“Uh-huh,” Hunt Garding paused with a sigh. “Going around the world with his dad, eh?”
“He’s foolish! I’d sooner be captain of the Fardale nine than go around the world a dozen times! When does he leave, Hunt?”
“Monday night—right after the Franklin Academy game. Say, Chesty!”
“Huh?”
Garding dropped his voice with a glance around. No one appeared to be in hearing, and he leaned forward.
“Do you think Chip will get it?”
“Get what?”
“The captainship. Ted’s going away leaves it vacant, you know.”
“Holy smoke! That’s right! By golly, we’ve got to root for Chip!”
Hunt Garding nodded, but looked doubtful. He and his brother plebe were among Frank Merriwell, junior’s, stanchest supporters at Fardale. In common with many other students, they had remained at Fardale during the spring vacation.