“Going to Yale; eh?” went on the youth’s voice, and Joe felt sure he was Ford Weston. “Well, we eat his kind up down there!”
“Hush! You mustn’t talk so of my friends,” warned Mabel, and yet she laughed.
“Oh, if he’s a friend of yours, that’s different,” came the retort. “You’re awful strong with me, Mabel, and I’d do anything you asked.”
The girl laughed in a pleased sort of way, and Joe, with a wild feeling in his heart, felt a certain scorn for both of them.
“Yes, he and my brother are chums,” resumed Mabel. “They went to boarding school together, but Joe is going to Yale. He is just crazy about baseball—in fact Tom is, too, but Joe wants to be a great pitcher.”
“Does he think he’s going to pitch at Yale?”
“I believe he does!”
“Then he’s got a whole lot more thinks coming!” laughed the Yale man. “He’s about the craziest specimen of a tosser I ever stacked up against. He’ll never make the Yale scrub!”
“Hush! Haven’t I told you not to talk so about my friend?” insisted the girl, but there was still laughter in her tones.