“That’ll about do for you!” he said, in a hard voice. “Go over that pass again, and do it right this time.” Jack Kenny’s face was scarlet. His lips trembled and he was evidently having a struggle to contain himself. Finally, with tightly clenched fists, he turned his back to the captain and crouched in his place. “By thunder!” he muttered. “I can’t stand much more of that. Just about one more of those remarks and something will happen.” This time the pass went through without any criticism on the part of Don Tempest. He seemed to realize that he had been rather too hasty, and for a time he restrained his very evident desire to dictate to the quarter back. Kenny kept at the pass until the fellows had it down like clockwork. For a time he was obstinately determined not to leave it until Tempest gave the word. The latter had been running things to suit himself. Let him decide what he wanted done. Presently, however, the quarter back realized the childishness of such methods of procedure. Tempest’s interference was the very thing which had made him so sore, and now he was simply playing into the captain’s hands by his foolishness. Consequently, when he was sure that the pass had been thoroughly mastered, he gave the signal for the crisscross play which had used up so much time the day before. He did not consider it of very much value. From its very nature, they could not use it more than twice at the most, during the entire game; but so much stress had been laid on it yesterday that he went through it a number of times until he felt that the men had it thoroughly in their heads. Then he branched out into something else. For a time Tempest made no comment, though the fellows noticed that he was getting more and more uneasy. They could see no particular reason for it. Kenny seemed to be doing well enough. He was going through all the passes and runs and formations which had been practiced so much for two weeks back, alternating them with skill and judgment. It was a sort of general review of the plays which they would use against Harvard, and the quarter back felt that it was good season they went through it; instead of spending all their time on one or two formations. The shadows began to lengthen across the field. Presently the sun dropped behind the west grand stand, and twilight swiftly gathered. Still Kenny kept up his general tactics without returning to the double pass or the crisscross which had used up so much of the afternoon. At length, just as they were lining up after a round-the-end run, Tempest spoke up again. “Give us that crisscross again,” he said shortly. “Bah!” grumbled Kenny, without turning. “You and your old crisscross!” Tempest’s ears seemed to be abnormally sharp. “What did you say?” he snapped.