"Mind the food—no hot biscuits, and that sort of thing. A dish of popovers almost put me to the bad the first time I met Bull Dunham. Fact, and he didn't know enough to counter."
Lovely dressed and hurriedly left the room.
At two o'clock, to his amazement, Charley De Soto, the great quarterback, in person, waited on him in company with the gigantic Turkey Reiter, tackle on the eleven, and informed him that they had been appointed his seconds and anxiously inquired after his welfare.
"I—oh, I'm doing pretty well, thank you, sir," said Lovely, overcome with embarrassment and pride.
"Say, Charley," said Turkey, after an approving examination, "I kind of hanker to the looks of this here bantam. He's got the proper colour hair and the protruding jaw. Danged if I don't believe he'll give the Gutter Pup the fight of his life."
"Can you lick him?" said De Soto, looking Lovely tensely in the eyes.
"I'll do it or die," said Lovely, with a lump in his throat.
"Good, but mind this, youngster: no funking. I don't stand second to any quitter. If I'm behind you, you've got to win."