Of course, having reached it and staggered breathlessly inside, they had to sit there for quite ten minutes before the car resumed its journey. But they were too grateful to mind that, and, although Willard looked at his watch frequently and anxiously, the conductor assured them that, if they didn’t burn out a fuse or run off the track or if the power didn’t give out, they would reach the Darlington station eight minutes before train time. Bob advised Cal to keep his hands out of sight and Cal hung them down between his knees all the way. The conductor’s prediction proved correct, and, as there were no misadventures on the journey, Cal was able to eradicate most of the paint from his hands before the train arrived. To his disgust, however, he discovered that his coat and trousers were liberally specked with black, and when Bob told him cheerfully that the paint wouldn’t be very noticeable on mixed goods he became quite angry. In the end they reached the Academy well before ten o’clock and unobtrusively sought their rooms, everyone very weary and, if the truth must be told, rather short-tempered by now. CHAPTER XX EVIDENCE Coach Cade was pleased with Saturday’s game, and said so. So, too, was the school in general. In fact, it seemed that the school found more encouragement than was warranted. One heard a good deal on Sunday about what Alton was going to do to Kenly when the time came. Doubtless much of this optimism was due to the arrival of Felix McNatt in the backfield, which, with the placing of Proctor at left tackle, appeared to round out the team remarkably. Certainly there was little in Saturday’s victory over a palpably weaker opponent to account for all the enthusiasm which spread over the school like a contagion. Sunday afternoon, walking across to Academy Hall to post a letter, Willard encountered McNatt bent on a similar errand. McNatt showed evidences of having played football recently, for three strips of adhesive plaster formed a star over one cheek-bone. Having dropped their letters in the box beside the entrance, the two boys stood for a few minutes and talked. McNatt was evidently a trifle discouraged about his mission of reforming football on a more scientific basis. “Mr. Cade says there’s a good deal in it, but thinks the--ah--impetus should come from the colleges. Now I don’t agree with him there, Harmon-- By the way, is your name Harmon or Brand? I heard some of the players calling you Brand yesterday.” “Harmon. Brand’s just a nickname.”