Two good carpenters employed for two whole days soon righted the damage done by the blaze. Pole, when he was able to navigate again and had viewed the interior of the badly charred storeroom, declared, "Looks to me like matches and mice!" This seemed to be the concensus of opinion among the fellows as to the origin of the fire. The room had been filled with spare pieces of furniture, some of which were packed in excelsior. There was also a great quantity of extra bedding in the room. This accounted for the dense smoke which almost proved fatal to a number of fellows.

Judd was now quite an object of interest, and lauded wherever he went, as a hero. He, however, disliked publicity and oftentimes, when out walking, would make many detours to avoid encountering fellows whom he knew would lavish compliments upon him. Pole and Potts became steadfast friends of Judd's since that eventful night. But the gulf between Judd and Benz had noticeably widened. Judd was fast gaining such recognition on the second team as a star that it seemed probable he might be shifted to the varsity any day. Cateye had earnestly hoped that his room-mate might be given a chance. Just one chance! But it seemed as if that chance would never come.

One night, it was now almost November, Cateye was just returning to the locker room after football practice, when he came up to Coach Phillips and Benz on the way.

Something that Benz was saying caused Cateye to almost stop in his tracks. His pace slackened. He lagged behind within hearing distance.

"Yes, I know Judd is pretty fair,—but I'd still sort of hate to trust him in a game. Of course, if you think he's better than Walker, why,—"

"Well,—Walker hasn't shown up exceptionally good lately and I'm thinking of making a shift soon," replied the coach.

"Walker has complained of being sick this week," bluffed Benz, lamely.
"He'll be o.k. in a couple of days. Don't worry."

Cateye increased his steps and hastened past.

"Benz!" cried Cateye, to himself, "You whiner! The only way you could get even with a man was to stab him in the back! I really thought you were loyal to your college,—to the team."

The following Saturday, November fifth, Bartlett College met and defeated the Wynham Medical School, 13 to 6, thus keeping up their unbroken string of victories. But the victory was a dear one. Cateye, at left guard, suffered a badly wrenched knee, and Pole, at right end, nursed a sprained ankle. These men would be out of the game for at least a week. Judd, who had come to admire the brilliant work of Cateye, both on offense and defense, felt very bad over his injury.

"You never miss the water till the well runs dry," Judd told Cateye, the night after the game. "They'll appreciate what a darn good guard you've been now, when they try to find some one to fill your shoes!"

"Bosh! There's plenty of fellows just as good as I am, Judd, and better!" laughed Cateye, punching Judd with a crutch. "There's a guy by the name of Mister Billings, for instance, who,—"

"Do you suppose I'll git a chance now?" demanded Judd.

"Can't help but get a chance! They've got to put you in. No one else good enough!"

"Would they be putting me in your position?"

"Most likely."

"I won't do it!"

"Won't do what?"

"I won't play your position!"

"Nonsense, Judd. You'll play wherever Coach Phillips puts you."

"Maybe I will, but then, maybe I won't!"

"Why not?"

"I don't want your position. I'll quit football first. That settles it!"

"Judd, don't talk that way. It's for the team. Don't mind me. I'm out of it. I want you to show people how good you really are. I'd like to write and tell Bob,—"

"Nothin' doin'! If they try to put Judd Billings in your position he'll hand in his resignation."

* * * * *

Cateye was right. Coach Phillips was forced to give Judd a chance.
The next practice had not gone five minutes before Phillips called to
Judd. "Billings, come over here. I want you to fill in at left guard
on the varsity."

"I'm sorry, sir, but can't you put me in some other position?"

"I'm afraid that is impossible, Billings. Tell me, what is your reason for not wishing to play left guard?"

Judd was silent.

Coach Phillips saw a strange light in the boy's eyes. He stepped over, laid a friendly hand on Judd's rugged shoulder.

"Well?"

"… It's like this," Judd began, softly, "That's Cateye's position. He,—he's the best friend I've got. The fellows think I'm just a rube, but I—I appreciate a pal like Cateye. I … I'd give my life for him any day,—but take his position,—well—I just can't, sir!"

Coach Phillips was deeply touched. Here was loyalty in a deeper sense than he had ever seen it before. If Judd could only be taught the same sense of loyalty toward his college! Judd shifted his feet, restlessly; he was slightly embarrassed. He had planned to quit abruptly if asked to take Cateye's place and the fact that he had confessed to the coach his reason for not wanting the position made Judd a trifle indignant. For at least a full minute neither one spoke.

Coach Phillips dropped his hand from Judd's shoulder.

"All right," he said, "I'll not try to force you. Go back to the seconds. Play left tackle."

"Thank you, sir," replied Judd, brightening up. "If you ever want me to play another position," … he added, trying to make amends.

"Don't worry, Rube. We're bound to use you before the season's out," reassured Phillips, as he turned away. "Conklin!" calling to another man on the second team, "Get in at left guard on the varsity. Yes, I'm speaking to you! Snappy now!"

The energy that Judd put into his work that afternoon spread joy among the members of the second team and darkened the hopes of the ambitious varsity. Largely through his untiring efforts the second team pushed over a touchdown, starting from mid-field, in exactly seven minutes by the watch. Such a feat heretofore that season had been unheard of!

"Oh you lemons!" some onlooker yelled at the varsity. "Can't you stop
Rube?"

It was apparent to all that Judd, almost single-handed, was responsible for the seconds' touchdown. Time and again he had opened great holes in the line through which McCabe and Kinyon loped for big gains.

But the varsity as well as the onlookers were destined to more surprises. With the seconds leading, 7 to 0, the varsity took the kickoff and drove the ball savagely up the field to the seconds' five yard line. But every man on the second team was fighting hard now, spurred on by the excited cries of the half hundred spectators.

"Hold 'em, seconds! They can't score on you! Brace up, Rube! Stop those guys!"

The varsity was determined to push across that touchdown. Benz was angry. It was the first time during the season that the seconds had led in the scoring. The pill was a bitter one to swallow when he realized that it had been Judd who was responsible for the showing. Benz tapped Neil, varsity quarterback, on the arm, and whispered in his ear: "Play everything through the left side of the line. It's weakest. We got to have a touchdown!" Then to himself: "Here's where I show up Rube! Right through left tackle for a touchdown. Three plays to make it in. We'll smash him to bits!"

Neil began calling signals. Benz dashed forward, seized the ball and plunged straight toward left tackle. Judd broke through the line, pushing guard and tackle aside, and dropped Benz for a loss of two yards.

The onlookers howled in glee. Coach Phillips was openly pleased at Judd's showing, "That boy can play!" he told himself, then to the varsity. "You fellows are rotten, … rotten!" he rasped. "Can't even gain on the scrubs!"

"We'll show you!" challenged Benz, now in a rage. "Just give me that ball again and, … and interference!"

The second play headed straight for the left side of the line; headed straight for, … but not through. Judd was again equal to the occasion. He toppled the entire interference and in some miraculous way tackled Benz for another loss.

"No wonder we can't gain!" cried Benz, indignant at this failure, "When
Rube is playing off side!"

"I wasn't playin' off side!" denied Judd, quick to resent this charge.
"You'd better take that back or, …"

"Or what?" sneered Benz, stepping up, hotly.

Judd, getting control of himself, turned away.

The spectators laughed but Coach Phillips put a stop to their merriment and censured the two players. "Another word from either of you fellows and I'll send you off the field. Play ball!"

The last try for a touchdown was an end run by Gary, halfback, around left end. Judd spilled the interference and McCabe grabbed the runner. The varsity had lost three yards in three downs against the despised seconds!

McCabe drew Judd back of the line for a punt and Judd booted the ball far down the field out of danger. When scrimmage ended it found the ball in mid-field and the score still, 7 to 0, in favor of the scrubs.

The onlookers gathered in a bunch. "Rah, rah, rah! Rah, rah, rah!
Dubs, dubs, dubs!"

It wasn't very often they got such an opportunity to rub it in to the varsity.

Most of the first team members left the field downcast and dejected.
It was indeed a disgrace to be walloped by the scrubs with the season
almost over. If Pennington should hear of this they would take the
Bartlett eleven less seriously.

"What d'you say we celebrate our victory?" suggested McCabe, who had played quarterback for three years on the second and considered this one of the moments in his football career.

"Good idee!" supported Randolph, fullback.

"Where'll we hold the celebration?" asked Parsins, center.

"Down by the bend in the river, to-night, eight o'clock sharp!" instructed McCabe, "Everyone be there?"

"Yea!"

"How about you, Rube?"

"I reckon I can be there," Judd responded.

"Say, … bring your mouth organ with you, will you?" requested McCabe, suddenly. "We want some music."

"Well, … maybe."

"All right! Good!" said McCabe, taking it for granted. "Eight o'clock then, fellows. By the way, don't tell a soul. It's just us despised seconds that are in on this celebration, you know."

* * * * *

"If you won't tell me where you are going, Judd, please, … how late will you be out?" It was Cateye questioning. Judd generally told where he was going when he went out but to-night he was tight as a clam.

"Can't say," replied Judd, grinning, "Don't know, rather," he added when he saw Cateye's puzzled look.

"Judd," reprimanded Cateye, "I feel like I was some sort of guardian over you. Remember, Benz hasn't gotten even with you yet and every move you make just heaps so many more coals on the fire!"

"I reckon I can take care of myself," drawled Judd, doubling up two rock-like fists. "Good-bye!"