Promptly at three o'clock Coach Morton called for order. Then, after a very few remarks, he called for the names of all who intended to enter the football training squad for this season. "And let every fellow who thinks he's lazy, or who doesn't like to train hard and obey promptly, keep his name off the list," warned the coach dryly. "I've come to the conclusion that what we need in this squad is Army discipline. We're going to have it this year! Now, young gentlemen, come along with your names---those of you who really believe you can stand Spartan training." "I think I might draw the line at having the fox---or was it a wolf---gnawing at my entrails, as one Spartan had to take it," laughed one youngster. "Guess again, or you'd better stay off the squad this year," laughed the coach. "This is going to be a genuinely rough season for all weaklings." There was a quick making up of the roll. "Tomorrow afternoon, at three sharp, you'll all report on the athletic field," announced Coach Morton, when he had finished writing down the names. "Any man who fails to show up tomorrow afternoon will have his name promptly expunged from the squad rolls. No excuses will be accepted for failure tomorrow." There was a crispness about that which some of the fellows didn't like. "Won't a doctor's certificate of illness go?" asked one fellow laughingly. "It will go---not," retorted coach. "Pill-takers and fellows liable to chills aren't wanted on this year's team, anyway. Now, young gentlemen, I'm going to give you a brief talk on the general art of taking care of yourselves, and the art of keeping yourselves in condition." The talk that followed seemed to Dick Prescott very much like a repetition of what Coach Luce had said to them the winter before, at the commencement of indoor training for baseball. As he finished talking on health and condition Mr. Morton drew from one of his pockets a bunch of folded papers. "I am now," he continued, "going to present to each one of you a set of rules, principles, guides---call them what you will. On this paper each one of you will find laid down rules that should be burned into the memories of all young men who aspire to play football. Do not lose your copies of these rules. Read the rules over again and again. Memorize them! Above all, put every rule into absolute practice." Then, at a sign, the young men passed before the coach to receive their printed instructions. "Something new you've gotten up, Mr. Morton?" inquired one of the fellows. "No," the coach admitted promptly. "These rules aren't original with me. I ran across 'em, and I've had them printed, by authority from the Athletics Committee. I wish I had thought up a set of rules as good." As fast as they received their copies each member of the squad darted away to read the rules through. This is what each man found on the printed sheet: