“That’s the one I got this morning.” “Well, I wouldn’t let a thing like that worry me,” Blake went on quickly. “The profs don’t seem to realize that a fellow can’t give much time to work during the football season. They get down on a man, too, and, once he flunks, they keep pounding him out of sheer spite. I haven’t got any warnings so far, but I’d be willing to bet that one or two will come along within the next two weeks.” “Hope you don’t, I’m sure,” Hollister returned absently. “There’s no doubt about it, though, I’ve got to take a brace and cut out thinking about football at all off the field, if I want to stay on with the class.” A look of dismay came into Blake’s sun-burned face. “Why, what the mischief are you thinking of, Bob?” he asked quickly. “Stop thinking about football when you’re the brains, practically, of the team! Why, only a couple of days ago I heard old Bill saying that three-quarters of the clever stunts he had made use of this fall were due to you.” Hollister’s face flushed a little and his eyes gleamed with pleasure. “Is that straight?” he asked eagerly. “Did he really say all that?” “He certainly did, and a lot more, which I won’t repeat for fear you’ll have to buy a bigger-sized hat. You can’t stop now, Bob, when we’re all counting on you for so much. The new rules have practically made a different game out of football, and you’ve been one of the few that have risen to the occasion and doped out a bunch of new tricks which will knock spots out of Harvard. All this warning business is tommyrot. They won’t drop you, and after the season is over you can buckle down to work and make up for lost time.” Blake’s words made a deep impression on Hollister, especially since they coincided exactly with his own ideas. After all, what was the use in worrying himself about the matter when there were only a few more weeks left before the season would be over? He would have no trouble then in recovering the ground he had lost, once his mind was freed from the constant consideration of football problems. And, according to Jarvis Blake, his help was really needed by the team. “Better reconsider,” Blake urged presently. “Don’t give up the ship just yet.” They were going into the laboratory as he spoke, and Hollister hesitated an instant in the doorway. “I will, Jarv,” he said slowly. “Much obliged for all you told me about old Bill. That sort of thing is mighty encouraging, you know.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER III A TALK WITH THE DEAN. Bob Hollister fully expected to find a general warning awaiting him in his rooms, when he returned at noon. He had been surprised that it had not appeared in the morning, but supposed it to have been delayed in the mail.