Bang!—a shoe flew past Tucker and struck the half-open door, which was knocked against the nose of Bouncer Bigelow, who had just started to peer into the room.
“Oh, wow!” cried the fat boy, grabbing his nasal organ with both hands. “Be careless, will you? What are you trying to do, anyhow?”
“Shoe fly, don’t bother me!” cried Tucker. “Come in quick and close the door. These people seem violent. We may have to sit on them, and you’re the proper size and weight for that job.”
“Wonder you didn’t make my nose bleed,” grunted Bigelow, as he came in and leaned against the closed door. “What is it, another fight? Jerusalem! there hasn’t been a thing doing but fights ever since the middle of that game. Never saw such a scrappy crowd. But, say, there were a lot of pretty girls out to the game. They enjoyed it immensely seeing Highland rub it into us. They kept squealing their class cheer and waving their flags until I was afraid they would all have spasms. I can’t seem to get the sound of that yell out of my ears. It was a sort of a hiky-yi! ye-yo! yow! wow! wow! Even when they were yelling their loudest they were pretty. I tell you, fellows, the fair sex is beautiful.”
“That’s natural,” said Dick.
“Not always,” grinned Tucker. “Sometimes it’s artificial.”
“But really,” said Bouncer, “I can’t understand girls. I don’t believe any fellow ever does. Somehow, they seem to understand us better than we do them.”
“That began with the first woman created,” said Tommy. “See how well old Mother Eve understood old Father Adam.”
“That was because she was on the inside at the beginning,” said Dick.
“Somebody loan me a brick, please,” begged Tucker. “I’ll give it to Merriwell—good and hard!”