slowly, "I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll stick this fool kid in and show you how bad he really is. I'll give him some rope and let him hang himself. Tell him to take the place of that muttonhead that just gummed the play for the third team."
Trask, watching with Cavendish from the side lines the scrimmage between the second and third elevens, walked over to the bench-warming Harold and said crisply, "Jump out there in Bell's place."
Harold looked actually frightened. "You mean—" he started to stammer.
"Yes. Snap into it." The Freshman had peeled off his sweater and had started on a dead run for the struggling scrimmagers when Trask called him sharply back. "You don't know the signals, do you?" said Trask. "Well, listen sharp then. Two plays will be enough for you to try." And he rapidly revealed two sets of the varsity's mystic rush numbers. Then Trask resumed his place beside Cavendish.
The third team was about to put the ball into play as Harold rushed up to the assistant coach acting as referee and reported breathlessly, "Substitute for Bell," as he had heard so many others announce themselves. The referee blew the whistle just in time. Harold took the headguard of the banished
