The audience proved that it was in entire sympathy with Goodyear’s sentiments by cheering long and loudly. And then it began again as the Assistant Principal stepped to the front of the stage. Mr. Collins, in spite of the fact that he represented Authority and meted out punishment to ill-doers, was very popular. Doctor Hewitt, or “Toby” as the school called him, was the Principal, but the doctor was getting well along in years now and the actual school management fell on the younger and very capable shoulders of “Mr. Warren Collins, A.M., Yale,” to quote the school catalogue. Mr. Collins confined his remarks to-night to a few moments only. He said he was glad to see them all back again, glad to see so much enthusiasm and glad that the football prospects looked so bright. “With a settled coaching policy well established, a coach whom we all admire and respect and a captain who has proved himself popular, brilliant and earnest,” said Mr. Collins, “we are very fortunate, I think. And I, for one, shall be very much surprised if this season proves anything but one of the best in recent years.” Mr. Bendix had his meed of welcome and applause when he followed the Assistant Principal. Although “Muscles” was a hard taskmaster and was often well hated by the lazier youths, he was generally liked. Besides, this was the beginning of the term, the old boys were happy at getting back again and the newcomers delighted to be there, and they would have cheered even “Mother” Walker, who was the least loved of all the faculty, had he appeared. Mr. Bendix had quite a little to say about physical examinations and the matter of training, and his remarks were not especially exhilarating. But everyone heard him through with respect and then burst into thunderous cheers as the football captain came to the front of the platform. Dan Vinton was a First Class boy, seventeen years of age, tall and lithe, with an alert, good-looking face in which a pair of steady brown eyes and a distinctly good-tempered mouth were the most notable features. Just at present the mouth was smiling, but there was embarrassment in the smile, for Dan wasn’t much of a speaker and had been dreading this occasion for weeks. As he waited for the applause to cease he sunk his hands in his trousers pockets, and then, realizing his lapse, hurriedly pulled them out again. The cheers changed to a shout of laughter and a boy in a front seat called: “Put ’em back again, Dan!” Then the hall quieted down, and Dan, more embarrassed than before, began to speak.