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unexcelledg and its shining light was a large. cream-colored building on an attractive campus,
enfolded in clouds of blue and gold, A double sidewalk surrounded the campusg trees and flowers
grew in abundance. Other buildings were on the campus, too. lt must be-of course it was
Weston Highg and those other buildings were the Gym. the Library. and the Manual Training
and Domestic Science Laboratories of which they had tlreained--now a reality. How familiar the
sight, yet one that caused a hurt deep inside. -Xnd this was the school he had deserted.
Not love that? Oh, he did love it. Those colors? He wanted to walk over the water to it
all, crying out that he was not yellow. not a traitor.
The sun was up when he awoke. By degrees he was himself again. What was it-this feeling
of duty? Stan arose and went to his car, bnt to his surprise found a broken axle. For the first
time, he realized the distance that he had made, He must recover that before two-thirty. Would
a lift come?
It came. A shackly old car passed, and he hailed it. Somehow they reached Weston High
just as the one oiclock whistle blew.
At the north door Stan met Coach and grabbed his arm.
i'Coach, you were right to put me out yesterday. I was doing things wrong. Iive changed.
Something has happened to me. Iive got to do my part for Weston High. l owe it to her."
Coach was like a man of stone.
"Coach, I'm out-I know. I'm not asking to be back in. but can't I put on my suit-just this
last time-and sit on the sidelines? lill carry water, do anything just to be there-dressed in the
old colorsefor the old school. Coach, can't l? Coach, you don't know what it'll mean. Can't
I, Coach? Can't I?', he pleaded.
Coach looked straight at him, then nodded his head.
How slowly those three quarters of the game passed, and the hours and hours long they
had been. The fourth quarter came. Score 0-0. Could Weston do it? Stan had torn up the
ground where he sat, and had almost gritted his teeth out, More than he had ever done, he fer-
At that moment the reserve right halflmaek was knocked out. ,Xlready the team had begun
to weaken. Would Weston fail? Stan sprang to the little man.
'LCoach, hels hurtl Let me in!"
A few seconds passed.
'ACoach, welve got to do it. It's my team. They trust me. I can do more with them, tired as
they are, than anybody else. Coach, for Gods sake let me in!"
"You canit say no. I've got to! You've got to send somebody ing they're waiting on you.
We can do it."
UGO on. Report to the referee."
Had a miracle happened? From where did the team's new strength come? The spectators went
mad. In a trance Stan heard strange signals faintly reaching his ear. From instinct only, he
caught the ball and plunged forward. When he got his breath again. signals were being called.
Again he caught the ball, and was nailed to the ground with a short gain. More signals, He was
up running for the goal, something drawing him on. He plunged across.
After a time he felt himself being raised in the air. In the arms of his laughing. crying, and
shouting team he was paraded over the field. When he was lowered to the ground, a hand gripped
his. It was that of Coach.