“How’d you like it, Bump?” asked Stover. “You look warm.”
“You played a bully game,” said Hargraves.
“Did I?” Bumpus gave them a glance of suspicion. “It didn’t seem so.”
“It was great playing,” continued Stover. “Going to keep it up?”
“Of course he is!” interrupted Harrison, as he came up from behind. “Bump won’t go back on the school as long as it needs him.”
“That’s right!” said Bumpus, beaming with his whole red, swollen face. “I’m not stuck on the game, but if you really think I’m any help, I’ll come out till the end of things!”
“That’s the talk,” answered Harrison. “I wish you fellows showed as good a spirit.”
“We’ve been trying to encourage him,” claimed Hargraves. “What more do you want?” They went off, snickering, to Stover’s automobile.
Inside the dressing rooms, boys shouted and jested and laughed over their bathing and dressing. Talbot leaned a smooched arm and a grimy paw on the top of a locker, and smiled across at Hardie.
“You’ve played football before.”