Then the host flicked away the cloth from the table and there was an outburst of applause for what lay revealed. Sandwiches of many sorts, potted delectations, cakes and pastries, biscuits and cheese and much ginger ale. After that came a half-hour of earnest endeavour on the part of each and every one to ruin digestion, with Bob maintaining a sharp and yet lenient watch on the football fellows, to whom pastry was taboo. Bob’s “soiree” ended in a final burst of song that brought an apologetic warning from a proctor. Afterwards Dick and Stanley walked across to Sohmer humming the tune of Babe’s absurd jingle, Stanley breaking into words as they climbed the dormitory stairs: “I’ve got a lot of math to do, But I don’t think I will; would you? I’m so full of cake and pie I’d rather just lie down and die!” CHAPTER XVI MR. BATES PROTESTS That party in Captain Peters’ room has no bearing on the story save that it seemed to Dick to mark the beginning of a closer intimacy with the football crowd. He heard himself alluded to as Dick Bates, instead of Bates, and from that to Dick was a matter of only a few days. And there were other signs, too; as when, during practice on Wednesday, Kirkendall, relieved by Trask in the scrimmage, sank into the bench at Dick’s side, gave his knee a mighty and somewhat painful thump, grinned and relapsed into silence. Had “K” spoken Dick wouldn’t have thought so much of it. The fact that the big full-back considered words unnecessary meant so much more. There were some mighty sessions of work that week, for Coach Driscoll was smoothing out the First Team attack, adding a new play now and then, shifting his players experimentally and drilling, drilling, drilling until Dick sometimes awoke at night with the cry of “_Signals!_” in his ears. He had his full share of quarter-back work with B Squad and worked as hard and intelligently as he knew how. Such work was different at Parkinson than at Leonardville High. At the latter place playing quarter meant developing individual ability first and letting team-work look after itself in a measure. Here at Parkinson one was ground and filed and fitted into the eleven much as a machine part is fitted into the assembled whole, and one was a unit of the team first and an individual last. At first Dick had been disappointed over a reality so different from his secret expectations. Although he had openly professed humility and had told the fellows at Leonardville that he might not count for much in a football way at a school as large as Parkinson, yet he had never greatly doubted that his advent would be a matter of importance to the school, nor that he would find the path to glory broad and easy. He had outlived the surprise and disappointment, however, and was ready to defend the Parkinson system with his last breath, a system that played no favourites and judged only by results.