varsity honors had begged for it, and some half dozen or more had been
tried. But in the end the choice had narrowed down to Neil, Paul,
Gillam, and Mason, and these it was that day after day bore the brunt of
the attack, emerging from each pile-up beaten, breathless, scarred, but
happy and triumphant. Two weeks is short time in which to teach a new
play, but Mills and the others went bravely and confidently to work, and
it seemed that success was to justify the attempt; for three days
before the Robinson game the varsity had at last attained perfection in
the new play, and the coaches dared at last to hope for victory.

But meanwhile other things, pleasant and unpleasant, had happened, and
we must return to the day which had witnessed the inception of Sydney
Burr's "antidote."



CHAPTER XVI

ROBINSON SENDS A PROTEST

When Sydney left Mills that morning he trundled himself along Elm Street
to Neil's lodgings in the hope of finding that youth and telling him of
his good fortune. But the windows of the first floor front study were
wide open, the curtains were hanging out over the sills, and from within
came the sound of the broom and clouds of dust. Sydney turned his
tricycle about in disappointment and retraced his path, through Elm
Lane, by the court-house with its tall white pillars and green shutters,
across Washington Street, the wheels of his vehicle rustling through the
drifts of dead leaves that lined the sidewalks, and so back to Walton.
He had a recitation at half-past ten, but there was still twenty minutes