“It isn’t only that, because some of the fellows who played to-day――or tried to――weren’t so blamed big, but that Otis dumb-bell can’t see any fellow outside the little bunch he’s nursed from last year. The trouble with us is we’re outsiders, Clif. What we need is advertising, I guess. Say, that’s an idea! Let’s put an ad in next week’s _Lantern_. Something like this: ‘Mr. Clifton Bingham and Mr. Thomas Kemble present their compliments to the Football Committee, and Coaches, and solicit their patronage.’ Hold on, though. This is better: ‘Experienced end and clever half-back want positions on Football Team. Interview arranged. Address “Neglected,” care _Lantern_.’ How’s that?” “I don’t believe the Committee ever reads the _Lantern_,” said Clif. “They ought to, for it’s a very truthful publication. Like last week when it said that sixty-something candidates were ‘frying for the Team.’ Maybe it meant to say ‘trying,’ but, considering the weather, it was dead right. Well, the best we can expect, Clif, is to make the Second; and we may get left there!” “I don’t see how. They’ve got to have somebody for it, and if Mr. Otis makes another cut Monday, as they say he’s going to, there won’t be many left.” “Huh! Maybe we’ll be among the――the cutees! Oh, well, never say die. Let’s go down and see what they’re getting on the radio.” There was a brand-new notice on the board outside the locker room door on Monday when Clif reached the gymnasium, and his heart missed a beat as he stopped to read it. He was alone, since Tom had a late recitation, and he was glad of it just then. “Attention Football Candidates,” he read. “The following players will report to Coach Babcock on Second Team field at 3:30 Monday: Adams, Ames, Bingham――” Clif drew a long breath. His feelings oddly combined disappointment and relief. For the first moment disappointment was uppermost, but then the realization that he had long since discounted being dropped from the First Team, and that as lately as Saturday evening he had been doubtful of making the Second, produced a reaction. He guessed he was pretty lucky, after all. There were only some twenty names on this list, which meant that fully a dozen fellows had been dropped completely. Then his eyes hurried down the first column and across to the second. “Howlett, Jackson, Kemble――” Good! Tom had made it, too! Then, as he went on into the locker room, it occurred to him that perhaps Tom wouldn’t be as gratified as he was. Perhaps Tom, in spite of his pessimistic utterances, had secretly expected to be retained on the First! But later in the afternoon Tom scouted the idea with convincing sincerity.