"It's all right, Dick, old man," replied Paul, but in fainter tones than he was in the habit of using. "I'm just a little under the weather I guess. I'll be on the active list again soon." "I hope so," murmured the captain, with the memory of the impending Blue Hill game. Paul was one of his best players--one who could always be depended on in an emergency--one who always had some "go" left in him, when it seemed that mortal flesh and bone could do no more. He could tear through the line, and break up interference better than any guard Dick had ever seen, and for nailing the man with the ball Paul was a star. No wonder the young captain did not want to lose him. "Is it anything serious, Doctor?" asked Dick. "I hope not," replied Dr. Fenwick. "I don't like some of his symptoms, but they may pass away." "How did it happen--how did it come on?" inquired the young millionaire. "Oh, I hadn't felt well all day," replied the plucky left guard, "but I didn't think anything of it. Then a little while ago I suddenly felt dizzy, and before I knew what was happening I keeled over--fell on the floor. Brooks, in the next room, heard me, and came rushing in. He got the doctor--that's all I know." "And I wasn't here?" exclaimed Dick reproachfully. "I fancy it is only due to an upset condition of the stomach," put in the physician. "He has an attack of vertigo, which is not uncommon. There, Mr. Drew, I'll leave this medicine, and look in on you in the morning. If you need me in the night don't hesitate to send for me." "I'll look after him," promised Dick. The physician and orderly were about to leave when several of the cadets who had been in Beeby's room, and who wondered at Dick's sudden desertion, came trooping in, to ask all sorts of questions concerning Paul. "Now, young gentlemen, this won't do!" insisted the doctor cheerfully but firmly. "Mr. Drew must be kept quiet. He is in no danger, and you'll have to leave." They did, after nodding pleasantly to the sick lad, and then Dick began a vigil of the night. "Jove! I hope Drew doesn't go back on us in the Blue Hill game," remarked Dutton. "It would sort of break us up, even though Berkfeld fills in pretty well at guard," spoke George Hall. As for the worriment of the young captain, only he himself realized the depth of it. Paul was restless all night, and had a slight fever. Dick was a faithful nurse, administering the medicine regularly. Once his patient was delirious, and murmured something about matters at home. Again he fancied himself on the gridiron, and called out: "Touchdown! Touchdown! We've got to make a touchdown! That's it. Go through the line now!" "Poor Paul," murmured Dick. "I'm afraid it will be quite a while before you play again." Twice, when the lad's condition seemed worse, Dick was on the point of sending for Dr. Fenwick, but he refrained and the spell passed over.