“Tom’s still sore,” murmured Sid to Frank.
“Can’t blame him. You’d be too.”
Then conversation was interrupted by the splashing of water, to be succeeded by various grunts and puffings, as the boys vigorously rubbed down after their practice.
“Telegram for you, Mr. Parsons,” announced one of the messengers about the college, as he met our hero coming from the gymnasium. “I’ve been up to your room, but you weren’t there.”
“Thanks,” murmured Tom, as he ripped off the end of the yellow envelope. His companions watched his face curiously as he read the message.
“Hum, I’ve got to go home,” announced Tom, a moment later.