But if Harold had ever entertained any hopes of giving Crawford a run for his job, they sank during the following week. For Crawford, smarting under Cavendish's reproof, was like a man inspired. He ran wild through the scrubs and directed the varsity eleven like the genius he was. And in the game against McLeod the next Saturday he scored three touch-downs single-handed and won a grudging compliment from his coach in the locker room afterward.
"It does the boys good to get smacked in their vanity once in a while," commented Mike Cavendish sardonically to Trask.
Crisp November had succeeded sultry October and the season of more important games for the Tate eleven was at hand. Coach Cavendish signalized the arrival of this more crucial period by protesting to Captain Trask regarding the extra hour of practice he was putting in every day.
"I don't want you going stale on me," declared the coach.
"Don't worry about my condition, Mike," said Trask. "I'll watch it. I won't do anything that will hurt me. But please don't ask me to drop these workouts with Lamb. I've a special reason for wanting to keep them up."
"You don't expect to make anything out of
