“Nor you girls don’t seem to know much about basketball,” chuckled Chet.
“What’s the fight about?” demanded Bobby, coming up to the group on the upper deck of the steamer.
“We ought to all pitch into him,” said Jess, pointing to Chet. “He is maligning the team.”
“All right I’ll help—if it’s to be ‘battle, murder, and sudden death,’” chuckled Bobby. “We ought to get our hands in, anyway, for to-morrow.”
“What’s to-morrow?” cried the girls.
“Didn’t you hear what Gee Gee said to the English class to-day when the gong rang?”
“Go on, Bobby. What’s the joke?” urged Dora Lockwood.
“Why, Gee Gee said, ‘Now, young ladies, that we have finished this present subject, to-morrow we shall take the life of Carlyle. Come prepared.’ If Jess really wants us to help her draw and quarter Chet, it might be good practice for what we’re going to do to Mr. Carlyle.”
“Poor Gee Gee,” said Nellie, shaking her head. “She has her hands full just now. Some of the squabs are as bad as ever you were, Bobby, when you were a freshie.”
“I like that!” exclaimed the irrepressible. “Me bad!”