seriously about it Now--"

"Now--" echoed Hicks, with pretended seriousness, "Coach, you just hand me
the blue-prints and specifications of said Gargantuan Hercules, and I'll
try to corrall just such a phenomenon as you desire. Never hesitate to
consult me on such important matters, for I am ever-ready to cast aside my
own multifarious duties, when my Alma Mater needs my mental assistance,
or--"

"Hicks, are you crazy?" fleered Deacon Radford, moved to excitement,
despite his great faith in the versatile youth. "Full-backs like that do
not grow on trees; the only one I ever read of was Ole Skjarsen, in
George Fitch's 'Siwash College Stories,' and he was purely fictitious. We
know you have accomplished some great things by your 'inspirations,' but as
for this--"

"Just leave it to Hicks" quoth the irrepressible youth, swaggering toward
the door with an affected nonchalant self-confidence that aroused Butch to
wrath, and vastly amused his companions. "I'll admit a human juggernaut
like Coach Corridan dreams of will be hard to round up, but, I'll have an
inspiration soon. Don't worry about your old eleven, your problem will be
solved, and you will have a team that can play fifty-seven varieties of
football. Raw revolver, my comrades."

When the graceless T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., had sauntered gracefully out of
the grub-shack, big Butch Brewster, almost exploding with suppressed wrath,
stared at Slave-Driver Corridan and staid Deacon Radford a full minute;
then he grinned,

"That--Hicks!" he murmured, struggling against a desire to laugh. "What a