"Oh, I guess I'll be all right by then," said Tom, with a smile.
"Jack, pass those sandwiches," for an impromptu banquet was under way.
"Yes, and don't hold that mustard for a loss," added George.
"Pass those pickles up this way for a touchdown," begged Reddy Burke.
"Well, Tom," asked Bruce Bennington in a low voice, "are you glad or sorry you didn't insist on having a row with Sam, right off the bat?"
"Glad," answered Tom. "It came out all right anyhow."
"Sure it did. He's gone, and you're here," said Bruce.
"A song, boys! A song!" called Jack Fitch, and a moment later, in spite of the danger of a visit from the proctor, there swelled out the strains of "For He's a Jolly Good Fellow!"
But the proctor did not come. As he heard the forbidden sounds of gaiety he smiled grimly.
"It Isn't every day that Elmwood Hall wins a championship," he remarked to Doctor Meredith.
"No, indeed," agreed the head master. "And so young Fairfield made the winning touchdown?"