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Realizing that he had established a reputation for generalship, Toby tried hard to live up to it, but although B did not get the necessary eighteen inches or so on the next down, the succeeding play failed dismally and B lost nearly all she had gained. Toby tried to assure himself that the fault was the right half-back’s, but something told him that an end run from balanced formation was predestined to fail and that another time he would remember that there was such thing as a shift! Perhaps he would have vindicated the reputation gained from his first lucky play if the scrimmage hadn’t ended then and there; or perhaps he would have become exposed for the impostor he knew himself to be. At all events, Toby welcomed the whistle heartily.

Afterwards, in the gymnasium, Grover Beech detained him on his way from the shower. “Snappy work, Tucker,” he said, smilingly. “Glad to see you with us.”

Toby reflected the other’s smile in somewhat sickly fashion. “Thanks,” he answered lamely. “Of course, I didn’t know anything about playing quarter, Beech——”

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