“Oh, is that so?” asked Gerhart, and he did not seem nonplussed. “Well, maybe some other fellow will be glad to get what I have to offer.”
“I don’t believe it!” exclaimed the other. “I’m done with you, and that settles it,” and he crashed into the bushes and disappeared, leaving Gerhart alone on the road.
“Did you see who that was?” asked Tom, looking at Phil.
“No; I couldn’t make out his face.”
“It was George Stoddard, captain of the Boxer Hall eleven.”
“That’s right,” agreed Phil. “I knew I’d seen him before. But he didn’t look as he used to in a baseball uniform. I wonder what he and Gerhart had on the carpet.”
“Oh, probably Gerhart wanted him to go to some sporty gambling affair. I hear he plays quite a high game at cards.”
“Who?”
“Gerhart. Lots of the freshmen of our college have found his pace too fast for them. He and Langridge are thicker than ever. Probably Gerhart wanted some new easy-marks to win from, and is trying to take up with the Boxer Hall boys.”
“Shouldn’t wonder. But Stoddard turned him down cold.”