The following fall at the University was a trying one for it was darned hard to get back to the studies after such a bully good time tramping over Europe. There wasn't much midnight oil wasted, for I was too full of football. Ten good men were trying for my place on the team, and consequently it took all of my time to hold down left-half on the 'varsity eleven. Well, I won, and we had some dandy times on the trips that season. Warner, Cornell's old coach, trained us that fall and he had a fine lot of material to pick from. After we had played the Thanksgiving game, with the University of Virginia, I returned home, and remaining there only a few days, departed for Washington, D. C., where I secured a position with the _Washington Times_. While at the Naval Academy on a football trip, the year before, I met a young chap by the name of Anderson. He came to Washington in January shortly after being expelled from the Academy for hazing and proposed to me that we two hit it for the West together. This idea struck me in the right place and at the right time, for I had been contemplating another chase over some part of the world. He was from the Naval Academy and I from the University of North Carolina, but then and there we joined forces to matriculate in that larger, but less select college--the University of Experience. I, of course, had had more training in that school than Anderson, but I knew that he'd be game to the last. Of all my experiences, I dare say that not the least adventurous I ever butted into was when in company with Will Anderson, I boarded the train at Washington and began our journey toward the setting sun.