“Oh, they glowed, you know, in the dark, and showed where the switch was.” McNatt tossed the empty bottle to the table. “Trouble was they didn’t always glow when you wanted them to and sometimes you had to stand around and wait quite a while.” Seated again, McNatt tilted back in his chair and observed Willard thoughtfully for a moment. Then: “Returning to the subject we were discussing the other day, Harmon,” he announced, “I’ve been sort of outlining a system along the lines we spoke of. I haven’t gone into it thoroughly, of course, but I’ve estimated that the number of possible situations in a football game approximate one hundred and sixty. I may be slightly in error, of course, for I haven’t played recently and there have been several alterations in the rules, but I’m not far out of the way. That number includes situations occurring both in attack and defense. I’ve got a rough summary here somewhere.” He began to rummage over the table. “It’s a piece of yellow paper. Is it on your side anywhere? Now I wonder what I did with it. Well, never mind, it’ll show up again some day. Anyway, my idea would be to--ah--catalogue them, as one might say, according to their locations on the field of play. I’d divide the gridiron into, say, ten zones longitudinally and three zones laterally, giving thirty areas in all. Numbering--perhaps lettering would be better, though: lettering such area-- Have you got to go?” “Yes, I’m afraid so,” replied Willard. “I--it’s getting along toward six o’clock. I’d like to hear about it some other time, though, McNatt. I say, why don’t you come over to my room some evening and let Mart Proctor hear it? He’d be awfully interested, I’m sure. Mart’s on the team, too, you know; plays guard. I wish you would.” “Why, I don’t visit around much,” answered the other hesitantly, as he reached for the knob that unbolted the door. “I don’t have time, you see, and just now I’m most interested in mycology, Harmon. By the way, don’t forget about that mushroom supper we’re going to have!” CHAPTER XII “DO YOUR BEST” Friday dawned fair and warm, and Willard, looking forth from a window while dressing, smilingly pictured McNatt, far afield, gathering mushrooms from the sunlit meadows. One thing, however, was certain, Willard reflected, and that was that the enthusiastic McNatt would never induce him to partake of that mushroom supper! Yesterday he might perhaps have taken a chance, but today life was too well worth living.