"So Bob wants you to room with a farm hand!" joshed Benz, "Well, that's what I'd call a test of true friendship. Just what are you going to do about it?"
Cateye nodded. "Why not? Bob was a farm hand at that rate—when he first came on here. His brother, Judd, can't be so bad and if there's a chance of his developing into good football material…"
"You said it!"
"Bob ought to know good football material when he sees it."
Cateye grinned. "There's a postscript I didn't read you," he added,
"About Judd's arriving at two-five this afternoon …"
"Hey, that's only half an hour from now!"
"I know it, and I've an errand I've got to do first," said Cateye, "But let me give you the rest of this postscript before I beat it. Bob goes on to give his brother a boost by saying: 'Judd's in great physical trim already. You should see him tackle three hundred pound hogs out here on the farm and throw 'em…'"
A howl at this.
"Better keep out of his way, Benz!" warned Curns, "You don't weigh that much but how you eat…!"
Benz made a move in Curns' direction, Curns retreating.