Hardie shook his head. “I didn’t mean to. I’ve never played on a school team. At Hillbury I played end on my class team in some of the games.”
“That’s not bad,” said Louis, with respect. “They have great class teams at those schools.”
“It isn’t like playing on a school team, though,” offered Dunn. “You don’t have any great responsibility.”
“The class feeling is pretty strong sometimes,” replied Roger, “and the games are always hard.”
“I liked the way you got into the play,” said Mr. Adams. “The house ought to give a good account of itself on the playground this year.”
“I couldn’t do anything at all to-day,” observed Dunn. “I have to feel just right to do myself credit. I didn’t sleep very well last night.”
Redfield exchanged a glance of intelligence with Louis Tracy. They knew what had disturbed Dunn’s slumbers,—the memory of a late lunch in Number Six.
“You must be careful about food and bed hours if you want to be in good condition,” observed Mr. Adams, apparently oblivious to the exchange of messages. “It takes some self-control to keep in training with a pocket full of money.”
“I’d like to have a chance to try it once,” sighed Redfield, to whose mind the suggestion of a pocket full of money conveyed the idea of a continuously replenished supply. Much of his allowance never reached his pocket at all; it was spent in paying back bills.