“Three cheers for Hatfield. Good old Yale cheers!”
The gymnasium rang with them, and then came the Boola song, after which the crowd formed in close line and did the serpentine dance.
“Now then, get busy!” commanded Mr. Benson. “Old players over that side, and the new ones here. Give in your names, and say where you’ve played. Lively now!”
He and Mr. Whitfield began circulating among the candidates, and, as they approached him, Joe felt his heart beginning to beat faster. Would he have a chance? And, if he got it, could he make good?
These were the questions he asked him.
“Name?”
“Matson—Joe.”
“Hum. Yes. Ever played before?”
“Yes, on a school nine.”