Kenny laughed and settled down comfortably on the couch. He had taken a decided fancy to this fresh, breezy man of the world, who seemed to go through life in such a jolly, good-tempered way.
“Well, how’d things go to-day?” Carr asked presently, in a casual tone. “Any more rows?”
Kenny hesitated and a slow flush crept into his face.
“We did have it pretty hot toward the end,” he confessed. “I flared up and gave Tempest a piece of my mind, and then left the field just about ready to throw the whole thing up.”
A look of genuine anxiety flashed into Carr’s face.
“Oh, thunder!” he exclaimed quickly. “You wouldn’t do that, would you? Why, it would just about give Harvard the game!”
“I’m not going to—no,” Kenny returned. “I’ve seen since then that I couldn’t, of course; but I was so blooming mad at the time that I was ready for anything.”
The broker sank back in his chair with a sigh of relief.
“Gee! You gave me a start,” he confessed. “I thought for a minute you still meant that, and I certainly don’t want to see old Yale licked.”
He took a meditative puff on his cigar and then went on rather casually: