“What’s the matter with you lately, old chap?” asked Tom. “You’re as grumpy as a bear with a sore nose. Has your girl gone back on you?”
“There you go again!” burst out Sid. “Always talking about girls! I declare, since those pictures and things are up in the room, you two have gone daffy! I’ll have ’em all down, first thing you know.”
“If you do, we’ll chuck you in the river,” promised Phil.
Thus, amid much good-natured banter, though to an outsider it might not sound so, the supper went on. There was more hazing that night, in which Phil and Tom had a share, but Sid would not come out, saying he had to study.
“Come on, Tom,” called Phil the next afternoon, “all out for the first real line-up of the season. I’m going to run the ’varsity against the scrub, and I want to see how I make out.”
“Has the ’varsity eleven all been picked out?” asked Tom anxiously.
“Practically so, though, of course, there will be changes.”
“I wonder if I——”
“You’re to go at left-end. Come on, and we’ll get our togs on.”