The heavy weight was beautifully built and exceedingly quick for his size. He came to college with a good prep-school record of centre rush. But there was something disappointing about him, and you felt it every time you saw him move. You know the kind. One of those fellows who are splendid to look at in a football suit, and who will always put up a fair game on the scrub, but who are never going to make the 'Varsity. Just now he was biting his lip and looking down at his own good legs. When he raised his glance he found Hill standing with arms akimbo, gazing at him with an earnest expression. Bushforth smiled good-humoredly to show how cool he was. "Think you can take that cane?" Hill asked with a grin. "I really don't know, Hill," answered the beautifully built man. "Do you think you can take it?" repeated the other. "Well, Hill, Parker will have to work for it," said the heavy weight, indulgently. "Why? Would you like to take my place? I'd be glad to resign in your favor." "All right," said Hill, simply. He began pulling up his sweater. "Go on and sit down and stop your nonsense." It was hard to stand horse-play at such a moment, when your whole class was cheering for you outside. "I ain't fooling," said the big farmer, with his arms still in the sweater, his head and body out. "Hurry, Bush," said one of the juniors at the window. "The sophs have yelled across at me that they are ready." "All right," said Bushforth, lacing his Jersey as he started for the door. He forgot to answer the other freshman. "Wait a minute," said the big, cheerful voice of the farmer, "I think I'll go down this time." "Oh, cork up, you big cow!" said Drake. Hill corked up and then pushed Bushforth out of the way and started for the door. "Will you please go back where you belong and sit down?" said Drake, impressively. It failed to impress Hill. "Well, you see, it's this way," he began pleasantly, "he can't take that cane, I'm afraid. I can, though. I've got my blood up." He began contracting his biceps playfully. "Isn't it time to----" "Freshman," interrupted Drake, with irony, "we have chosen the heavy weight representative of your class, and we are of the opinion that we know about as much of this business as you do. I never heard of such foolishness. Go sit down, and shut your big face. Your services will not be required unless Billy is laid off before he reaches the foot of the entry stairs. Come on, Billy." "Then," Hill answered, smilingly, "I'll have to lay him off." He suddenly grabbed his big classmate by the shoulders, jerked him back into his arms, grasped him like a bag of flour, and hoisted him on his shoulders as if he had been one. "Now you lie down there, and be a good boy." He dropped Bushforth, but not roughly, in the corner behind the door, and then looked beamingly about at the others as though he had performed quite a feat. And so he had. Bushforth weighed one hundred and eighty-nine, stripped.