“Ah! What did I tell you, Ed? It is――it really is the famous Mr. Kingsford of whom we have all heard. There’s no use trying to deceive us, Mr. Kingsford. All is discovered. We know you. You were quarter-back on the All-America Girls’ Preparatory School Team last year!” Every one laughed at that, Evan as quickly as any. “Now, Mr. Kingsford,” went on Hopkins, very much pleased by his wit, “we will ask you to give us a few lessons in the rudiments of foot-ball. A little more room, please. Ed, produce the pigskin.” Prentiss pulled a foot-ball from under the bed. A strong cord was attached to the lacings, and Evan viewed it with misgivings. Hopkins placed the ball on the floor, retaining the end of the cord. “Now, Mr. Kingsford, kindly show us how to kick. Aim the ball toward the wall, please, so as not to break a window.” Evan knew well enough what to expect, but he went through the motions of kicking from placement. Of course the ball wasn’t there when his foot swung at it, and of course the audience was vastly amused. This performance was gone through with several times, Prentiss at each attempt shading his eyes with his hand and announcing the distance made, as: “Fine work, Kingsford! Forty-five yards and excellent direction!” “Fifty-odd that time, but a little too low. Try again.” “Better, much better! Sixty yards at least and a beautiful corkscrew! Wonderful! Marvellous!” [Illustration: “HE WENT THROUGH THE MOTIONS OF KICKING FROM PLACEMENT.”] Evan was almost as much amused as the others, and Hopkins didn’t like that. So, “Now, Mr. Kingsford, if you please, we will have a little falling on the ball.” A chorus of delighted laughter greeted this announcement. Falling on the ball wasn’t quite as funny as kicking it, to Evan at least, although every one else enjoyed it hugely. The floor was very, very hard and, of course, the ball was never there when he dropped, never save once when he was too quick for Hopkins and managed to snuggle the pigskin under his arm before the captain could yank it away. This feat won applause from the spectators and a scowl from Hopkins. “Put more ginger into it, Mr. Kingsford,” commanded the latter. “You’re not half trying. That’s better!” Evan’s elbow and hip crashed against the floor and the foot-ball bounded out of his reach. The audience howled approval. “Now try a dive, Mr. Kingsford. Stand off there about six feet and let us see what you can do with a moving ball.” But Evan was feeling pretty sore and lame by this time, and he rebelled. “I guess I’ve done enough,” he said good-humoredly. “This floor isn’t quite as soft as the turf.” “Enough,” said Prentiss, “why, we can never see enough of such clever work, Mr. Kingsford!” “Well, I’ve had enough, if you haven’t,” replied Evan doggedly. “You’ll do as we tell you,” said Hopkins. “We’re managing this show. Now you get over there and――”