“Many beside you have wondered,” responded Bracebridge.
“Oh, he must play next week—must, must, we can't do without him! He must play, and that's all there is about it.”
“I am afraid he won't though. Hello, what's up?
Look, here comes Mr. Shalford. How serious he looks,”
The two boys touched their hats as the prefect approached.
“Have you seen Henning, boys? Ah, there he is,”
The prefect went to the group surrounding their ideal pitcher. They were using all the art persuasive they could command to extort a promise from him to play in the forthcoming match game. It is hard to say how much longer he would have had to withstand their importunities, had they not suddenly ceased upon catching sight of Mr. Shalford.
“Henning, I want you.”
Roy disengaged himself from the crowd.
“Here's a telegram for you. The President told me to give it to you at once, and you are to go to him immediately.”