"Everything's hard," said Praska seriously, "until it's done."
Abruptly Bristow dropped the shears.
"There was a time," he said, "when I didn't believe in a school paper's going into this sort of thing—but I've changed my mind. You can count on the Breeze to go with you all the way. Something Mr. Banning said in civics last week has started me thinking. He said that half the fellows in the senior class would cast a vote in the next election for Governor of this State. It gave me a jolt to think how close a lot of us were—you and me, for instance—to American citizenship. Then he said we don't keep in touch with the people who have graduated from this school. I think I know what he meant by that. He meant that whenever the school had a fight on it ought to call on its graduates for help. It's going to be a fight for that athletic field, and we're going to call on ours. First crack out of the box we ought to call on Carlos Dix."
"Fine!" cried Praska.
Bristow grinned. "I thought that would get you. You've been a Carlos Dix worshipper ever since we were in the sixth grade. I'll bet there was a time you dreamed of him at night."
"I'm still for him," Praska said honestly. "He was the best quarterback Northfield ever had,
