Boxer Hall, Fairview and Exter had their cheer leaders at work, and a riot of “melody,” if such it can be called, welled forth. It was a beautifully sunshiny day, just warm enough, and the track, with the new hurdles supplied by Randall, was in perfect shape.
“There are the girls!” exclaimed Phil, as he and his chums started toward the dressing rooms.
This announcement, that never is without its heart-interest, no matter where made, had the usual effect. Tom and Sid at once demanded:
“Where?”
“Right in front of you,” replied Phil. “Can’t you see ’em waving?”
“Let’s go over and say ‘how-d’ye-do,’ and then get into our togs,” proposed Tom. “I don’t want to go over in that crowd after I get into my Roman toga.”
“Bashful!” taunted Frank.
“I’m not so stuck on myself as you are,” retorted Tom, and then he dodged to escape a playful blow.
“Oh, there’s no use asking us to cheer for you,” said Ruth, as her brother and his chums drew near. “We’re loyal to Fairview,” and she waved a flag of her college colors in his face.
“Wait until you’re asked, Sis,” retorted Phil. “We don’t need your cheers. Listen to Bean and his bunch.”