Seeing how set Judd was against returning to school, Bob wisely refrained from forcing the issue. He was glad that Judd had instantly reacted to the charge of "quitter." As long as a fellow had the fight spirit in him there was some hope. "I'm going out for a little workout with the football tonight," Bob informed, "Got to keep in training, you know. Like to come out and chase the ball for me?" Judd consented begrudgingly but, before Bob's practice was over, he began to betray genuine interest. Bob showed him how to throw the pigskin and he found it great fun to lay the ball on his hand and sail it through the air in spiral flight after recovering Bob's kicks. "Say, Judd!" Bob called, "You might get down the field and catch these punts. It'll save you chasing them after they strike." Judd moved slowly to the place Bob indicated, not wanting to reveal his growing interest too plainly. Bob kicked. The ball, turning end over end, carried almost exactly to the place Judd was standing. He moved a few steps to the side and reached up his arms but his judgment of distance was poor. The ball struck him a smarting blow in the face and bounced away. Judd, over-balanced, fell to the ground. Bob trotted up to Judd and dragged him to his feet. "What's the matter, Buddy?" Judd showed him the spot over his eye, a slight skin bruise. "Oh, why that's nothing. Come on, let's try another." Bob picked up the ball. "No ... see ... it's bleeding." Judd displayed some drops of blood on his handkerchief. "I reckon I'd better go to the room and sterilize it, I don't want to get blood poisoning, you know." Bob laughed. "Tommy rot! Whoever gave you such silly ideas? Forget it!" Judd's feelings were wounded. "You can't tell what'll happen if you don't take care of yourself. I heard of a fellah once..." "See here, Judd! Get those wild imaginings out of your head. How far do you think we'd get in this world if every time a little thing happened to us we sat down to worry about it and to think up lots worse things happening?" But Judd was done for the afternoon. He turned and walked away, dabbing his handkerchief tenderly to the bruise and sympathizing with himself. He should have known better than to have played with Bob. He might have been sure that something like this would happen. There were so many things that a fellow had to watch out for! But after Judd had reached the apartment and looked at himself in the glass and been convinced that his hurt did not amount to so much after all, he reflected--with a smile--that chasing the football had been real sport.