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This year the coach was Mr. Burtis. Burtis had, in his time, been a remarkable half-back and an equally remarkable kicker, both in preparatory school and college. He had left college last spring and was, consequently, but twenty-one or twenty-two years of age. Because Yardley Hall history accorded him much fame as a player and leader, a great deal was expected of him. Toby’s first look at Kendall Burtis produced more surprise than anything else. He found himself wondering how any man could be as utterly homely as the coach and yet look as attractive, how any one could have so many angles in his body and yet be so free from awkwardness! Burtis was rather large, ruggedly built, square of frame. His mouth was broad, his nose somewhat pug, his hair nondescript in hue. Yet in spite of these things the face was pleasing and attractive. Perhaps the very dark gray eyes, clear and steady and honest, were accountable. Or it may be that the mouth expressed kindliness. At all events, after that first instant of surprise and confusion, Toby liked the new coach immensely. Whether the new coach liked Toby I can’t say. It is quite probable that he didn’t see him, for Toby was only one of some forty-eight fellows drawn up in a group on the edge of the second diamond that Saturday afternoon.