years instead of a week. The study and the adjoining bed-room were at
last furnished to suit; The First Snow was hung, the "rug for the
wash-stand" was in place, and the objectionable towel-rack had given way
to a smaller but less erratic affair.

Every afternoon saw the two boys on Erskine Field. Mills was a hard
taskmaster, but one that inspired the utmost confidence, and as a result
of some ten days' teaching the half hundred candidates who had survived
the first weeding-out process were well along in the art of football.
The new men were coached daily in the rudiments; were taught to punt and
catch, to fall on the ball, to pass without fumbling, to start quickly,
and to run hard. Exercise in the gymnasium still went on, but the
original twenty-minute period had gradually diminished to ten. Neil and
Paul, with certain other candidates for the back-field, were daily
instructed in catching punts and forming interference. Every afternoon
the practise was watched by a throng of students who were quick to
applaud good work, and whose presence was a constant incentive to the
players. There was a strong sentiment throughout the college in favor of
leaving nothing undone that might secure a victory over Robinson. The
defeat of the previous year rankled, and Erskine was grimly determined
to square accounts with her lifelong rival. As one important means to
this end the college was searched through and through for heavy
material, for Robinson always turned out teams that, whatever might be
their playing power, were beef and brawn from left end to right. And so
at Erskine men who didn't know a football from a goal-post were hauled
from studious retirement simply because they had weight and promised
strength, and were duly tried and, usually, found wanting. One lucky
find, however, rewarded the search, a two-hundred-pound sophomore named
Browning, who, handicapped at the start with a colossal ignorance
regarding all things pertaining to the gridiron, learned with wonderful