"I'm not an object of charity," he exclaimed hotly. "But it's not charity," protested his chum. "We shall need your advice between halves. Because of that, the boys are willing to pay your way. It's for the good of Baxter." "No, it isn't, Buttons. I'm obliged to you all, of course. But you ought to know that if my expenses are paid I'll be practically in the position of a professional coach. That would prevent my playing on the School Team next year--and I want to do that." Before this new angle in the case Buttons was silent, and in despair the boys gave up trying to persuade Fred to go with the team. At last the eventful day of the contests arrived. Bright and early the boys and girls, some accompanied by their fathers and mothers, flocked to the station. And with their school flags and colors they presented a brilliant scene, laughing and talking merrily. As the members of the different teams arrived, they were greeted with hearty cheers, and were immediately surrounded by their friends, who offered advice and good wishes. Attracting as little attention as he could, Fred moved among the happy throng until he caught sight of Taffy, to whom he beckoned. Walking with him to one end of the platform, he was talking to him earnestly when several of the students espied him and surged toward him, declaring they would take him with them by force. Good-naturedly, Fred was trying to escape from them, when Bart suddenly forced his way close to his rival. "The boys seem to want you to go with them, but I understand you're too poor. Here's ten dollars--enough to carry you down and back and leave you something besides," he exclaimed, at the same time extending a bill to Fred. A gasp of amazement ran through the crowd of students and their elders, then in expectant silence they stared at the fair-haired boy. Flushing scarlet, Fred quivered as though he would leap at the brutal bully, then turned on his heel and resumed his talk with Taffy. "As I was saying," he began, his voice trembling with emotion, "you must watch out for Phil Thomas, the Landon left guard. He'll try to make Bart's nose bleed--the way he did last year. If he does, Bart'll lose his head and the game will be lost." More than two score of people were within earshot of these words, and as they realized that the boy who had been so wantonly insulted in public had not allowed his personal feelings to outweigh his desire to have Baxter win, they broke into hearty cheers, many of them pressing forward to shake Fred's hands. "Ouch! this hurts more than the other!" he exclaimed, and, wriggling like an eel, he slipped from the crowd with the same skill that made him so hard a runner to tackle on the football gridiron.