“But, look here, Kendall―― By the way, I can’t recall your last name, my boy. Was it Benson?” “Burtis, sir.” “Burtis, of course!” Mr. Dana slapped his knee. “And how are your folks, Burtis? Father and mother well, I hope? They’re nice people. We had a bully summer up there that time.” “Yes, sir, thank you, they’re all well.” “And the old spotted cow that chased me out of the barnyard one morning? How’s she getting on?” “She’s gone,” laughed Kendall. “We made beef of her.” “How are the mighty fallen!” said Mr. Dana. “Burtis, that cow was one of the few persons――or things――I was ever afraid of!” He noticed the blue badge on Kendall’s coat and nodded at it. “What sort of a decoration is that? What noble deed have you performed to be allowed to wear that proud insignia?” “It’s just a badge to get inside the ropes, sir. I was playing football on the Second Team for a while.” “Second? Dear me, I thought you’d make the first and kick yourself to glory and fame, Burtis! Haven’t forgotten all we taught you about punting and drop-kicking, have you?” “No, sir. I――I’ve still got that ball.” “What ball is that?” “The one you gave me when you left our place, sir.” “I’d forgotten about it, Burtis. You still have it, you say. It must be getting a pension now, eh? But, look here, why didn’t you get taken on to the First Team, Burtis? If there was ever a team in need of a good punter, to say nothing of a drop-kicker, it’s this one right here. Why, Payson told me not an hour ago that kicking was their weakest department.” “I――I did try, Mr. Dana, but I had――bad luck.” And then Kendall told about his probation and how he had to give up football and how Dan Vinton had got him back onto the Second Team at the end of the season. “Too bad.” Mr. Dana shook his head. “That sort of thing doesn’t pay, Burtis. Of course, I don’t object to a fellow having his fun, but it’s a mistake to get the Office down on you. See what it’s cost in your case. If you hadn’t got on probation you might have made the First and been out there now winning the game for us.” “Yes, sir, I know; but it wasn’t really my fault. It――it was a sort of mistake.” “Was it?” Mr. Dana smiled. “Well, don’t have too many of them. Mistakes are costly. Still kick pretty well, do you? We used to have great hopes of you at the farm, Burtis. Your legs seemed made for kicking a football and you seemed to get the hang of it remarkably well. Did you do the punting for the Second?” “No, sir. I――I didn’t play much, you see.” “Still, you might have kept in practice, Burtis,” responded Mr. Dana with a slight frown. “Why didn’t you?” “I did practice a good deal. I used to come down here in the mornings between recitations for a while.” “That sounds more like the boy I used to know,” said the other approvingly. “You used to have as much stick-at-it as any lad I ever met. Did you get so you could do your forty yards all right?”