“Well, even if he doesn’t know it, he can be taught, I guess. And we’ve got a whole lot of science now; what we need is beef.” “Burley looks more like an ass than a cow,” said Allan, disagreeably. Smiths stared. “Say, what’s he done to you, anyway? You seem to be beastly sore on him.” “I’ve told you what he’s done.” “Oh, that! Besides, he lugged you off the track; that’s nothing to get mad about, is it?” “I suppose not; I’m not mad about that--or anything else. He just--just makes me tired.” “Well, I’ll bet he’s our man.” Smiths jumped up and seized his cap. “I’ll run over and tell Poor.” “What, at this time of night?” “Pshaw! it’s only eleven-thirty. He’ll be glad to know about it.” “He’ll probably pitch you down-stairs, and serve you right.” “Not much he won’t. Good night.” “Good night,” answered Allan. “I’ve got some surgeon’s plaster, if you need it.” Hal Smiths slammed the door and took the front porch in one leap. Then the gate crashed. Allan listened intently. “That’s funny!” he muttered. “He must have missed the lamp-post!” He took up a book, found a pencil, and opened the table-drawer in search of a pad. As he did so, his eyes fell on a folded sheet of lined paper. He read the penciled words on it--“Peter Burley”--and, refolding it after a moment of indecision, tucked it back in a corner of the drawer, frowning deeply the while. Allan didn’t see Hal the next day; neither was the objectionable Burley visible on the field in the afternoon when Allan ran his first practise over the mile. Kernahan didn’t hold the watch on him, the distance was unfamiliar to him, and he lost all idea of his time after the fourth lap, and ended pretty well tuckered out. “All right,” said the trainer, when it was over. “You ran it a bit too fast at the start. But you’ll get onto it after a while.” On Friday Allan saw Hal only for an instant and had no chance to question him as to the result of his midnight visit to the freshman football captain. Consequently, it was not until Saturday that he learned of Burley’s appearance on the field as a candidate for admission into the freshman team. There was no track work that afternoon, since the Erskine varsity played State University. Allan went out to the field alone and watched the game from the season-ticket holders’ stand, and cheered quite madly when the Erskine quarter-back, availing himself for the first time of the new rules, seemed to pass the ball to a trio of plunging backs, and after an instant of delay set off almost alone around State’s left end with the pigskin cuddled in his arm, and flew down the field for over seventy yards to a touch-down.