ity game of the season, and though Newkirk was considered a sort of second-rate rival, there had been a marked improvement in her playing of late, so that the Randallites understood they were to have no walkover.
The grandstands were filled with a motley crowd of students, men and women spectators and pretty girls galore, for nearly all the feminine contingent of Fairview Institute was on hand, shrilly cheering, or singing for their favorite team, and waving the colors of their own college, intermingled with those of Randall or Newkirk. It is no exaggeration to say that the yellow and maroon of Randall predominated, and when Tom, Phil and Sid looked toward a certain section of grandstand A, which location had previously been brought to their attention, they saw three particularly pretty girls, waving the colors that meant so much to them.
"Madge, Ruth and Mabel are there," announced Tom, as he followed his mates into the dressing room.
"Glad of it," remarked Phil. "It sort of makes you feel as if you could play better when"
"Your sister is looking on—or some one's else sister, eh?" broke in Sid.
"Oh, dry up!" exclaimed Phil, as he looked to the shoulder pads on his canvas jacket.
Out on the gridiron trotted the Newkirk play-
