one of the best football players that Tate has ever had, a member of the coaching staff last year and a fellow who did as much toward beating Union State as if he had played in the game—'Dusty' Rhoades, captain of the 1923 team."
Chester Trask gave a jerky nod in the best intercollegiate manner, clasped his two hands in front of him and shook them at his audience in a friendly gesture, smiled and sat down. Ecstatic applause ensued. "Pep" Young sprang up and suggested a "short cheer for Chester Trask," which was given boisterously. The orchestra played "Touchdown, Tate," and the gathering sang it a half key too low. When the din had subsided a bit, a short, chunky, red-haired youth arose. Harold, in the seventh heaven of delight, was thrilled anew. Not only was he seeing Chester Trask in the flesh, but before him blinked the previous Tate football king, "Dusty" Rhoades, elusive "Dusty" with the most highly educated straight-arm football had ever seen.
Strangely enough, the applause greeting "Dusty" was a trifle forced. The inside explanation of this was that Rhoades did not represent quite the correct traditions to be the perfect Tate hero. While Trask was a scion of one of America's best known and wealthiest
