“Towne hasn’t shown up yet?” he asked.
“Not yet. They say at the Office that he is expected, but I have a notion he isn’t coming back.”
“You’ll be heart-broken about it, of course,” said Gerald, sympathetically. But there was a smile in his blue eyes.
Kendall looked across gravely. “Well, I got sort of used to him,” he answered. “Maybe they’d put some other fellow in I wouldn’t get along with as well. I suppose you miss Vinton a good deal, Pennimore. He was an awfully fine chap, wasn’t he?”
“Yes. Yes, I miss him a lot. You see, we were together three years here in school and we spent some of our vacations together, too. I’ve traveled with older fellows ever since I came here and now they’re about all gone. I suppose it’s a mistake not to pick your friends from your own class, but I couldn’t very well help myself. I had rather a hard time of it when I first struck this place.” Gerald smiled reminiscently. “You see, Burtis, I was handicapped by having a father so wealthy that everyone knew about him. Then, too, I’ve lived in the summer right here within a mile of the school. So when I came a lot of the fellows were down on me. They used to call me ‘Miss Nancy’ and ‘Money-bags’ and things like that, and I was pretty miserable for a while. If it hadn’t been for Dan and two or three other fellows, fellows like Alf Loring and Tom Dyer, I’d have given it up, I guess. Well, I’m glad I didn’t. How are the football prospects this year, Burtis? Are we going to do the usual thing to Broadwood?”
“I don’t know much about them. I hear that we’ve only got two or three first-string men left from last year, though.”
“Yes, but we’ve got a lot of good subs and fellows from last year’s Second. I suppose you’re fairly certain of a place, Burtis.”
“I don’t know,” replied Kendall slowly. “I haven’t had much experience, you see.”
“Experience! Great Scott, you had experience enough to go in in the last minute and land a goal from the forty-yard line!”