ever struck on the Tate grounds. The three Tate runners raced across the plate. As Lamb, his head modestly lowered, followed, the Tate supporters were already out in the field. Fifty eager pairs of arms reached for him. The historic snake dance formed, Lamb riding precariously amid it all. And the scoreboard read Tate 4, Union State 3.
But, after all, it was in still another rôle that "Speedy" Lamb preferred himself. A rôle in which he could do no less heroic labors for Good Old Tate than as football or baseball hero. For had not the Tate "Tattler" carried the account of the mass meeting at which Chester Trask, captain of the football and baseball teams, had said, "You cheer leaders, you fellows in the cheering section, can do as much toward beating Union State as we eleven men down there on the field. You'll be fighting for Good Old Tate when you're yelling your heads off up there in the stands. It's put new courage in the team, I can tell you, to sit up here and listen to the way you've cheered and sung to-night. Do the same thing next Saturday, fellows. Yell for Good Old Tate. We'll hear you down there."
So "Speedy" Lamb, wearing a big white turtle-neck sweater with an enormous red "T" sewed upon the chest, clutched his megaphone
