down all opposition through sheer avoirdupois. But, on the other hand,
it is not always given to the heaviest team to win. Speed counts for
more than heft in many of the fiercest struggles that take place on
the gridiron; and a fellow who can run like the wind, and dodge all
interference, is more likely to bring his side success than the slower
and more stocky individual who lacks this advantage.

Mollie Skinner and her two chums sat there in the front row of the
grandstand where they could have an uninterrupted view of everything
that took place. They had come over very early, just to secure these
splendid seats, sacrificing their customary warm lunch, it seemed, for
each of them had brought a "snack" along, which they had calmly
devoured while waiting for the crowds to assemble.

They felt amply repaid, however, for they found themselves envied by
many who came later, and could not find a vacant seat. From where they
sat they could watch the two teams as they stood in clumps and chatted
and laughed, doubtless trying to appear quite unconcerned, for they
knew how a myriad of critical eyes must be focused on them just then.

"Well, what do you think of the boys now, Mollie?" demanded Lucy
Marsh, upon noticing that the little girl with the clever tongue was
observing the players critically.

"I tell you what's bothering me," Mollie hastened to say. "It's that
Big Bob Jeffries."

"Why, what ails him?" asked Adelaide in turn. "I always thought Bob
Jeffries was to be depended on any time he was needed. Remember how he
played in those ball games, and with never an error. Yes, and didn't