Dan sat up on the bed and nodded, looking inquiringly at the visitor. The latter wasn’t by any means a handsome youth. His hair was of a nondescript shade of light brown, a sort of ashy-brown, his eyes were gray, his nose just escaped being a pug nose and his mouth was decidedly large. But there was something about the face, which was most liberally sprinkled with brown freckles, that made you like it; perhaps the eyes with their straightforward way of looking at you, perhaps the nose with its humorous disregard for classic outline, perhaps the good-natured mouth that seemed always on the point of breaking into a smile, perhaps the combination of all the features together. But whatever the cause, the result was undeniable; the face was pleasing in spite, or perhaps because, of its homeliness. The boy came from the country; there was no manner of doubt about that. His hair, worn too long according to city standards, told you so; the freckles told you so; the poorly cut, pepper-and-salt suit of clothes fairly cried it at you. And a certain awkwardness of carriage affirmed it. Seeing the boy’s embarrassment, Dan went to his rescue. “Hello!” he said. “Come in and sit down. I’m Vinton. What can I do for you?” “Why――why――my name’s Burtis,” stammered the other. “I just got here to-day, and I was at the meeting to-night and heard you say you wanted fellows to play football, and I thought I’d come and see if you had an application blank you――you don’t want.” “A――a what?” asked Dan politely. “An application blank; to fill out.” “Oh, an application blank,” responded Dan, trying to disguise his puzzlement. “I see. Now what kind of an application blank? What is it you want to apply for?” “Why, I――I want to play football,” explained Kendall. “I’ve got you now,” said Dan gravely, fearing to glance at Gerald, who had turned his face away from the boy at the door. “Sit down, won’t you?” Kendall closed the door behind him carefully and took the nearest chair. “I don’t know as you want any more players?” he observed questioningly. “We surely do,” replied Dan heartily. “We want all the players we can get. By the way, let me introduce you to my roommate, Mr. Pennimore.” “Glad to meet you,” said Gerald after a supreme struggle with his voice. “We――er――we were talking football when you came.” “You’ve played before?” asked Dan. Kendall shook his head. “No, sir, but I thought I’d like to learn how.” “Of course. Well, you come out to the field to-morrow afternoon at four o’clock and report to Mr. Payson. He’s our coach. Have you any togs?” “Togs?” “Yes, football clothes; canvas pants and jacket, you know; and shoes.” “No, sir, but I guess I can get some if they don’t cost too much.” “Well, they aren’t very expensive. Still, if I were you, I’d just put on an old suit of everyday things to-morrow. Maybe you won’t like the game after you’ve tried it. In that case you’ll have saved yourself the price of your football togs.”