“Good! We’ve got material here plenty good enough to build a winning team out of, fellows. Let’s do it. Let’s start to-day and build from the bottom up. There’s time enough. The material’s seasoned, only the arrangement will be new. Wistar, got a sheet of paper handy? All right. Put down the names of the fellows, all of them, and classify them as usual: linemen, ends, backs; and let me have the list when we go out. There’s one more thing I want to speak of. There’s been far too much fumbling going on. A certain amount of it’s to be expected at this season, but we’ve been overdoing it. Saturday’s game was lost through a fumble, and there were two others which, while recovered fortunately enough, shouldn’t have occurred. I want to get rid of that stuff, and if necessary I’ll go back to a half-hour of passing every afternoon. But I think it’s possible to cure weak fingers in another way. You’ll remember how in the poem of The Ancient Mariner the man who shot the albatross had it tied around his neck as punishment. Well, I propose to adopt a somewhat similar plan. After this too many fumbles will result in the offender carrying a football around with him wherever he goes: classes, meals, off the campus, everywhere; and at night it will sit beside him on a chair at the head of his bed. This isn’t an original idea; it’s been tried before; but I think it ought to work. Will you fellows agree to it and make it effective?” Agreement was hearty. The idea amused them and, since the discourse had hitherto been too serious to allow of levity, they laughed uproariously. Mr. Cade smiled, too, but the smile was rather grim. “That’s all, fellows,” he said. “Let’s go out and make up for lost time.” That afternoon practice went off as usual on a Monday, with the accent on formation drill and the players in Saturday’s game being excused thereafter. The Second Team engaged a team of substitutes and won handily in two ten-minute periods. Bert played right half in the first period and gave way to Keys in the second. Neither of them performed any deeds calculated to raise their stock, yet Bert found encouragement in the fact that Coach Cade had selected him to start the scrimmage. That made it look as if in the coach’s estimation he and Keys were about on a par. A rather garbled and exaggerated version of Mr. Cade’s remarks circulated about school that evening, and the reactions were varied. Many dubbed the scheme as suicidal, declaring it too late in the season to start a reorganization of the team. Others favored the plan, sometimes remarking vindictively that it would serve some of those swelled-heads about right if they lost their positions. Then still others met the news with a pessimistic shrug. It didn’t much matter, they thought, what Coach Cade did. In any event the team was too rotten to be saved and another defeat at the hands of Kenly Hall was inevitable.