"Well … buck up, Buddy. There's always a way out and you're young yet!"
Tears came anew to Judd's eyes. He turned away from Bob, ashamed.
"Why—Buddy—what's the matter?"
"I—I didn't know I could feel this way."
"How do you feel?"
"I—I dunno. I guess I'm homesick."
Bob's eyes blurred. He himself had scarcely been back to Trumbull for three years.
"Well, you'll soon be back, Buddy … with mother. Summer vacation is about over. I expect she's missed you a lot too. She's tried to do the very best she knew how for you…. Perhaps I can come up later and … and see you play football."
Judd started. Bob almost regretted that he had taken the liberty to make this suggestion. He had tried to do it casually as if playing football would be the natural thing for Judd to do. And he had not mentioned school although to play football would imply attending school. Judd looked at Bob sharply. His emotions were conflicting. He would like to do so many things if…
"But mother wouldn't hear to my playin'," objected Judd at last. This seemed the most logical excuse he could think of. "Anyhow, I am not goin' back to school." This came as an after thought.