"What's going to be left of this Queen's School eleven when that's over?" inquired the Codfish. "Why, I wouldn't give a plugged nickel for Queen's chances."
"You're a pessimist!" said Jimmy. "Have you been down to see us work?"
"Have I been down? Oh, Master Turner, what a question! Of course I've been down, and that's the reason I'm pessimistic."
"Oh, we're not so bad," said Jimmy, laying aside his book to argue a little. "We might get away with one or two of them, even if we did lose most of our good players."
"Most of your good players? Why, you lost all of them, didn't you?"
"Where does Jimmy come in?" inquired Frank mildly.
"And where does Frank come in?" questioned Jimmy quietly.
"Mutual admiration societies never affected my judgment," said the Codfish. "Jimmy can't play all the game behind the line, and Frank the Drop Kicker hasn't grown up yet into the husky giant that you are, Turner. Anyway, Dixon wouldn't have Frank on the team if he could help it. You forget that Chip owns the School, don't you?"
"Not a bit of it, and Frank might get his chance sooner than you think, Mr. Critic," said Jimmy. "Did you notice what a shine Horton took to him to-day?"
"Don't be sarcastic, now," said Frank. "Horton had some of us kicking down on the field to-day, and he said that my style was all wrong and I'd never be any good until I changed it. But I'm not to be considered at all. I'm going out for the fall baseball."