“I see. Well, as I was saying, I don’t think Mr. Cade is right. I believe that if we fellows at this school developed the game along the lines that you and I have discussed so frequently, others would follow. There--there’d be a movement, Harmon. If we look to the colleges to make the start we’ll have to wait a long time, I fear. In my opinion colleges are extremely conservative in the matter of football, especially the larger ones, the--ah--the leaders. Of course I realize that the season is so far advanced that any extreme changes now would possibly militate against the team’s success. Nevertheless, I am hoping that Mr. Cade will decide to experiment in a small way. I have spoken to quite a number of the players and they all appeared most interested. In fact, I don’t recall that any of them offered a serious criticism.” “I guess it’ll take time,” murmured Willard. “Great ideas generally have to--to overcome a good deal of opposition, don’t you think? How does it seem to be playing again, McNatt?” The full-back’s face lighted. “Splendid,” he replied. “Do you know, Harmon, I didn’t suppose I could find so much pleasure in the game again. Of course I realize that I’m still rather stale, but it’s coming back to me, it’s coming back.” McNatt nodded gravely. “I make mistakes and I’m frightfully slow, but with practice I’ll improve. At least, I hope to,” he corrected modestly. “It’s possible, though, that I shan’t do as well as I should. The fact is, Harmon, I’m conscious of the variance of thought that exists between those in charge of the team and me. I approach the problem confronting us scientifically. They approach it in the old hit-or-miss style. I strive not to let the lack of--shall I say?--harmony trouble me, but I fear it does at times. So often, when the quarter-back signals one play, I know that the situation calls for another, and I fear that the absence of a sympathetic approval of the play demanded sometimes--ah--unconsciously reduces my enthusiasm for it. And, really, one must be thoroughly convinced of the propriety of a play before one can go into it wholeheartedly, just as one must be convinced as to any other act. You see what I mean, Harmon?” “Oh, absolutely,” answered Willard, “absolutely! But, really, McNatt, I wouldn’t trouble much about that. Seems to me you’ve been playing a mighty sweet game.” “You think so?” asked the other doubtfully. “I don’t know. If only it was possible to give reasoning thought to the conduct of the game! But it will come, I’m certain of that. Meanwhile I shall do the best I can.” “I’m sure of that,” said Willard earnestly. “There’s just one thing that might happen,” resumed McNatt as they strolled away from Academy, knitting his brows. “Some time that quarter-back--is his name Tarbox?” “Tarver, Gilbert Tarver,” replied Willard gravely.