Bert and Dick passed this remark over with the silent contempt they felt it warranted, and asked Mr. Melton what he would like to do next.
"Anything you suggest will suit me," replied that individual. "I place myself entirely in the hands of my friends."
"Well, then," suggested Dick, "why not go over and watch the boys practising football? There's always a few kicking the ball around, even when there's no regular practice on the programme, and sometimes they play sides. It won't hurt to go over and see what's doing, anyway."
As Mr. Melton expressed himself as agreeable to this plan, they strolled over toward the campus, and were soon standing on the sidelines watching the practice. There was a goodly number out, and the air resounded with the smack of leather against leather as the pigskin was sent soaring high into the air, to be caught expertly as it descended swiftly toward the earth. A few of the regulars were out, and it was easy even for a stranger to distinguish them by the deftness and quick sureness of their actions. The others sometimes missed hard catches, but these veterans, with clocklike precision, were always in position to make the most difficult catches without even the appearance of effort.
"Looks easy, doesn't it?" said Bert to Mr. Melton.
"Well, I wouldn't say that exactly," said Mr. Melton, "but I've no doubt it looks a good deal easier than it really is. I have had enough experience of life to realize that nothing is as easy as it looks. Many people never realize that though, and the result is they never try hard enough, or at least, when they do realize it, find it too late to do anything."
They watched the practice a short time longer, and then as the afternoon was getting well along, Mr. Melton looked at his watch and said he would have to get back to his hotel. They were just turning away when they came face to face with Hendricks, who was hurrying toward the scene of activities. He and Mr. Melton had hardly glanced at each other when they each gave a shout and rushed forward with outstretched hands.
"'Bull,' you old reprobate, is it really you!" exclaimed Mr. Melton, pumping the coach's hand up and down like a pumphandle.
"It certainly is, old timer," replied Hendricks, "and you sure are a welcome sight to me. But how in the name of all that's good did you happen to get here?"
"I came as a guest of our young friends here," replied Mr. Melton; "they mentioned your name, but I didn't think that it might be you. It's some years now since we were together last."