“It is in such marked contrast to your record of the past three years,” he went on quietly, “that I decided to have a talk with you and find out what was the matter. Can you tell me, Mr. Hollister, why it is that you seem to have done absolutely nothing in any class this term?”
“I’ve—been thinking—a lot about—football,” stammered Bob.
“Ah! Giving time to it away from the field, you mean?” the older man inquired.
Hollister nodded.
“Yes, sir.”
“Is that necessary to a proper performance of the game?” the dean asked quietly. “I do not seem to recall any such complaints as these about the work of other members of the eleven.”
He tapped the papers on the desk in front of him lightly.
Hollister glanced up quickly.
“It isn’t absolutely necessary,” he answered. “But the new rules have changed the game a lot and made it necessary to devise a great many different tricks and combinations to make up for those which have been barred out. I’ve been awfully interested in it, and I’ve spent a good deal of time thinking these things out, which should, no doubt, have been put to better use.”
The older man nodded.