The pigskin settled into his hands and he dropped it quickly, kicking it fairly on the rebound.
But the second was through, and the ball banged against an upstretched hand and was lost amidst a struggling group of players.

In a moment it came to light tightly clutched by Brown of the second eleven.
"I don't have to make believe," groaned Neil.

"Fate's playing squarely into my hands." Five minutes later the leather went to him for a run outside of left tackle.

He never knew whether he tried to do it or really stumbled, but he fell before the line was reached, and in a twinkling three of the second eleven were pushing his face into the muddy turf.

The play had lost the varsity four yards.