I almost believe that I'd loan him my new dogwood driver!" Wesley Blair, captain of the eleven, was bringing order out of chaos.
Blair was one of the leaders in school life at Hillton, a strongly built, manly fellow, beloved of the higher class boys, adored from a distance by the youngsters.

Blair was serving his second term as football captain, having been elected to succeed himself the previous fall.

At this moment, attired in the Crimson sweater, moleskin trousers, and black and crimson stockings that made up the school uniform, he looked every inch the commander of the motley array that surrounded him.
"Warren, you take a dozen or so of these fellows over there out of the way and pass the ball awhile.

Get their names first .-- Christie, you take another dozen farther down the field." The crowd began to melt away, squad after squad moving off down the field to take position and learn the rudiments of the game.

Blair assembled the experienced players about him and, dividing them into two groups, put them to work at passing and falling.