It is needless to say that the attempt of the society of Gamma Tau to gather Frank and Jimmy into its fold in order to put a curb upon their growing popularity, failed, in spite of the fact that it had been advanced with the greatest care. The most persuasive members of the Campaign Committee, as it was called, had been sent to the two rooms in Honeywell Hall, and the glib-tongued committee men, after clearing out all but the intended candidates, used every argument.

"What possible objection can you have to taking an election to Gamma?" said the chief of the Gamma expedition to Frank. "Gamma is the oldest and most powerful society in the School, and runs about everything here," he added. It was an unfortunate slip of the tongue and gave Frank his chance.

"That's just the trouble with Gamma. As you say it runs everything, and as far as I can judge, it doesn't run anything very well."

"That's a rather bold thing for a Second-year boy to say," suggested one of the trio. "Most of your class would be mighty glad to get a chance to come into it."

"I can't help it," returned Frank. "I mean what I say. I am only a Second-year boy as you have told me, but I've been here long enough to know my way around. I can see very plainly that Gamma is not helping the School, but hurting it, and I always supposed that the main business of a Society was to help the School and not the members of the Society."

"But all the big fellows are with us," said Hastings, a boy who had been elected because his roommate played on the eleven, but who himself was not an important part of the school life.

"They may be big on the athletic teams, but I don't see that they are doing much else. Why don't you take in some one besides the athletic fellows? There's my roommate, David Powers, or Gleason, they both have more brains than I have."

"No, we want you to come first. They will come later, if you come."

"Oh, so that's it, is it? Well, gentlemen," said Frank, with so much determination that the committee men gave him up as a bad job, "I appreciate the honor you offer me, but I think I can do more for the School by staying outside. Some day I hope to see the Gamma recognize the boys for what they are worth, and not for the distance they can punt a football or throw a baseball. It used to be that way, and if I can help in my little way to putting it back that way, I'll do so."

"This is your last chance, you know," said Hastings. "If you turn us down this time you can never wear the Gamma pin."

"Well, I guess I can never wear it, then, for I wouldn't agree with Gamma about most things. It is better for all of us."

"All right, it's settled," said Hastings, "but you're going to be a sorry kid some day."

"I doubt it," said Frank shortly.

And that ended the interview. Nearly the same thing was repeated in Turner's room, for Jimmy and Frank were one in their determination not to be drawn into the society, as they knew that once in it they would have to be governed by it, and that didn't suit their fancy at all.

Dixon and Wheeler were furious when it was reported to them that both boys had again turned down the invitation. "They'll regret that to the day of their death!" Chip stormed. "The impudent little upstarts! The Gamma will smash them, see if it don't." Wheeler said nothing, but the scowl on his face boded no good for our friends in Honeywell Hall.

Two days after the interview in Frank's room, and when the class baseball series was in full swing, Frank was sent for by Boston Wheeler and told to report on the football squad the next afternoon.

The Codfish was wild. "It's as plain as the nose on your face," he said to Lewis, "what they're after; they're going to bury him on that football squad, hold him there and finally give him no chance at all."

The subject of the discussion appeared at that moment, and the Codfish whipped around on him. "Are you going down on the gridiron?"

"No help for it," said Frank gloomily. "Wheeler came over himself to-night and told me to come down. I told him I was no good, but he insisted that they needed a punter. Horton, also, has suddenly discovered that I'm a kicker."

"I'd refuse," snorted the Codfish.

"And get the School down on me? No, I can't do that. If they really want me I'll be glad to help. And if I can't, I've got to take my medicine and have neither the fun of our baseball series nor the glory of football. I'm going to try hard to develop myself especially for drop kicking. Gamma or no Gamma, it is the Queen's School eleven and not the Gamma eleven. I'd be a pig not to do what I can to help, little as it may be."

"Well, maybe you're right," reluctantly admitted the Codfish, "but I haven't your forgiving nature. Hey," he called to David, who had just come into the room, "Frank's going to shyster the baseball end of it and go down to the gridiron just because Wheeler wants him. What do you think about it?"

"Just one thing. He can't do anything else."

"All right, then, down goes the house of baseball, because there's not another pitcher on the staff of the Piratical Pippins to make a dent in a pound of butter at six feet."

It was indeed with great reluctance that the captains of the baseball nines heard of the break that had been made in their ranks. Practice fell off materially in the following few days, and before the end of the week the nines had disbanded, at sight of which the leaders of Gamma grinned to themselves. So far their plan was working well. Frank's opportunity had been smashed, and they promised themselves that he would not have another one if they could help it.

Frank, although called over to the football squad, was lost in the ruck. He had missed nearly two weeks of practice, which in so short a season as football is a serious matter. Once he was sent in at end on the Second team but did not distinguish himself. In the punting and drop kicking, which was taken before regular practice, he showed an aptitude. Horton began to take more notice of him, and on several occasions took him aside and coached him on the proper step and swing of his leg in meeting the ball. Dixon did not relish these attentions to Frank, and did all in his power to keep him out of the practice.

At night in the room Jimmy labored with Frank and endeavored to teach him what he knew of the play of a half-back. Jimmy was considered the best back on the Queen's eleven. Thick-set, stocky, short, strong of leg and thick of neck, and with a trick of running low, he was hard to stop. He was fast, too, because he never took any roundabout way for the hole that was opened for him, and when the hole wasn't open for him he often made it himself by sheer strength. On defense he was a regular demon. Wherever the ball was, there might be found Jimmy's flaming top-knot. Never for a moment was he deceived by any tricks that the opponents might play. His eye was glued to that ball, and he was always in front of it.

So, with this knowledge, Jimmy proved a good and patient teacher, and always after supper the center of the study was cleared of tables and chairs, and Frank and Jimmy worked for half an hour or so with a ball before taking up the regular lessons. Frank learned quickly and, when he had a chance, put his knowledge into operation. In this, what might be called secret practice, Frank learned to handle the ball quickly without fumbling it, to shift it rapidly from hand to arm-pit, and to take just the right position on his feet. It was surprising how much skill he was able to acquire in the narrow space of a room.

Once Jimmy, in illustrating how the offensive half-back could help his tackle, pressed Lewis and the Codfish and David into service.

"Now, Lewis, you are the opposing guard. Stand here," commanded Jimmy.

Lewis was dragged into position, protesting, and assumed the attitude of a crouching guard with his hands on his knees.

"And you now, Coddy, you stand here at his right. You're the defensive tackle."

"Good!" said the defensive tackle. "It's a pleasant job, how much do I get?"

"You'll get all that's coming to you in a minute."

"It won't rumple up my hair, will it?"

"No, don't stand too far out there. That's it, keep your place and look pleasant. Now, Frank, you're the right half-back and you've got to carry the ball. Here, David, you snap it back; you don't need to get down, just face Frank and toss it to him. That's it, right there where you are. Now I'll give the signal. Remember, Frank, you cross over behind me. I'm going to help the offensive tackle to block off his opponent. You see I haven't any offensive tackle or guard here, but it will do to illustrate. Now, ready all!"

Jimmy yelled this last as if he were outside on the football field, so earnest was he in his work. David snapped or tossed the ball to Frank, who dashed across behind Jimmy. Jimmy threw himself against the unresisting opposing "tackle" and "guard." Over they went like nine pins, Lewis fetching up in the fireplace and the Codfish under the window seat!

There was a howl of laughter from Frank, David and Jimmy, but it wasn't echoed by the defensive "tackle" and "guard." Instead they picked themselves up very carefully and felt of themselves.

"Where's the automobile that hit me?" said the Codfish, in a rueful tone, feeling his shins tenderly.

"Some one get a shovel, please," groaned Lewis, "and dig these ashes out of my left ear." He was a sight.

"All right!" yelled Jimmy, "line up quick, and I'll show you how the cross-buck ought to be played!"

"Oh, no you don't," said the Codfish, edging away. "You can't show me a cross-buck or a tame-buck or a golden-buck or any other kind of a buck this evening. I've had all I want of football instructions. If you and Frank want to continue your jolly little game, go and borrow a few saw-horses."

"Why, what's the matter?" inquired Jimmy innocently, while Frank stood holding the ball and grinning.

"I have nothing to say about Lewis, but if you imagine I'm a chopping block," grumbled the Codfish, whose hair had been seriously rumpled and his immaculate clothes mussed up, which he didn't relish a bit, "you have six more guesses and you'll never get one of them right."

"Oh, I say," said Jimmy, "this is in the interests of science, you know. We've got to teach Frank football, somehow."

"You can teach him anyhow," said the Codfish, "but you can't make a Roman holiday out of me again. Science is all right, but it can't be allowed to flourish at the expense of my dignity. Look at our poor friend, Lewis Carroll." The sight was so comical that even the Codfish got over his grouch and laughed.

"That's what we get every day," said Jimmy. "I wonder if the School knows how many hard knocks its football players get. You've got to take what's coming to you without a whimper. If a fellow is tender he better keep out of football."

"Or out of the fireplace, eh, Lewis?" cried the Codfish.

"Or from under the window seat," retorted Lewis, who by this time had made himself again presentable by a liberal supply of soap and water.

There was no more football practice that evening; and thereafter when the floor space was cleared away for Jimmy's illustration of the tactics of the back field, the Codfish and Lewis always found it convenient to be absent on important business.

The fall drew on with rapid pace. Sometimes the football eleven of Queen's seemed to be getting together, but it was only seeming; for, lacking the right spirit, the eleven had no fight in it. Captain Wheeler often chafed at the interference of his quarter-back, Chip Dixon, whose bitter feeling toward Frank he could not understand.

Dixon had forgotten Frank's generous attitude the night of the supposed drowning of Tommy Brown in the Gamma initiation, and remembered only that Frank had beaten him out in several of his ambitions. It seemed to be forever in his mind that Frank had beaten Warwick with the Freshman nine, and he lost no opportunity to hurt him in the eyes of the coach and the rest of the players.

But, in spite of his disadvantages and of the scant attention he got on the field, Frank continued to improve. Under the loving coaching of Jimmy at night and much observation and practice on the field, he forged ahead in the knowledge of the game; and once, called in by Horton to replace the full-back when the School eleven held the Second on its five-yard line, he kicked a neat goal from the field.

"Good boy!" said Horton that night, as the teams trudged off to the gymnasium. "You are getting the knack of it. I'd give good money if you were twenty pounds heavier. But you'll grow. Keep at it, and you'll surely get a chance at the eleven next year."

This praise from the coach, heard by Dixon, rankled in the latter's heart. He set to work planning for an overthrow of Frank's hope, the results of which will be seen later on. Dixon was so busy working off his grudge or trying to do it, that he played poor ball, much to the exasperation of Coach Horton. The next day after Frank's drop kick, Chip was warned for a rough and ugly piece of work in the practice, and after some words with the Coach, was sent to the side lines in disgrace. Walker, the little quarter on the Second team, was pulled over to the position at quarter on the first team, and to the astonishment of every one, the coach, after running his eye over the possible candidates to fill the quarter's position on the Second eleven, ordered Frank to take his place. "He handles the ball like a flash," said Horton, in defense of what he had done, when the Captain protested; "he's as fast as lightning and, if my dope isn't wrong, he'll make a dandy quarter. He's too light to play anywhere else. We'll give him a trial."

Horton's change proved to be a stroke of genius, for Frank, although not well acquainted with the signals or accustomed to the place, proved to have a natural aptitude for the position, and it was only a few days till he began to find himself. His punting, although not great in distance, was accurate, and so quick were his movements that he put a life and ginger in the Second team which brought about a vastly different condition on the field. Dixon was finally recalled to his old position on the School eleven, but Frank had improved so much that Walker came back to the Second as Frank's substitute.

Jimmy was overjoyed at the turn affairs had taken, and every minute that he had to spare from lessons he coached Frank on tricks of the back-field play. For hours together the two worked on the handling of the ball from center, Jimmy playing center, of course. Frank improved with wonderful rapidity. His baseball playing helped him in handling the ball, and as the season advanced he began to rival, except in experience, the resourceful Dixon himself. He had even an advantage of the latter, for he could punt and drop kick as well.