“And, if you’re not good to me,” laughed Sydney, “I’ll get back at you in practise.  And I’m to be treated with respect, also, Neil; in fact, I believe you had better remove your cap when you see me.”

“All right, old man; cap—­sweater—­anything!  You shall be treated with the utmost deference.  But seriously, Syd, I’m awfully glad.  Glad all around; glad you’ve made a hit with the play, and glad you’ve found something to beat Robinson with.  Now tell me again about it; where do I come in on it?”

And so Sydney drew a chair up to the table and drew more diagrams of the new play, and Neil looked on with great interest until the bell struck the half-hour, and they hurried away to recitations.

The next day the varsity and substitutes went to New Haven.  Neil wasn’t taken along, and so when the result of the game reached the college—­Yale 40, Erskine 0—­he was enabled to tell Sydney that it was insanity for Mills and Devoe to expect to do anything without his (Neil’s) services.

“If they will leave me behind, Syd, what can they hope for save rout and disaster?  Of course, I realize that I could not have played, but my presence on the side-line would have inspired them and have been very, very helpful.  I’m sure the score would have been quite different, Syd.”

“Yes,” laughed the other; “say fifty to nothing.”

“Your levity and disrespect pains me,” mourned Neil.

But despite the overwhelming nature of the defeat, Mills and Devoe and the associate coaches found much to encourage them.  No attempt had been made to try the new defensive play, but Erskine had managed to make her distance several times.  The line had proved steady and had borne the severe battering of the Yale backs without serious injury.  The Purple’s back-field had played well; Paul had been in his best form, Gillam had gained ground quite often through Yale’s wings, and Mason, at full-back, had fought nobly.  The ends had proved themselves quick and speedy in getting down under punts, and several of the Blue’s tries around end had been nipped ingloriously in the bud.  But, when all was said, the principal honors of the contest had fallen to Ted Foster, Erskine’s plucky quarter, whose handling of the team had been wonderful, and whose catching and running back of punts had more than once turned the tide of battle.  On the whole, Erskine had put up a good, fast, well-balanced game; had displayed plenty of grit, had shown herself well advanced in team-play, and had emerged practically unscathed from a hard-fought contest.

On Monday Neil went into the line-up for a few minutes, displacing Paul at left-half, but did not form one of the heroic tandem.  His shoulder bothered him a good deal for the first minute or two, but after he had warmed up to the work he forgot about it and banged it around so that Simson was obliged to remonstrate and threaten to take him out.  On the second’s twenty yards Neil was given a chance at a goal from placement, and, in spite of his right shoulder, and to the delight of the coaches, sent the leather over the bar.  When he turned and trotted back up the field he almost ran over Sydney, who was hobbling blithely about the gridiron on his crutches.