David saw his first football practice the next afternoon and enjoyed the spectacle of Jimmy zipping through the line or spilling the fellow with the ball when he happened to be playing on the defensive. Dixon was living up to the part of the contract forced upon him by Frank and the Wee One, and made no further obstacle for Jimmy when the coach occasionally put him over in the backfield on the First eleven. But Chip bore the Freshman halfback no very deep affection. He was, however, becoming more and more impressed with the belief that Jimmy was the genuine material and that he was pretty nearly necessary to the welfare of his eleven. Hillard generally took precedence, that is, he went in at first, but Jimmy would get in awhile toward the end of practice.

During the week, practice had been very satisfactory, by far the best of the season, and when on Saturday the school eleven scored 12 to 4 against the Milldale High School eleven, hope began to run high in the school that perhaps after all Queen's might pull out that Warwick game, which was now only a week off.

Friday night there was a mass-meeting under the elms in the yard, and Horton, Mr. Parks and a graduate of the school of some forty years before—a Mr. Walbridge—were the speakers. They stood on the steps of Russell and torches lighted up the scene. There had been a torchlight parade up and down the walks of the school, and the procession finally halted in front of the wide steps of Russell Hall where the speakers were in readiness.

"We are going out next Saturday for a victory, boys," said Horton. "We have been down in the mouth all the season because factions have been pulling us one way and another, but that is all over now. You played good football this afternoon, but you'll have to play better next Saturday for those fellows up the river are going to give you the battle of your lives. But if you will forget all your disagreements and get together, and then stay together, we'll show them yet."

"You bet we will," sang out a voice from the rear, as Horton retired. "Three cheers for Horton."

Harding, the captain of the eleven, wakened from his lethargy by the enthusiasm, jumped out in front of the bunch of boys and cried: "Now a long one for Mr. Horton, get into it," and they did with a vim and a snap which made Horton's eyes brighten.

"Rackety wow, rackety wow, rackety wow, Horton, Horton, Horton."

The rumpus stirred the katydids in their leafy bowers overhead and they were loudly affirming and denying when Mr. Parks gave the boys a word of encouragement. Mr. Parks was followed by the elderly graduate of the school, who told them of football when he was at Queen's.

"We hadn't a quarter of the number of boys to choose from in my day," he said, "and I don't think we were any bigger, but we worked together and played together and ate together, and when we went out on the field to play our games we were so completely together that the team moved like one man. And if you will look over the records of those old days, you'll find that Queen's didn't lose many games.

"It's the same on the football field as it is in the daily walks of life. To be successful, I mean to have the right kind of success, you've got to play fair and hard and keep thinking. If some one slams into you, I know the feeling is to retaliate, for that's human nature; but when you're tempted to do that, just think that while you're slugging the fellow who slammed into you unnecessarily, your opponent may be getting past you, for you can't do two things at once. I remember a fellow in my own class; they called him 'Biff Scott.' He used to play center, and when he could keep his temper he was a wonder. But a hard jolt always made him mad, and then he was a very poor center. In our big game with Warwick, for our big game was with Warwick just the same as yours is now, the Warwick center knew of Scott's weak point, so he teased him into forgetting what he was there for, and they put play after play right over him and actually won the game because he fought and didn't play.

"I'm of the opinion," the old graduate continued, "that what Mr. Horton says is right, that if you give up these little dissensions, get together and stay together, you may yet make this football season something to be proud of. I, for one, believe you can and will do it. That's all."

Again the school yell ripped out sharply and was echoed back by the walls of Warren just across the way. Cheers were given for the team, the coaches, the captain, and a crashing one for Queen's School. Then the torches were swung over shoulders again, and the procession took up its course, the tramp of many feet following the marching melody of the school—

When it was all over Frank and Jimmy and Lewis climbed the stairs to No. 18 and found David where they had left him.

"It was like fairy-land," cried David, as Jimmy and Frank came in. "Looking down from here it was like a long fire-snake twisting and turning up and down the walks."

"How about the cheering?" asked Jimmy.

"It sounded wonderful coming up through the branches. I'm so glad I came up after all. I had made up my mind not to go to school because I felt I would be in the way," and he looked down at his twisted and misshapen limbs, and there was a tremor in his voice. "But just the same, I'm glad I came. I can't take part in all the fun, but it will be good to see it from the window."

"Go along with you," said Frank, going over to David and slipping his arm around his shoulder. "In a little while you'll be taking your part just the same as any of us, and you won't have to watch from the window as you say."

"What could I do?" wailed David.

"There are lots of things you can do. Maybe you can write for the Mirror."

"That, we'd have you know, is the sparkling weekly of Queen's," broke in Jimmy.

"Yes," said Frank; "you might stamp your name forever on the history of Queen's athletics by writing a good football song, and who knows but they might erect a monument to your memory, because we're a little shy on good songs."

"I've been thinking of trying myself," said Lewis, "now that I've given football up for more serious things."

"Because football's given you up, you mean," slung in Jimmy, "for better things!"

"But I can never do anything in athletics like you fellows," said David wistfully. "It would be such fun."

"I'm not so sure you can't do any athletics," said Frank. "To-night I happened to meet Patsy, he's our trainer, you know, and instructor in the gym as well. I told him about you and he said you might go into the gym, and if you develop strength in your arms there are lots of things you could do."

"What, for instance?" inquired David, brightening up at the possibility of taking part in any of the sports which he had thought all closed to him forever.

"Well, Patsy said there was the gymnastic work, parallel bars, horizontal bars, flying rings and rope climbing. The champion of the school gets a big 'Q' on a white sweater just the same as the football fellows. And he said you might make a good coxswain of the crew. Lots of things for you to do, so cheer up."

"I'll see about it right away. I've always been strong in my arms and hands, probably because of these things," indicating the crutches. "You see my poor legs are not very heavy," and he caught the arms of the chair in which he was sitting, and raised himself with the greatest of ease, swinging his body clear of the seat and swaying backwards and forwards.

"I say," said Jimmy, "wouldn't it be great if David got his 'Q' before any of us?"

"Guess there's no real danger of my being burdened with a 'Q' for a while," said David laughing. "But I'll train up and be ready for it if a 'Q' should be flying around looking for some pleasant place to nest."

"We're all looking that way and would be most willing to offer a nest to this much-desired but elusive letter. Jimmy is the most likely of us if he doesn't break his neck before the Warwick game," said Frank.

"Come on, Fatty," cried Jimmy, after the boys had chatted for a half hour. "We must be going to our model apartment up the road, and let these old cronies get to bed. I've got to keep good hours, you know."

"Speaking of beds, you see how I've fixed my room," said Frank, leading the way to the chamber. "We got them to put another couch in here alongside of mine, right by the window. From here we can look out and see you fellows laboring any fine afternoon. The football field is right over there," added Frank, pointing. He broke off short. "Gee whiz," he cried suddenly, "what's that?" The others crowded up close to the window and looked in the direction indicated by Frank's finger.

The moon was shining brightly, the stars twinkled brilliantly, and the trees and the football stands threw dense black shadows on the grass which at that distance looked like a pall of black velvet. But what caught and held their attention was in the middle distance between themselves and the silvery line of the river, where a white shrouded figure moved rapidly along. It looked like a woman dressed completely in white, but the garments hung from the head rather than from the shoulders, and seemed to flow out behind.

"It's a ghost," whispered Lewis, his scalp beginning to stretch with the rising hairs. The boys watched the thing intently. It did not seem to walk but rather to glide along about five or six feet from the ground. Suddenly it turned from its course parallel to the river, and started to come in the direction of the dormitory. It came on and on until within perhaps a hundred yards of the foot of the slightly higher ground on which the dormitories were built, and then swung away off in the direction of the football stands and disappeared as suddenly as it had come, while they stood watching with fascinated eyes.

Frank was the first to recover himself.

"Well, if that doesn't beat the Dutch," he said, turning a puzzled face to his companions. Lewis was positively blue with fear.

"I thought the thing was coming right up the bank," he said.

"Yes, you grabbed me as if you had been a drowning man and I had been a straw," said Jimmy.

"You did some grabbing yourself," retorted Lewis, beginning to recover himself now that the apparition had gone.

"Well, I'll admit the blooming thing did startle me, all right. Must have been a shadow," said Frank. "The moon plays funny tricks with shadows at night."

"It wasn't a shadow," remarked David, "because I distinctly saw a black shadow following the thing, whatever it was; and if it had been a shadow it certainly wouldn't have cast a shadow, would it?"

The boys stood at the window for half an hour looking for another visitation of the spook or ghost, or whatever it was, but the field appeared to be deserted. There was only the moonlight on the grass, the black shadows and the katydids calling mournfully to each other the old, old refrain. Then Lewis and Jimmy made their departure, the former keeping very close to Jimmy as they headed for their own room. Unconsciously they quickened their steps and occasionally looked fearfully over their shoulders, and on reaching their entry made a break for their room, three steps at a leap.

A little while after Jimmy and Lewis had made their hasty exit to the other end of Warren Hall, Gleason came sauntering up the stairs, and into the room.

"This is our new room-mate, David Powers," said Frank. David and Gleason shook hands.

"Glad to see you," said the Codfish. "Hope you and Web-foot won't get lost in that big room of yours—what's the matter with the both of you?—you look as if you had seen a ghost."

"That's just what we did do."

"Get out, where?"

"Right down there on the meadow."

"Go to bed and have a little sleep, and you'll get over it all right. You're studying too hard."

"I saw it too," chimed David. "There were four of us and we saw it plain as day."

"What was it, the headless horseman or the slaughtering ghost of the Barrows' football team? Did it walk or skate?"

"No, we're telling you the straight goods on this. Jimmy, Lewis, David and I saw it, and watched it for five minutes. It disappeared down by the river bank. It didn't walk on the ground at all, but seemed to be floating through air."

"Poor fellow, poor fellow," said the Codfish mournfully. "We'll get a doctor in the morning. That algebra has gone to his brain."

"Well, you can believe it or not," said Frank. "We saw it sure enough. It came apparently from the river, and seemed to go back to it down there by the football field."

"By Jove," said the Codfish, after a moment's reflection. "One of the fellows at this school was drowned in the river just a little below the bath-house float three or four years ago, and they recovered his body down there by the football stand. I wonder—— I wish I'd been here."

And Frank and David and Jimmy and Lewis also wondered, and the latter, when he was ready for dreamland took a long, long look out onto the silent playground. "Gee," he said to himself, "and I thought of going down there to-night, it looked so pretty in the moonlight. What do you suppose it could have been?" He took the precaution of closing the window tight that night, leaving only those windows on the yard side of the rooms open. That night he dreamed that a headless woman dressed all in white stood beside his bed, and offered him her head which she had tucked nicely away under her arm, and when he looked at it more closely, he saw it was a football and not a head at all.