"Thank you, sir," nodded Fred.
"And yet your performance falls off. Your lung capacity ought to be all right from your appearance. What is the trouble? Honestly, have you been smoking any cigarettes?"
"Not one," Fred declared promptly.
Mr. Luce lifted the boy's right hand, scanning it.
"If I were going to make such a denial," remarked coach coolly, "I'd be sure to have a piece of pumice stone, and I'd use it often to take away those yellowish stains."
The light-brownish stains were faint on Fred's first and second fingers. Yet, under careful scrutiny, they could be made out.
Ripley colored uncomfortably, jerking his hand away.
"Better cut out the paper pests," advised coach quietly.
"Only one, once in a while," murmured the boy. "I won't have even that many after this."
"I should hope not," replied Mr. Luce. "You're under training pledge, you know."