mollified. "If you didn't know, that's different. Only another time you'd better see Mr. Robey and get permission to cut. You see, Thayer, at this time of year we need all the fellows we can get. Maybe you think you're not very important out there, but that isn't the way of it at all. Everyone counts. You are all--ah--you are all parts of the--ah--machine, if you see my drift, Thayer, and if one part is missing, why--ah--Well, you see what I mean?"

"Yes, of course. I'll remember the next time."

"Well, I wouldn't let there be any next time if I were you. To be frank, Thayer, Robey doesn't like fellows to cut. If you do it much he's awfully likely to tell you to--ah--stay away altogether!"

"Well, in my case--" began Clint, with a smile.

"Now today," went on Black, "Robey wanted you for the second when Tyler got hurt and you weren't there and we had to play a second squad half-back at tackle. Robey didn't like it and jumped on me about it. And of course I had to tell him that I hadn't given any cuts. I'm not supposed to, anyway, but he seemed to think that maybe I had. If you don't mind, Thayer, it wouldn't be a bad idea to tell him if he asks you that you were--ah--sick, you know."

"Do you mean," asked Clint incredulously, "that he wanted me to play on the second this afternoon?"

"Yes, you see Tyler got an awful bat on the head and he's out of the game for several days, I guess. It's none of my business, in a way, of course, but, if you don't mind me saying so, Thayer, it's a poor idea to let chances get by. If you'd been there today you might have had a slice of luck and found yourself on the second for keeps. A fellow's got to be on the qui vive all the time and not miss any chances, old chap."

"I reckon that's so," agreed Clint regretfully. "You don't think he will want me for the second tomorrow, Black?"

"Oh, maybe. You be there, anyhow. And if he asks you you'd better fake sickness, I think."

"I dare say he won't remember by tomorrow," said Clint. "But if he does--"

"Don't bank on that," replied Black, shaking his head. "Robey has a fierce memory. You'll find that out for yourself if you stay around awhile longer."

"If I do," murmured Clint.

"Well, I think you will unless you get Robey down on you by too many cuts."

"Really?" Clint asked eagerly.

"Sure. You see most fellows want to be backs or ends; about eight out of ten want to be half-backs and the ninth wants to be either full-back or end. The tenth fellow is willing to play in the line."

"Oh," said Clint. "And how about quarters?"

"You have to almost beg 'em to try for quarter-back. I don't know why, but almost every fellow is leery of that position. Usually a coach makes a quarter out of a fellow who thinks he's a born half or end. Well, I must beat it. See you tomorrow, then?"

"Yes, indeed, I'll be there!" replied Clint earnestly. "Thanks for coming around."

"Oh, that's all right. All in the way of duty, you know. So long!"

Clint thoughtfully placed a marker in his book and closed it.

"That's a good afternoon's work," he reflected, "but if it's lost me a place on the second--" He shook his head ruefully. Then he smiled.

"Gee," he murmured, "I don't know whether I'm more scared of Mr. Simkins or Mr. Robey!"

The next day he made such a satisfactory showing in Greek that Mr. Simkins took him back into his good graces. "Ha, Thayer," he said, "you lead me to suspect that you spent a little time on your lesson last evening. I am not doing you an injustice, Thayer?"

"No, sir, I put in two hours on it."

"Marvellous! Is there any other member of the class who wasted so much of his time in such manner? Raise your hands, please. One--two--three--Burgess, you hesitate, do you not? Ah, I thought so! You were merely going to scratch your head. Wise youth, Burgess. Scratch hard. Set up a circulation if possible. Hm. That will do, Thayer. Burgess, if it is not asking too much--"

Unfortunately--or perhaps fortunately--Clint's showing on this occasion was accepted by Mr. Simkins as a standard to which future performances were required to conform. "What has been done once may be done again, Thayer," he would inform him. And Clint, not being able to deny the logic of this statement, was forced to toil harder than ever. But there came a time, though it was not yet, when he found that his difficulties were lessening, that an hour accomplished what it had taken two to accomplish before; and that, in short, Greek, while not a study to enthuse over, had lost most of its terrors. But all that, as I say, came later, and for many weeks yet "Uncle Sim" pursued Clint in his dreams and the days when he had a Greek recitation were dreaded ones.

The afternoon following that on which he had absented himself from practice saw Clint approaching the field at three-thirty with misgivings. He feared that Coach Robey would remember his defection against him and at the same time he knew that he would feel flattered if the coach did! The question was soon settled, for Clint had no more than reached the bench when Mr. Robey's eyes fell on him.

"Thayer!"

"Yes, sir!" Clint hurried toward him.

"Where were you yesterday?"

"In my room, sir. I had--"

"Sick?"

"No, sir, I wanted to--"

"Anyone tell you you might cut practice?"

"No, sir, I didn't know--"

"Never mind what you knew or didn't know. You know now that if you stay away again without permission you'll get dropped. That's all."

Clint returned to the bench contentedly. After all he was, it seemed, not such an unimportant unit as he had supposed! Later he discovered that Tyler was not present and hoped so hard that he would fall heir to that disabled player's position on the second squad that he fell under the disfavour of the third squad quarter-back and was twice called down for missing signals.

And then, when, finally, the first and second lined up for a twenty-minute scrimmage, he saw the coveted place again filled by the substitute half-back and found himself sitting, blanket-wrapped, on the bench!

Tracey Black, catching his eye between periods, smiled sympathetically. Tracey could have told him that Coach Robey was punishing him for yesterday's misdemeanour, but he didn't, and the explanation didn't occur to Clint. And the latter followed the rest back to the gymnasium after practice was over, feeling very dejected, and was such poor company all evening that Amy left him in disgust at nine and sought more cheerful scenes.