Before Chick’s footfalls had entirely died away beyond the closed door that smile had faded to an expression of uneasiness. Bert had joked about Mooney’s and the frequenters of Mooney’s, about the cigarettes and the ten o’clock bed hour, but those things were really threatening to cause him some concern. Chick was different this fall, he reflected now, jabbing tiny holes in a blotter with the sharp point of the pencil. Perhaps being a senior made you that way. Football, which had been an all-absorbing interest to Chick last year and the year before that, now seemed to have small appeal for him. Of course, Chick had felt badly about missing the captaincy last winter; had, in conversation with Bert, been rather bitter about it; but this present careless, don’t-give-a-whoop attitude toward the team and his job on it was unexpected. Last year, for instance, Chick wouldn’t have smoked a cigarette during the season if some one had offered him cigarette, match and a thousand dollars! Nor would he have protested against the ten o’clock bed rule. And--Bert shook his head at this reflection--he wouldn’t have played as listlessly as he had played this afternoon. To Bert, who had been trying two seasons for a position on the team, the honor of being selected from among some four hundred fellows to represent Alton Academy on the football field was something to work for and make sacrifices for and, if won, to be mighty proud of! Perhaps Chick was too sure of his position, Bert reflected. Last year he had played a rather remarkable game toward the latter part of the season and had been largely instrumental in securing the lone touchdown which, with a field-goal by Nip Storer, one of the half-backs, represented Alton’s earnings in the disastrous Kenly Hall contest. Chick had been wonderful on defense and had spoiled more than one Kenly dash in the direction of the Alton line. On attack he had performed his share, too, for it was his catch of a long forward-pass that had made it possible for Jim Galvin, substituting for the first-string full-back in the second quarter, to smash his way across the Cherry-and-Black’s line. Chick had been a fine and gallant warrior that day, and Bert warmed toward him at the recollection until his present shortcomings seemed of no importance. It had been Chick, too, who had swooped down on a loose ball in the last few minutes of the game and raced off up the long field, dodging, side-stepping, twirling, to the enemy’s twelve yards before he was pulled down from behind. That Alton had failed lamentably to gain a foot on the next four plays detracted not at all from Chick’s heartening performance. Indeed, that brief threat had somehow made the pill of defeat less bitter to the Gray-and-Gold that drizzling November evening. Kenly Hall had won that contest by 16 to 9 with a team that was a better all-around eleven than Alton’s. The latter had shown fine moments, feats of brilliance, daring