“Can’t always have what we want,” remarked George philosophically.
“Who won the game?” asked Bill. “The one you saw, Terry?”
“Why, Lawrenceville, of course. Smeared ’em—outplayed those freshies from start to finish and did it with a lighter team. Thirty-three to nothing—think of it!”
Dorothy turned toward George.
“Stoker Conway—I like that name, ‘Stoker.’ How did you get it?”
George grinned. “I was a grubby little mutt—my first term at Lawrenceville. Somebody pasted the name on me, and it stuck.”
“Three celebrities at one table,” sighed Terry. “I knew we had two with us to-night—but a third! It’s just too much. Betty, you and I have just got to do something to make ourselves famous. There’s practically no hope for me, I admit, but you will probably become a movie queen, when you’re old enough—ash-gold hair and a baby doll face are all the rage on the screen!”
“Oh, I don’t know,” hit back Betty, ignoring the laughter caused by this left handed compliment. “How about the fame you won in the diamond smuggling case? You got plenty of newspaper publicity then.”
This sally turned the laugh on Terry, for as the three others knew, he had played anything but an heroic part in that episode.
But Terry was a jolly soul and his hearty laugh at his own expense joined with the others.