He moved forward toward the throng, eager for further details. Ranny did not stir. His face was blank, and his mind, usually so active, failed for a second or two to take in the meaning of what he had heard. When at length he realized the truth, a sense of grudging admiration stole over him. From one of those present at the affair last night he had had an unusually vivid account of the accident. He understood the risks the hitherto unknown rescuer had run, and fully appreciated his nerve and resourcefulness. For a flashing second he was filled with an impulse to follow Ward's example and add his brief word of congratulation to the chorus, but the impulse was only momentary. In a second or two he had crushed it back, passed the noisy group, and headed toward the football field alone. How absurd he had been even to think of such a thing! The details had probably been greatly exaggerated. Doubtless, Tompkins had merely blundered into the affair and done the right thing through sheer fool luck. At any rate, he still remained precisely the same individual whose presence Ranny had considered a blot on the appearance of the troop and likely to injure its "tone." There seemed to him no reason why this latest development should alter his treatment of the fellow a particle. Ward and the rest reached the field not long after Phelps, and no time was lost in commencing practice. Tompkins was started off with the scrub, an organization composed mostly of scouts who were too small or lazy or indifferent or unskilful to make the regular eleven, together with a few outsiders who had been persuaded into lending their aid merely for the fun of the game. It was a motley crowd, and Sherman had his hands full holding them together. One or two, to be sure, were stimulated by the hope, which grew fainter with each day of practice, that they might supplant some member of the regular team in time to play in _the_ game of the season, the struggle with the redoubtable Troop One, which would end the series and decide the championship. But the majority had no such dominating incentive. Their interest flagged continually, and it was only by a constant appeal to their scout spirit, by rebuke and ridicule, interspersed with well-timed jollying, that they could be kept to the scratch. When Dale Tompkins was given the position of right tackle, the boy whose place he had taken openly rejoiced, and not a few of his companions viewed the escape with envy.