He had worked out his forward pass in detail and Fullerton approved of it so highly that he tried it out with complete success that afternoon, much to Hollister’s delight. “Great stunt of yours,” Jarvis Blake said, as they were trotting across the field toward the athletic house. “I thought you’d realize that you couldn’t leave off helping the team out just yet a while.” Again Hollister felt that pleasant, satisfying glow of ability fitly recognized. Fullerton’s commendations had been especially emphatic, too, and they had a long discussion about a new move which the coach had not been able to plan out in detail, and which he was anxious to have Bob think over. Even Don Tempest, the captain, usually very chary with his praise, had held him up as an example to one or two lagging members of the team; and, altogether, Hollister was feeling pretty good as he entered the house. He joined Dick Merriwell, who was hastily dressing in front of his locker. “Did you get that general warning you were expecting?” Dick asked. Bob grinned. “No; but I got a talking to from the dean,” he returned. Dick whistled. “Calldown?” he asked. “Not so much of a one as I thought it was going to be,” Hollister confessed. “Told me I had to brace up and cut out football off the field. I’d like to have told him that it was just what you advised last night, but I didn’t.” Dick laughed. “Glad to have my judgment confirmed from so eminent a source,” he smiled. “I hope you’ll take some of this advice which is being thrown at you so plentifully.” Hollister’s face fell. “After to-night I will,” he said hastily. “I’ve got to think out that combination of Fullerton’s, you know; but to-morrow I really will begin to dig good and hard.” Merriwell’s face grew a little serious. “Think that’s wise, Bob?” he asked quietly. “I’ve noticed that the resolutions which we put off until to-morrow never materialize. They always get shoved on to another to-morrow. It’s none of my business, old fellow, but I should hate like the mischief to have anything happen so that you couldn’t keep on with the class.” “Oh, they won’t drop me,” Hollister said confidently. “Even the dean said he’d noticed my work on the field and thought I ought to have a little latitude. I’ll make it up after the season’s over, Dick. I’ll turn into such a grind you won’t know me. Gee! I’ve got to get a hustle on or I won’t get round to supper.” He hurried off without giving Dick a chance to reply. It almost seemed as if he were afraid of what his friend might say, but there was no fear of Merriwell’s following him up with advice which was apparently not wanted. As he glanced after Hollister there was a look of regret in Dick’s dark eyes. He knew just about how far Bob would go with his resolutions of turning over a new leaf, and it worried him a little to think of the chances his friend was taking.