"We have to imagine, George. If we stuck to facts we'd never get anywhere in our profession! You try a little imagination, old chap. You're too matter-of-fact. What you can't see you won't believe in." "I certainly won't! As the kids say, seeing's believing." "Well, there's a very unattractive board fence across the road, George. On the other side of it there are shrubs and grass. I can't see them, but I know they're there." "More likely tin-cans and ashes," grunted Mr. Robey. "Pessimist!" laughed the other. "But never mind; ashes or grass, something's there, and you can't see it and yet you've got to acknowledge the existence of it. Now haven't you?" "I suppose so, but"--Mr. Robey laughed--"I'd rather see it!" "Climb the fence and have a look then! But you'll try my plan with the boy, won't you?" "Yes, I will. If only to satisfy my curiosity, Gus. Hang it, the chap _can't_ be a quitter!" "He isn't. I'll stake my reputation as--as a romanticist on that! I'd like mighty well to stay and solve the mystery with you, but I'll have to jump for that early train. I wish, though, that you'd drop me a line and tell me the outcome. I'm interested--and puzzled." "All right. I'm not much of a letter-writer, though. I'll see you before you go back and tell you about it. You'll be in New York on Sunday, won't you?" "Until two o'clock. Have lunch with me and see me off. Come to the hotel as early as you can and we'll hold post-mortems on the games. Let's hope that Princeton and Brimfield both win next Saturday, George!" CHAPTER XXIII CROSS-EXAMINATION DON found being a hero an embarrassing business the next day. The masters bothered him by stopping and shaking hands and saying nice things, and the fellows beamed on him if they weren't well enough acquainted to speak and insisted on having a full and detailed history of that train-wreck if they were! Of course they all, masters and students, meant well and wanted to show their admiration, but Don wished they wouldn't. It made him feel horribly self-conscious, and feeling self-conscious was distinctly uncomfortable. At breakfast table his companions referred to last evening's incident laughingly and poked fun at Don and enjoyed his embarrassment, but it wasn't difficult to tell that Doctor Proctor's narrative had made a strong impression on them and increased their liking for Don. When, just before Don had finished his meal, Mr. Robey left the training-table and crossed the room toward him he braced himself for another scene in which he would have to stand up and be shaken by the hand, and possibly, and worst of all, listen to some sort of an apology from the coach. But Don was spared, for Mr. Robey only placed a hand on the back of his chair, included the rest of the occupants of the table in his "Good-morning," and said carelessly: "Gilbert, I wish you'd drop over to Mr. Conklin's office some time this morning and see me. What time can you come?" "Half-past ten, sir?"