with it. The men who had the necessary money went by train; a few owned automobiles: but most of the undergraduates had neither an automobile nor money for train fare. They “bummed” their way. Some of them emulated professional tramps and “rode the beams,” but most of them started out walking, trusting that kind-hearted motorists would pick them up and carry them at least part way to their destination. Although the distances were sometimes great, and although many motor¬ ists are not kind, there is no record of any man who ever started for a game not arriving in time for the referee’s first whistle. Somehow, by hook or by crook—and it was often by crook—the boys got there, and, what is more astonishing, they got back. On Monday morning at 8 145 they were in chapel, usually worn and tired, it is true, ready to bluff their way through the day’s assignments, and damning any instructor who was heartless enough to give them a quiz. Some of them were worn out from really harsh traveling experiences; some of them had more exciting adventures to relate behind closed doors to selected groups of confidants.
Football! Nothing else mattered. And as the1 weeks passed, the excitement grew, especially as the day drew near for the Raleigh game, which this year was to be played on the Sanford field. What were Sanford’s chances? Would Harry Slade, Sanford’s great half-back, make All American?
