"Well, we must be getting along," urged Prescott. "It is very near our supper time, and——"
"But about the uniforms?" persisted Mrs. Dexter.
"Mrs. Dexter, the fellows appreciate your offer very highly. It pleased them all to know that you made it."
"I'm glad to hear that," smiled Mrs. Dexter.
"But, ma'am," Prescott continued just as earnestly, "while the fellows all feel extremely grateful, they would rather you didn't think of doing anything of the sort. The fellows feel that if they're smart enough to wear football uniforms, they're smart enough to get 'em. It would take all feeling of hustle out of the team if some one else smoothed the way for them like that."
"I see," half assented Mrs. Dexter reluctantly.
"Therefore, ma'am, if you will accept our gratitude for your offer, and agree to the notion of the fellows that they'll do best if they do their own hustling, we'll all be mightily pleased as well as grateful."
"Oh, well, then," replied the good woman, "we'll simply consider that the matter is postponed. I can't agree, as easily as this, to drop what I have considered my privilege."
As soon as could be, Dick & Co. made their escape.
They met again for a little while in the evening. Nothing of any real moment happened while they were together.