CHAPTER

     I.—­The boy in the straw hat.

    II.—­Station road and river path.

   III.—­Outfield west.

    IV.—­The head coach.

     V.—­A rainy afternoon.

    VI.—­The practice game.

   VII.—­A letter home.

  VIII.—­The golf tournament.

    IX.—­An evening call.

     X.—­The broken bell rope.

    XI.—­Two heroes.

   XII.—­The probation of Blair.

  XIII.—­The game with st. Eustace.

   XIV.—­The Goodwin scholarship.

    XV.—­The boat race.

   XVI.—­Good-by to Hillton.

  XVII.—­The sacred order of Hullabalooloo.

 XVIII.—­Visitors from Marchdale.

   XIX.—­A varsity sub.

    XX.—­An old friend.

   XXI.—­The departure.

  XXII.—­Before the battle.

 XXIII.—­Harwell vs.  Yates—­the first half.

  XXIV.—­Harwell vs.  Yates—­A fault and A requital.

   XXV.—­The return.

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

A leap in the nick of time.

Joel’s arrival at school.

His next drive took him cleanly over Rocky Bunker.

“Stay where you are; the fellows are bringing a boat”.

The left-guard bore down straight upon Joel.

Instantly the crimson crew seemed to lift their boat from the water.

DIAGRAMS.

Plan of Hillton Academy Golf Links.

Diagram of Second Play.

Diagram of Third Play.

Positions, Harwell vs.  Yates.

CHAPTER I.

THE BOY IN THE STRAW HAT.

“How’s craps, Country?”

“Shut up, Bart! he may hear you.”

“What if he does, ninny?  I want him to.  Say, Spinach!”

“Do you suppose he’s going to try and play football, Bart?”

“Not he.  He’s looking for a rake.  Thinks this is a hayfield, Wall.”

The speakers were lying on the turf back of the north goal on the campus at Hillton Academy.  The elder and larger of the two was a rather coarse-looking youth of seventeen.  His name was Bartlett Cloud, shortened by his acquaintances to “Bart” for the sake of that brevity beloved of the schoolboy.  His companion, Wallace Clausen, was a handsome though rather frail-looking boy, a year his junior.  The two were roommates and friends.

“He’d better rake his hair,” responded the latter youth jeeringly.  “I’ll bet there’s lots of hayseed in it!”

The subject of their derisive remarks, although standing but a scant distance away, apparently heard none of them.

“Hi, West!” shouted Bartlett Cloud as a youth, attired in a finely fitting golf costume, and swinging a brassie, approached.  The newcomer hesitated, then joined the two friends.