"One of the backs--left half for choice."

"Here comes Morse," remarked Jack, as the captain came into sight,
surrounded by a score of lads seeking to curry favor.

"And there's Jackson, the coach," added Tom. "He's got a suit on.
Guess he'll go in for practice."

The field soon became a scene of activity. From one side two lads
strolled from under the grandstand where some of the dressing rooms
were, and advanced toward the coach and captain.

"There are Heller and Johnson," said Bert in a low voice. "They're
going to have a try, too."

"Did you hear where Sam wants to play?" asked Tom.

"No," answered his chums.

"Come on now, boys, line up!" called the captain. "We'll play a scrub
game. Hecker, Miller, Jones, Reilley, you'll be on the scrub for a
while," and Morse called on other names to make an eleven.

"Regular team over here!" went on the young captain--"that is what's
left of 'em. Tom Fairfield, you'll be left half, I guess. Bert, get
in at guard, though I may change you later. Jack, you'll do at tackle,
I think."

"Where am I to play?" asked Sam Heller as though it was all
settled--that is all but naming his position. "I'd like to go in at