“Oh, if they are looking for rough-house, they can find it! Remember what happened to the Trojans when they tried that sort of business.” Dick remembered that the Trojans had been battered into a state of amazed decency. Chester Arlington’s interest in the football-team seemed very keen. He was out every day to watch practise, and he cheered and encouraged the boys like a most loyal supporter of the eleven. He even went further than that. Darrell’s shoulder had been injured, and Chester declared he knew just how to massage the muscles to bring it back into perfect condition. He peeled off his coat, to the surprise of all, and gave Hal’s shoulder a rubbing after practise each day. And it was a fact that Darrell’s shoulder improved amazingly beneath this treatment. Seeing which, some of the other fellows, who were bruised or lame, ventured to ask Chester to give them a little attention. Dick was not a little surprised when Arlington consented and seemed so intensely eager to have every man on the team in the finest possible condition. Buckhart looked on in deepest distrust. Leaving Arlington in the gym, working over Bradley, stripped of coat, vest, and hat, and sweating handsomely, Brad followed Dick from the building and spoke to him as they walked toward the barracks. “This yere Ches Arlington is puzzling me some, I admit I can’t just make out his little game now.” “Then you think he’s up to some game?” asked Dick. “Pard, he’s crooked. He’s been against us ever since he found he couldn’t get on the team. There is no reason why he should flop now.” Dick thought how Chester had been compelled to humble himself and ask a favor. Was it possible there had come a change of heart in the fellow? “I suppose you’re right, Brad,” he said. “But I don’t see what harm he can do. He seems to be doing considerable good.” “I wouldn’t let him put his paws on me if every bone in my body was out of place and he could put them all back!” exploded the Westerner. “Bradley’s just thick-headed chump enough to let him do it.” In the meantime, Arlington had attended to Billy Bradley, who was the last one to seek his attention, and had donned his coat and vest and found Hal Darrell waiting. Bradley departed, leaving Arlington and Darrell together. “Well, Arlington, old man,” said Darrell, with a puzzled smile, “I never thought you’d come down to it.” Chester flushed a bit. “Come down to what?” he asked. “Rubbing these fellows you consider so far beneath you. It is amazing!” “I suppose so,” admitted Chester. “You have turned Good Samaritan.” “For my own benefit.” “For your benefit?” “Exactly.” “I fail to catch on. How for your benefit?” “I’ve got to get on my feet somehow, Darrell. You know my dislike for Merriwell has led me into betting heavily against Fardale, and I have been soaked good and hard.” “Yes, I know.”