Monday afternoon marked the last day of scrimmage for the varsity. Coach Phillips had decided to spend the remaining two days at secret signal practice. Consequently the college turned out almost to a man to watch their idol pigskin chasers maul the scrubs as a final demonstration of their ability to whip Pennington. Inspired by the wild cheers of the student body and the realization that the season's biggest game was only two days distant, the varsity fairly outdid itself. But the faithful second team was resolved to make the varsity earn every touchdown that they secured and fought fiercely to stop each play. For fifteen minutes the battered seconds withstood the onslaught and actually succeeded in pushing across a touchdown themselves. After this the game became a rout and finally ended in a 56 to 7 score. Both elevens left the field, physically fit and in good spirits, but dead tired. "Whew!" gasped Benz, throwing a shoe the length of the locker room, "Talk about marathon races! I'll bet I ran ten or twenty miles up and down the field scoring touchdowns." "Great snakes! Did you hear that, guys?" broke in Knox, a second string man, "The swelled head only scored two touchdowns himself and yet he runs ten or twenty miles! What were you doing, Benz, playing solitaire?" "Never you mind," retorted Benz, amid laughter; then, seeing a way out: "Possibly, Knox, you have never heard of Miles Standish. That's the kind of Miles I run." "Zowie!" "Take him out!" "Stow it!" "As bright as mud!" "Call a doctor!" "A cold shower for that!" shouted Neil, "That stuff is too deep for we'uns!" A dozen hands seized the unwilling Benz and thrust him cruelly under a cold, cold shower. "B-r-r-r-r-r! Let me out!" sputtered Benz, making a tremendous struggle. "I don't mind the cold but that water is wet!" "A double dose for that!" howled Pole, and Benz was forced to submit to another flood of H2O. He was finally released and took his punishment good naturedly. The fun went on, first one, and then the other of the fellows being made the object for humorous attack. Of a sudden the locker door opened and Coach Phillips stepped in. Instantly all laughing and talking ceased. Fellows in half-dressed attitudes hesitated before proceeding. It was evident by the look on Coach Phillips' face that he had something important to say. "Any of the fellows left yet?" "No!" "Good!" snapped the coach. "I have a little something that I want to say to you all before you go. I--" "Ouch! Have a heart!" Benz had unwittingly slapped Pole across the small of the back with a wet bath towel. A titter of laughter went up. "Benz, stop that fooling and pay attention!" Coach Phillips' voice was unusually hard and penetrating.