newcomer's existence. But Harold came back on the field again, the rescued ball in his hand, and innocently sidled up close to the coach.
Cavendish, seeing the joke football player return, swept his squad with fiery eyes. "What is this?" he demanded. "Something you cake eaters framed up on me?"
The players, sobering up, denied this vigorously.
He roared at Harold, "You a Freshman?"
"Why, yes, I—"
"You got sent in here by some of these smart Sophomores, hey? What is it—a fraternity initiation or something? Tell me the names of the guys that sent you and I'll break their necks. This football team is terrible enough without any of this joke business."
Harold spoke up. "Nobody sent me, sir. I came of my own accord. I entered college principally to play football. I'm sorry I was late in reporting for the team. I've been so busy with other things I—"
"Well, get busy on 'em again then! Get off this field and, if you value your life, DON'T COME BACK!" And Cavendish, who thought now that things had gone far enough, thrust his unshaven jaw pugnaciously into Harold's face.
"Speedy" Lamb paled. He shifted from one foot to the other. He was utterly misera-
