"And don't forget Phil Clinton. That was one of the greatest runs and catches I ever saw."
"Oh, yes, it certainly was great. But did you hear the news? Phil isn't going to play any more, at least for the present."
"Why not?"
"He is going into training for our football eleven this fall. Some of the older heads think he'll make a great player."
"I've no doubt he will," said Tom. "He's built for it." And what Tom said was true, as we shall learn in our next tale, to be called "A Quarterback's Pluck." In that story we shall meet Tom and Sid and all the boys of Randall College again and also Miss Madge Tyler, and learn the particulars of several fiercely contested games on the gridiron.
"No, sir, I don't really see how you did it," repeated Sid, "with such a sore arm as that."
"I don't see, either," answered Tom, but he knew that the memory of a certain girl had done as much to keep him up as had his desire to make his team win.
Some one knocked at the door.
"More congratulatory calls," said Sid as he went to open it.
"May I come in?" asked a voice, and Langridge stood in the corridor. Tom arose from the couch where he was lying.
