Sydney told his good news, not without numerous eager interruptions from
Neil, and when he had ended the latter executed what he called a "Punic
war-dance." It was rather a striking performance, quite stately and
impressive, for when one's left shoulder is made immovable by much
bandaging it is difficult, as Neil breathlessly explained, to display
_abandon_--the latter spoken through the nose to give it the correct
French pronunciation.

"And, if you're not good to me," laughed Sydney, "I'll get back at you
in practise. And I'm to be treated with respect, also, Neil; in fact, I
believe you had better remove your cap when you see me."

"All right, old man; cap--sweater--anything! You shall be treated with
the utmost deference. But seriously, Syd, I'm awfully glad. Glad all
around; glad you've made a hit with the play, and glad you've found
something to beat Robinson with. Now tell me again about it; where do I
come in on it?"

And so Sydney drew a chair up to the table and drew more diagrams of the
new play, and Neil looked on with great interest until the bell struck
the half-hour, and they hurried away to recitations.

The next day the varsity and substitutes went to New Haven. Neil wasn't
taken along, and so when the result of the game reached the
college--Yale 40, Erskine 0--he was enabled to tell Sydney that it was
insanity for Mills and Devoe to expect to do anything without his
(Neil's) services.

"If they will leave me behind, Syd, what can they hope for save rout and