"I guess I can run across lots, and spend half an hour with you, Toby," Jack announced; "though I couldn't promise to stay late, because I ought to be doing some of my lessons, you know. This football work afternoons throws everything out of gear."
"Sorry to say I'll have to beg off this time," said Steve. "Fact is, I've got a date, and couldn't break away very easily. Another time will have to do, Toby. And of course whatever you and Jack decide on goes with me, you understand."
In fact it was almost always that way, such unlimited confidence had both Toby and Steve come to place in Jack Winters. But then he merited all their high esteem, for rarely did things go wrong when Jack's hand was at the helm; he seemed to be one of those fellows whose judgment is right nine times out of ten. Looking back, the Chester lads could begin to understand what a great day it had been for them when Jack came to town, full of ideas which he had imbibed in the lively city where his folks had formerly lived.
"I'm more than ever convinced," Toby went on to say, reflectively, "that we'll be able to put a flier on the ice this coming winter that will have everything beaten a mile. It works out all right in theory anyway."
"The proof of the pudding is in the eating," chuckled Steve, who apparently was not built along quite as sanguine lines as Toby. "But then it'll be a heap of fun to try something new. All the iceboats I've ever seen around here have always been built after the same old model. Nobody ever seemed to think they could be improved on the least bit; and that it was only a matter of the pilot jockeying in order to blanket his rival and win out."
"Joe Hooker seems to be taking considerable stock in what we're doing to build up a machine for gridiron work," mentioned Jack, with a ring of satisfaction in his voice. "I certainly hope we can make things hum around here this Fall. Chester's hour has struck, it seems; and after our baseball victories we ought to be just in time to carry our colors to a sweeping triumph over Harmony and Marshall."
"Some of the boys are showing up splendidly," Steve continued. "I'm a whole lot disappointed, though, in my work today, but I expect to improve, and hope to make the team when the final choice is reached."
"Huh! I guess there isn't much chance of you being dropped, Steve," snorted Toby. "I only wish I was as sure of being retained on the honor roll. That run of mine today was as punk a thing as any greenhorn could have attempted. I saw Joe look at me as if he'd like to eat me, and I felt so small I could have crawled into any old rat- hole. But I mean to surprise him yet, see if I don't. I've got the faith to believe I can play quarterback, and I will, I tell you; I'm thinking of it most of the night while I lie awake."
"That kind of grit will take you a long ways, Toby, believe me, "said Jack encouragingly. "All of us fall far short of perfection; but Joe is persistent and I've no doubt he already knows just who the members of the team will be, barring accidents, also the substitutes in the bargain."
"We were mighty lucky to have such a dandy coach right at hand," declared Steve; "and Mr. Taft is the best sort of a man to lend him to us so much, at a loss to himself. He contributed heavily to the fund for building the gym, too, I understand."