can play next week. If you don’t――――” “Maybe!” gasped Kendall in dismay. “Is――is there any doubt of it?” “There is,” replied Andy dryly. “All ready, men!” Kendall, staring blankly before him, turned to find a seat on the bench, and heard his name called. Gerald was leaning across the barrier with an anxious countenance. “What did you do?” he called. “Break anything?” “Dislocated,” answered Kendall, tapping the bandaged wrist. He moved nearer to Gerald. “They say I can’t play any more to-day, and――and――――” “Of course you can’t,” agreed Gerald frowningly. “You’ve got to take care of it. Isn’t it mean luck, Kendall?” One might have thought that it was Gerald who had injured himself instead of Kendall. The latter nodded gloomingly, waved his well hand and found a seat between Metz and Jackson. Metz was not very cheerful company these days, since he had but lately been deposed from right end in favor of Adler and was not yet viewing the matter philosophically. Jackson, who was a substitute guard, a big, raw-boned chap with lantern jaws and eyebrows that met companionably above his nose, glanced at Kendall’s injury and asked laconically: “Broke, Burtis?” “No, just a dislocation.” “Too bad ’tain’t broke. They say breaks heal quicker’n dislocations.” “My, but you’re a cheerful comforter,” muttered Kendall, as he turned to watch the kick-off. Merriwell had elected to give that honor to Nordham. There was no advantage attached to the possession of either end of the field to-day, for there was no wind. The rain still descended, but it was more like a heavy mist now. Nordham booted the ball far down the field, and Simms got it near his own ten-yard line and by a wonderful effort that brought the onlookers to their feet carried it past mid-field. By that time the Yardley back had dodged and fought his way past the entire Nordham team save its quarter and seemed well on his way for a touchdown. Having outstripped his interference, Simms ran directly at the Red’s quarter-back at full speed. But that youth was not to be fooled. He approached Simms slowly and cautiously. Just as the runner swerved to his left the red-legged player made a diving plunge at Simms and brought him down, the two sliding through mud and water for yards after the tackle.