Behind the Line | Page 6

guarantee you positions on the
varsity eleven. Besides this, you will be given free tutoring for the
entrance exams, and afterward, so long as you remain on the team, in
any studies with which you may have difficulty. Now, there is a fair,
honest proposition, and one which I sincerely trust you will accept. We
want you both, and we're willing to do all that we can--in honesty, that
is--to get you. Now, what do you say?"
During this recital Neil's dislike of the speaker had steadily increased,
and now, under the other's smiling regard, he had difficulty in keeping
from his face some show of his emotions. Paul looked up from his
scarred knuckles and eyed Neil furtively before he turned to the coach.
"Of course," he said, "this is rather unexpected."
The coach's eyes flickered for an instant with amusement.
"For my part," Neil broke in almost angrily, "I'm due in September at
Erskine, and unless Paul's changed his mind since yesterday so's he."
The Robinson coach raised his eyebrows in simulated surprise.
"Ah," he said slowly, "Erskine?"
"Yes, Erskine," answered Neil rather discourteously. A faint flush of
displeasure crept into Mr. Brill's cheeks, but he smiled as pleasantly as
ever.
"And your friend has contemplated ruining his football career in the
same manner, has he?" he asked politely, turning his gaze as he spoke
on Paul. The latter fidgeted in his chair and looked over a trifle
defiantly at his room-mate.
"I had thought of going to Erskine," he answered. "In fact"--observing
Neil's wide-eyed surprise at his choice of words--"in fact, I had
arranged to do so. But--but, of course, nothing has been settled
definitely."

"But, Paul--" exclaimed Neil.
"Well, I'm glad to hear that," interrupted Mr. Brill. "For in my opinion
it would simply be a waste of your opportunities and--ah--abilities, Mr.
Gale."
"Well, of course, if a fellow doesn't have to bother too much about
studies," said Paul haltingly, "he can do better work on the team; there
can't be any question about that, I guess."
"None at all," responded the coach.
Neil stared at his chum indignantly.
"You're talking rot," he growled. Paul flushed and returned his look
angrily.
"I suppose I have the right to manage my own affairs?" he demanded.
Neil realized his mistake and, with an effort, held his peace. Mr. Brill
turned to him.
"I fear there's no use in attempting to persuade you to come to us also?"
he said. Neil shook his head silently. Then, realizing that Paul was
quite capable, in his present fit of stubbornness, of promising to enter
Robinson if only to spite his room-mate, Neil used guile.
"Anyhow, September's a long way off," he said, "and I don't see that it's
necessary to decide to-night. Perhaps we had both better take a day or
two to think it over. I guess Mr. Brill won't insist on a final answer
to-night."
The Robinson coach hesitated, but then answered readily enough:
"Certainly not. Think it over; only, if possible, let me hear your
decision to-morrow, as I am leaving town then."
"Well, as far as I'm concerned," said Paul, "I don't see any use in
putting it off. I'm willing--"

Neil jumped to his feet. A burst of martial music swept up to them as
the school band, followed by a host of their fellows, turned the corner
of the building.
"Come on, Paul," he cried; "get your coat on. Mr. Brill will excuse us if
we leave him; we mustn't keep the fellows waiting. And we can think
the matter over, eh, Paul? And we'll let him know in the morning.
Here's your coat. Good-night, sir, good-night." He was holding the door
open and smiling politely. Paul, scowling, arose and shook hands with
the Robinson emissary. Neil kept up a steady stream of talk, and his
chum could only mutter vague words about his pleasure at Mr. Brill's
call and about seeing him to-morrow. When the door had closed behind
him the coach stood a moment in the hall and thoughtfully buttoned his
coat.
"I think I've got Gale all right," he said to himself, "but"--with a slight
smile--"the other chap was too smart for me. And, confound him, he's
just the sort we need!"
When he reached the entrance he was obliged to elbow his way through
a solid throng of shouting youths who with excited faces and waving
caps and flags informed the starlight winter sky over and over that they
wanted Gale and Fletcher, to which demand the band lent hearty if
rather discordant emphasis.
* * * * *
A good deal happened in the next two hours, but nothing that is
pertinent to this narrative. Victorious Hillton elevens have been hauled
through the village and out to the field many times in