“Yes, but I don’t think you need to worry about that. You’ll get along all right, Bert. I have a hunch that Johnny’s going in for a fast backfield this year, and when it comes to speed you’ve got it all over some of the chaps. It was that lot of heavy, slow backs that spilled the beans for us last year, if you make inquiry of me. Things went a heap better in the last quarter, after some of those truck horses had quit!” “I’d hate to go back to the Second,” mused Bert. “Gosh, you can find more things to worry about!” laughed the other. “Last week you were afraid you were going to break a leg or something. You’re the original calamity howler, Bert!” Bert smiled. “I suppose it’s because I want so hard to make good this year, Chick,” he answered apologetically. “You’re going to, old scout, so buck up. Not that you’ve any right to expect it, either. Most fellows don’t get a position nailed down until their senior year.” “You did. And so did Lowe.” “Exceptions proving the rule, Bert. As for Jonas, I’ll say he played in a good deal of luck last fall. If Peabody hadn’t gone bad on account of studies and getting all worked up over the way Mac and the rest of the Faculty nagged him there for a while Jonas would still be a sub, I’ll bet. Mind you, Bert, I’m not saying he isn’t a good player when he gets started, but no one would have discovered it if Dick had held his job. Why, up to the Lorimer game or after Jonas was kicking his heels on the bench more times than he was playing!” “Yes, I guess there was some luck in that,” acknowledged Bert. “But Jonas certainly filled Peabody’s place mighty nicely after he got it. Who’s going to make left end position this fall, Chick?” “Left end? Why, I guess Joe Tate’s pretty certain of it. Just as certain as I am of right end.” Chick’s laugh suggested that there wasn’t much doubt in his mind about that! “Kruger was awfully good Saturday for the little while he played,” said Bert. “Oh, Dutch is good, too. One of the best. But I guess Joe’s got it cinched. Where you’re going to see some surprises, though, before Johnny has knocked the outfit into shape is between Joe and center. Meecham won’t last at guard and I wouldn’t give an awful lot for Andy Dozier’s chance at tackle. Unless I miss my guess Nat Wick will have Meecham out of there inside of a fortnight.” “But Dozier’s a crackajack, Chick! Why, last year--” “All right, but what happened in the Kenly game? They ripped him to pieces in just about twenty minutes, didn’t they?” “I heard he was sick. Some one said he was up in Patten’s room for an hour that morning and Lum and two or three others were dosing him with everything from hair oil to Seidlitz powders! I remember myself that he looked like the dickens just before lunch.” “Funk, probably. I’ve seen fellows worse than he was before a big game. They get over it by the time to start. Gosh, I’ve been sort of teetery myself!”