"S'matter?" said the musician reproachfully. "Well, if you must go, good night. I cannot frivol my time away at Poli's vaudeville when true art is stirring in my soul." "Let her stir then," said Frank. "We're off," and the door banged. CHAPTER VI. THE GREAT FRESHMAN BATTLE. The week of the Princeton game was a hard one for the Freshman team. Coach Howard, assisted by several members of the 'Varsity coaching staff, drove the team with all his might, but the results were not encouraging. Frank had been established as quarterback on the second team on the Monday following the Pawling game, and was making good there. He was now a substitute to Madden, and twice had been called over to the first eleven when Madden went out of the game temporarily. Away back in his head was the hope that he might still win out in the race for the quarterback position. But Madden had come to Yale with a big reputation justly earned at Hill School, and was a hard man to displace. When Frank's hopes were highest the crash came. Bostwick, the captain and end, threw out his knee in a fierce scrimmage, and was carried groaning to the side-lines. "The fifth end hurt this fall, confound the luck," said Howard as he stood looking down at the captain. "And no one to take your place that's worth a cent." "I'll be all right in a day or two," moaned Bostwick. "Stick some one in till I get a brace on this thing. I can play in the game Saturday." "Maybe you can and maybe you can't," said the coach. "Did you ever see such beastly luck, and we were just beginning to round into shape. Who am I going to put in there? There's half a dozen ends and none of them worth a tinker." He ran his eye over the squad which crowded around the injured captain. "Here, Armstrong," he called, "did you ever play end?" "A few times in prep. school, sir." "Well you can learn it, can't you?" said Howard petulantly. "Bostwick may pull through in time, and maybe he can't, and you are better than anything I have." "I'll do my best," said Frank, feeling his hopes for a place on the team slipping away, for he knew well that in the short time still left in the season his chances were small to learn that most difficult of line positions--end. "You are fast and about the only clean tackler I have on the squad," said Howard. "Get in and try it." Bostwick, having been temporarily fixed up and led limping away in the arms of two of the substitutes in the direction of the car, play was resumed with Armstrong in his new position. "Don't you let anyone get past you on the outside," commanded Howard. "And don't be drawn in, no matter what happens. If you can't break the interference, spill it so the defensive half can get the man with the ball. Come on, try it." Frank did try and tried hard. His ankle had improved, and under the punts he went down the field like a streak of lightning, missing but few tackles. But when the team was on the defensive, he showed the weakness of inexperience.