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 *centrated on Quinlan, at left guard, and smashed through for a score. A minute afterwards she turned the 6 into a 7. Just before that third period ended the Dark Blue hammered her way across the enemy goal-line for a third touchdown from which, again, no goal resulted. The final quarter witnessed the introduction of practically two fresh teams but produced no scoring. Wyndham chalked up a 19 to 7 victory to start the season's schedule.

Talking the game over that evening, Clif and Tom arrived almost simultaneously at the same conclusion, which, as Tom put it, was this: "You and I, old son, have about as much chance to make the team this year as I have to win the Condon Prize for English! Why, heck, no one knows we're on the squad! That coach doesn't even see us."

"You're right, I guess," Clif agreed sadly. "That bunch is too big and too heavy for us to associate with. What we'd better do is quit and put in our time beefing up."

"It isn't only that, because some of the fellows who played to-day—or tried to—weren't so blamed big, but that Otis dumb-bell can't see any fellow outside the little bunch he's nursed from last year. The trouble with us is we're outsiders, Clif. What we need is advertising, I guess. Say, that's an idea! Let's put an ad in next week's Lantern. Something like this: 'Mr. Clifton Bingham and Mr. Thomas Kemble present their compliments to the Football Committee, and Coaches, and solicit their patronage.' Hold on, though.