When practise was over that day the new candidates were unanimous in the
opinion that they had learned more that afternoon under Mills than they
had learned during the whole previous week. Neil, Paul, and Cowan
walked back to college together.

"Yes, he's a great little coach," said Cowan, "and a nice chap when you
get to know him; no frills on him, you know. And he's plumb full of
pluck. They say that once when he played here at half-back he got the
ball on Robinson's forty yards and walked down the field and over the
line for a touch-down with half the Robinson team hanging on to his
legs, and said afterward that he thought he _had_ felt some one tugging
at him!" Neil laughed.

"But he doesn't look so awfully strong," he objected.

"Well, I guess he was in better trim then," answered Cowan. "Besides,
he's built well, you see--most of his weight below his waist; when a
chap's that way it's hard to pull him over. I remember last year in the
game with Erstham I got through their tackle on a guard-back
play, and--"

But Neil had already heard that story of heroic deeds, and so lent a
deaf ear to Cowan's boasting. When they reached Main Street a window
full of the first issue of the college weekly, The Erskine Purple, met
their sight, and they went in and bought copies. On the steps of the
laboratory building they opened the inky-smelling journals and glanced
through them.

"Here's an account of last night's election," said Cowan. "That's quick