Later, while I was picking up wet towels, Red Rafferty came busting out of the shower, naked as a jaybird and wet as a hell-diver. His freckles glist… - Harold Keith

Clem Rogers had not given up on his determination to have Will acquire an education. He still believed Will could get some good out of schooling if only a school could be found that would hold his interest. After a good deal of thought Clem decided on Kemper Military Academy at Boonville, Missouri. The school had a fine reputation and in those days many well-to-do ranchmen sent their sons there, not only for the academic training the school offered, but also that they might acquire poise, learn obedience, manliness and how to be orderly in personal appearance. There were the sons of many prominent families at Kemper when Will Rogers went there, among them Burton Mudge, son of the president of the Santa Fe railroad; Alden Nickerson, whose father was president of the Mexican and Central railway; Norris Beebee, son of a well-known Boston leather manufacturer; R. D. Williams, son of a judge of the Missouri Supreme Court, and many others.
Will arrived at Kemper on January 13, 1897, wearing full cowboy regalia, a short Stetson hat with a braided horsehair cord, red bandana handkerchief around his neck, a richly colored vest and high-heeled red-top boots with noisy spurs. He must have looked strange to the Kemper boys, clad in their trim uniforms.
One of the first boys Will saw was John Payne, also part Cherokee, whom he had met and known at Tahlequah when their fathers went there to the Cherokee Council, years before. "Why hello, John," Will drawled, beaming because he had found someone from home, "they got you here, too?" "Yes," laughed John, "I'm servin' time same as you."

That night Lee lay awake, staring into the darkness and wrestling with his problem. Jean was asleep beside him, her breathing slow and regular. Why do I coach? he asked himself. Why don't I get into something else?
He turned on his side, smoothed his pillow, and thought about it. He liked boys. He and Jean had even wanted to adopt a boy, but so far they hadn't been successful. Also, he was fond of basketball. Every time he saw a basketball game he wanted to get into it. With him, coaching ranked next to playing. Like an architect or a composer, a coach created an exciting something that the whole community could embrace. It was fun to get wrapped up in a team and all the boys in it, and to watch them develop and mature.
Lee sighed and flipped over on his back. Coaching was like narcotics; once you started, it hooked you. He remembered his friend Jim Fessenden. Jim had a degree in mathematics from Princeton. He had also played tackle on the football team there. On the day they handed him his diploma an insurance firm offered him ten thousand dollars a year to start as a junior actuary. But the position wasn't exciting enough. Jim turned it down to take a job at six thousand coaching a high school football team in Kansas.
But this wasn't Kansas. It wasn't even coaching boys. This was a new town and a new job. He hated to be pushed around, by that surly school board president or anyone else. If he was ever going to get his team back, now was the time. He had to act fast. Enrollment started at nine.

I admired Red's honesty. He was human. He was thinking about getting to dribble out into the spotlight with the other four starters in the introduction ceremony. And he was thinking about playing the full twenty-four minutes with his team instead of only the last five. Pop nodded and his blue eyes gleamed queerly. "I thought you'd feel that way," he said. "Know what? I'm going to start you against Bancroft Friday. You've earned it."