The _Flubdub’s_ effusion is set forth here, out of chronological order, merely to show how judgments differ. There were others who viewed the Lorimer game with less enthusiasm; as, for instance, Slim and Leonard. Slim made a wry face and shrugged his shoulders. “Just plain robbery,” said the left end. “We hadn’t any more right to take that game than--than nothing at all! Talk about stealing the baby’s rattle! Why, bless my soul, General, the only reason that ‘39’ play succeeded was because it went wrong! I was supposed to box that end of theirs, Kellog, and he wouldn’t box. By rights, he ought to have swung around back of me and spoiled the picture. Just by luck he didn’t, and Cricket got by and squirmed loose. That wasn’t good football, son, it was good luck. We played pretty fairly punk, the lot of us, although we did do a bit better after Appel took the helm. Bee isn’t the player Carpenter is, but he certainly can run the team a sight better, if you want my opinion. As for me, I don’t mind owning that I was rotten. But all the others were, too, so I don’t feel so badly. Even your friend Renneker did more heavy looking on than anything else, so far as I could see.” “I’m afraid I can’t claim him as a friend,” said Leonard. “He’s never known me since we parted in the cab that day.” “Well, I’m beginning to sour on that handsome guy as a tackle. Looks to me like he was touched with frost!” At about the same time that Saturday evening Rus Emerson was seated in Coach Cade’s front room in the old white house opposite the school gate on Academy street. Johnny sat at one side of a big mahogany table and Rus at the other, and each was slumped well down on his spine as if he had put in a hard day’s work. The soft light of the lamp left their faces in shadow. The coach was speaking. “Who makes up these All-Scholastic Football Teams, Cap?” he inquired. “The papers, I guess. That is, the sports editors.” “Reckon they make mistakes now and then?” “I wouldn’t wonder.” Rus smiled gently in the shadow. “H’m.” There was silence a moment. Then: “He certainly looks good,” continued the coach almost wistfully. “I don’t know that I ever saw a chap who came nearer to looking the part of a clever, hard-fighting lineman. Why, just on appearances you’d pick him out of a crowd and shake hands with yourself.” “He certainly does look the part,” agreed Rus. “And maybe he will find his pace after a bit.”