Behind the Line | Page 7

past years, and
bonfires have flared and speeches have been made by players and
faculty, and all very much as happened on this occasion. Neil and Paul
returned to their room at ten o'clock, tired, happy, with the cheers and
the songs still echoing in their ears.
Paul had apparently forgotten his resentment toward Neil and the whole
matter of Brill's proposition. But Neil hadn't, and presently, when they
were preparing for bed, he returned doggedly to the charge.

"When did you meet that fellow Brill?" he asked.
"In Gardiner's room this morning; he introduced us." Paul began to
look sulky again. "Seems a decent sort, I think," he added defiantly.
Neil accepted the challenge.
"I dare say," he answered carelessly. "There's only one thing I've got
against him."
"What's that?" questioned Paul suspiciously.
"His errand."
"What's wrong with his errand?"
"Everything, Paul. You know as well as I that his offer is--well, it's
shady, to say the least. Who ever heard of a decent college offering free
tutoring in order to get fellows for its football team?"
"Lots of them do," growled Paul.
"No, they don't; not decent ones. Some do, I know; but they're not
colleges a fellow cares to go to. Every one knows what rotten shape
Robinson athletics are in; the papers have been full of it for two years.
Their center rush this fall, Harden, just went there to play on the team,
and everybody says that he got his tuition free. You don't want to play
on a team like that and have people say things like that about you. I'm
sure I don't."
"Oh, you!" sneered Paul. "You're getting crankier and crankier every
day. I'll bet you're just huffy because Brill didn't ask you first."
Neil flushed, but kept his temper.
"You don't think anything of the sort, Paul. Besides--"
"It looks that way," muttered Paul.
"Besides," continued Neil calmly, "what's the advantage in going to

Robinson? We've arranged everything; we've got our rooms picked out
at Erskine; there are lots of fellows there we know; the college is the
best of its class and its athletics are honest. If you play on the Erskine
team you'll be somebody, and folks won't hint that you're receiving
money or free scholarships or something for doing it. And as for Brill's
guarantee of a place on the team, why, there's only one decent way to
get on a football team, and that's by good, hard work; and there's no
reason for doubting that you'll make the Erskine varsity eleven."
"Yes, there is, too," answered Paul angrily. "They've got lots of good
players at Erskine, and you and I won't stand any better show than a
dozen others."
"I don't want to."
"Huh! Well, I do; that is, I want to make the team. Besides, as Brill said,
if a fellow has the faculty after him all the time about studies he can't
do decent work on the team. I don't see anything wrong in it, and--and
I'm going. I'll tell Brill so to-morrow!"
Neil drew his bath-robe about him, and looked thoughtfully into the
flames. So far he had lost, but he had one more card to play. He turned
and faced Paul's angry countenance.
"Well, if I should go to Robinson and play on her team under the
conditions offered by that--by Brill I'd feel disgraced."
"You'd better stay away, then," answered Paul hotly.
"I wouldn't want to show my face around Hillton afterward, and if I
met Gardiner or 'Wheels' I'd take the other side of the street."
"Oh, you would?" cried his room-mate. "You're trying to make yourself
out a little fluffy angel, aren't you? And I suppose I'm not good enough
to associate with you, am I? Well, if that's it, all I've got to say--"
"But," continued Neil equably, "if you accept Brill's offer, so will I."

Paul paused open-mouthed and stared at his chum. Then his eyes
dropped and he busied himself with a stubborn stocking. Finally, with a
muttered "Humph!" he gathered up his clothing and disappeared into
the bedroom. Neil turned and smiled at the flames and, finding his own
apparel, followed. Nothing more was said. Paul splashed the water
about even more than usual and tumbled silently into bed. Neil put out
the study light and followed suit.
"Good-night," he said.
"Good-night," growled Paul.
It had been a hard day and an exciting one, and Neil went to sleep
almost as soon as his head touched the pillow. It seemed hours later,
though in reality but some twenty minutes, that he was awakened by
hearing his name called. He sat up quickly.
"Hello! What?" he shouted.
"Shut up," answered Paul from across in the darkness. "I didn't know
you were asleep. I only wanted to say--to tell you--that--that I've