“Miss Harman seemed glad to see me on the following day.  She must have known that I was in her father’s confidence, but she was too well schooled to show it.  As we rode out in the big limousine I undertook to study her, but the reading of women isn’t my game.  All I could see was a beautiful, spirited, imperious girl with the Harman eyes and chin.  She surprised me by mentioning Running Elk of her own free will; she wasn’t the least bit embarrassed, and, although her father’s face whitened, she preserved her quiet dignity, and I realized that she was in no wise ashamed of her infatuation.  I didn’t wonder that the old gentleman chose to accompany her to this game, although he must have known that the sight of Running Elk would pain him like a branding-iron.

“It was the first great gridiron battle I had ever seen, and so I was unprepared for the spectacle.  The enthusiasm of that immense crowd astonished me, and in spite of the fact that I had come as a tired old man, it got into my veins until my heart pounded and my pulses leaped.  The songs, the shouts, the bellows of that multitude were intensely thrilling, for youth was in them.  I grew young again, and I was half ashamed of myself until I saw other people of my own age who had also become boys and girls for the day.  And the seriousness of it!  Why, it was painful!  Not one of those countless thousands was a disinterested spectator; they were all intensely partisan, and you’d have thought life or death hung on the victory.

“Not one, did I say?  There was one who held himself aloof from all the enthusiasm.  Old Henry sat like a lump of granite, and out of regard for him I tried to restrain myself.

“We had a box, close to the side lines, with the elite of the East on either hand—­people whose names I had read.  They bowed and smiled and waved to our little party, and I felt quite important.

“You’ve probably seen similar games, so there’s no need of my describing this one, even if I could.  It was my first experience, however, and it impressed me greatly.  When the teams appeared I recognized Running Elk at a distance.  So did the hordes of madmen behind us, and I began to understand for the first time what it was that the old man in the seat next to mine was combating.

“A dancing dervish in front of the grandstand said something through a megaphone, then he waved a cane, whereupon a tremendous barking, ’Rah!  Rah!  Rah!’ broke out.  It ended with my Sioux boy’s name, and I wished the old chief back in Dakota were there to see his son and to witness the honor done him by the whites.