Dick liked Perry Hull’s looks at once and watched him carefully for a week. His lack of size was against him as a lineman and, in fact, left few positions open to him. He might have developed into a satisfactory substitute end had not Dick been quietly looking for a quarterback with more powers of initiative than Orson Kirke showed. Kirke was a good handler of the ball, was rather clever at gaining in a broken field and could follow directions implicitly. But, left to himself, he never knew what to do and was liable to make the most stupid blunders in the matter of choosing plays. He had been third-string quarter the year before and had been used only when both Putnam, the regular quarter, and Cottrell, the first substitute, were unable to play. Dick didn’t fancy Kirke as the sole proxy in the Springdale game and seized on Perry Hull eagerly as soon as he had sized up that youth. Hull was placed in the hands of Chester Cottrell for development and inside of a few days had proved Dick’s acumen. Already, on the eve of the Logan contest, Hull was the logical candidate for first substitute quarterback, and Orson Kirke, who had theretofore looked on himself as certain incumbent of that position, was ruefully doing his best to outpace the usurper. Just now Kirke might be said to be still a full lap behind. Dick’s ability to connect player and position was in a way remarkable. His sleight-of-hand trick in making Guy Felker, who had been playing fullback for two years, into a competent end was still marveled at, and his elevation of Partridge from the Scrub to the First Squad had been equally successful. And now the school was watching with almost breathless interest his experiment of molding a finished quarterback from the raw material. In fact, the school found a good deal to wonder at that Fall with regard to Dick. The Norrisville game had proved pretty conclusively, fellows considered, that they had made no mistake in their choice of a coach. Those who had openly scoffed were now either silent or frankly admiring, while those who had hailed Dick’s advent from the first were now noisily triumphant. The question one heard on every hand was “How does Lovering know so much football when he has never played it and never had anything to do with it?”