In spite of a slight pain in his ankle, Dick never ran the team to better advantage than he did in practice that day. "Oh, for to-morrow!" he exclaimed to Paul in their room that night. What crowds there were! They overflowed the grandstands and surged upon the space around the Kentfield gridiron. They stood several deep along the ropes stretched to keep them back, and still they poured through the entrance gates to the delight of the cadets. "We'll make some money all right off this game!" exulted Manager Hatfield. "And we need it, even if we have a millionaire on the team." "No, we can't expect Dick to do it all," said Paul. "He's mighty good to hire the coaches," commented George Hall. "Oh, say, if we can only win! Has the Haskell bunch arrived yet?" "No, but they'll soon be here. Come on, our fellows are going to get in practice." Out on the field trotted the Kentfield eleven, with the score of substitutes, wrapped, Indian-like in blankets, squatting on the side lines, until such time as they would be needed to form some opposition for the Varsity. This soon came, for the coaches, after putting the boys through some recently evolved formations, called on the scrub. Then the practice was harder. A roar burst from a thousand throats as the Haskell team trotted out, for they had brought many supporters with them. Then came cheer after cheer--cheers for Kentfield and for their opponents. "They're a husky lot all right," observed Dutton grimly, as the Kentfield cadets ceased their practice to "size-up" their foes. "And beefy," added John Stiver. "Oh, say, don't get heart-disease so soon," advised Dick with a laugh. "Wait until you see us walk through 'em." The preliminaries were soon arranged, and luck was with Dick for he won the toss and selected the east goal, with what wind there was in his favor. This gave the ball to Haskell to be kicked off, and a few minutes later, the twenty-two sturdy youths took the field. Dick placed his men with care, and gave an anxious look all about him, as the Haskell centre "teed" the new yellow ball on a little mound of earth on the middle line. Shrilly blew the whistle, and a moment later there was a dull "thump!" as the toe of the big centre rush found the pigskin, and sent it well into Kentfield's territory. Ray Dutton caught it, and, tucking the spheroid under his arm he sprinted down over the chalkmarks, gathering speed at every stride. "Cover him, fellows! Cover him!" yelled Dick, and the right half-back's supporters gathered in front of him as well as they could. But the opposition streamed through. Dutton ran on until in front of him loomed Peters, the gigantic right guard of Haskell, and then the plucky cadet ran no more, for he was heavily thrown. But the ball had been carried back to Kentfield's forty-yard mark. "Line up, boys!" yelled Dick. "Go through 'em now."