That night Frank wrote to his mother: "Mother, I have a chance, only a chance, mind you, to make the team that is going to England to represent Yale and Harvard. If I win a place are you and dad willing to let me go?"
And the answer came back on the next mail: "Yes."
"That settles it," cried Frank, flourishing the letter above his head as he capered about the room. "I'll win out or die trying."
The Codfish spoke up: "Perhaps you don't know that I'm going too."
"For what?" inquired Frank.
"To see that you keep in strict training and out of mischief."
"You actually mean you would go across if I should make the team?"
"Bettcher life," came the quick answer. "I've got to do something this summer, and I can't imagine anything better than to see the Johnny Bulls properly tanned."
"Jimmy, how about you?" inquired Frank.