The suggestion was promptly acted upon and Betty now found herself walking between tall pampas grass and well trimmed bushes of all sorts along a path to the house and talking to Chet Dorrance, who asked her if she had bought her season ticket for football yet.
“No, I haven’t. Are you selling them?”
“No, but Ted is.”
“I’m awfully sorry, but Carolyn told me that if I hadn’t promised, one of the girls wanted to sell me one, so I promised.”
“Oh, that’s all right. It was probably one of the girls on a pep squad.”
“What’s a pep squad?” laughed Betty. “That must be one of the things that I haven’t heard about yet.”
“You’ll hear a lot about it, then. Why, they have them in the G. A. A., girls that talk it all up and make ‘enthusiasm’ and support the athletics, you know.”
“What is the G. A. A., please? I must be terribly dense, but remember all the things I’ve tried to take in. You’re not a freshman, are you?”
“Why, no–what makes you think that?” Chet was privately thinking that there must be something after all in experience, though as he was no larger than a very dear freshman friend, who had been left a little behind in the race for high school, he had been “insulted” more than once by being considered a freshman.
“Well, I did think that you were one, since your brother is a junior”–Betty had almost said that he looked so much younger than Ted the tall, but she halted in time. “But you seem to know all about everything, and even the freshies who live here don’t always remember everything.”