"No, not so clearly as the first time; the moon, you know, is on the wane now, and the grounds were darker, but still light enough to show pretty plainly. It was the same figure, and seemed to move pretty swiftly, faster than a walk, I should say, and slower than a run, and, as before, it was above the ground."
"Well, it beats me," said Jimmy. "I've never heard of anything like it. I must be getting along. Here comes Gleason now. Good-bye, old speed. I'll see you later," and Jimmy turned away, as Gleason came up.
"Telling him what the score is going to be this afternoon, old Web-foot?" inquired Gleason.
"No, Codfish, I was telling him about the second visitation of that thing down on the grounds by the river. When this football season is over, I'm going to lay for that old ghost or whatever it is."
"Oh, I wouldn't do that," said Gleason, "you don't know what might happen. I've heard of people who tried a hand with ghosts and their hair turned white in a single night from sheer fright. I wouldn't like to see my trusty wife in such a condition as that."
"Just the same I'd like to take a closer look at that thing, and I don't believe I'd be afraid; but at present there is something else to be done, and that's to get something to eat and get down to the grounds in time for a good seat."
"Looks like a big crowd to-day. Guess these Warwickers have all left their happy homes to see the slaughter, and I'm afraid they're not going to be disappointed," said Gleason.
"Oh, don't lose heart, you can't tell. There may be a Freshman in the game before it's through, and that will help a lot." Frank threw this last word over his shoulder to Gleason as he hurried to the dining-room. Coming from the hall, after a hastily snatched bite, he overtook the Wee One, and together they journeyed to the gymnasium, where both teams were to dress for the fray, Warwick having been given the big locker room on the second floor, while Queen's retained the lower floor.
As they approached the gymnasium a big coach drove down the river road in a cloud of dust. It was positively covered with boys. It bore the football eleven of Warwick and its immediate crowd of heelers. Wherever a boy could stick, he had stuck himself, and every one swung the colors of the school.
"Gee whiz, look at those mastodons," cried Wee Willie as the Warwick players began to uncoil themselves from various parts of the coach. "They'll eat us alive. I know they must be cannibals. Poor Queen's, poor Queen's."