'What are you playing at?' enquired Charteris.
'Where do you keep your footer things?'
'What do you want with my footer things, if you don't mind my asking?'
'I'm going to help you put them on, and then you're coming for a run.'
'Ah,' said Charteris.
'Yes. Just a gentle spin to keep you in training. Hullo, this looks like them.'
He plunged both hands into a box near the window and flung out a mass of football clothes. It reminded Charteris of a terrier digging at a rabbit-hole.
He protested.
'Don't, Babe. Treat 'em tenderly. You'll be spoiling the crease in those bags if you heave 'em about like that. I'm very particular about how I look on the football field. I was always taught to dress myself like a little gentleman, so to speak. Well, now you've seen them, put 'em away.'
'Put 'em on,' said the Babe firmly.