“I’m off to the sacrifice then,” he murmured. “By the way, don’t make any engagement for to-morrow, please. I want you to have dinner with me at the house. Afterwards, if it doesn’t rain”—Gerald looked anxiously at the bank of haze along the horizon—“we’ll kick along shore in the launch. See you later.”
As the door closed Kendall, picking up his Cicero, smiled. It wasn’t very likely that he would have had an engagement on Sunday! Then the smile faded and he wondered, as he went out, what sort of an appearance he would make at Sound View. He had been there once before, but there had been several others with him and the occasion had been most informal. Sunday dinner, he reflected ruefully, was a different proposition. Perhaps, however, his blue serge suit, purchased in Greenburg last Spring and pretty well worn since, would do if it were well brushed. As he reached the stairs The Duke clattered down the flight above and overtook him. The Duke was radiant in a suit of intensely blue flannel, the coat of which, cut extremely low and secured with two buttons, allowed a generous view of a vividly pink shirt. The Duke was bare-headed and his coppery hair showed evidences of having been recently wet and brushed.
“Hello, Burtis,” he greeted, ranging himself alongside. “I’ve got grand news for you.”
Kendall looked politely curious.
“Yes, sir, stu-pend-ous news! Mr. Charles Cotton is going out for the football team!” The Duke chuckled. “Can you imagine it? Picture the doughty Charles hurling himself fiercely against the—the craven foe, his eyes lighted with the joy of battle and the ball clasped desperately to his heaving chest! Get it? What? He told me of his decision this morning, his epoch-marking decision. Epoch-marking is some language, what? I’ve been simply bursting with the news ever since, but you’re the first fellow I’ve told. My word, but I’ll bet Payson will be pleased!” He looked at Kendall and grinned. “Simply lays you flat, doesn’t it? Can’t express yourself at all, what? I knew you’d be overcome. I congratulated Charles with tears in my voice, Burtis. I said to him, ‘Charles, my boy, this is indeed a happy moment for the old school. I thank you. I thank you on behalf of my schoolmates, Charles, on behalf of the team, on behalf of the coach and the captain! And I thank you on my own behalf, Charles, for you have brought joy to my sad heart, light to my weary eyes and laughter to my lips!’ Yes, sir, I said all that. And do you think he was pleased? Not a bit of it! He turned upon me like—like a viper and called me—well, I think I’d better not tell you what he called me. It was distinctly in bad taste.”
Kendall laughed and The Duke, encouraged, rattled on. “Now the question is whether we’d better divulge the news all at once or sort of prepare folks for it. I tell you it’s going to make an awful difference to the team, having Cotton on it. With his noble example before you, you fellows can’t help but go in and win. I hope Broadwood won’t hear about it. If she did she’d probably disband her team to-morrow.”
“Has he ever played before?” asked Kendall as they joined the throng crowding its way into Oxford.
“No, never, I believe. I think he offered his services last year wherever he was, but they were not accepted. He lays the fact to jealousy. Isn’t it sad such things can be? Where are you headed? Latin? Me, too. And that reminds me that I forgot to do my composition. Won’t Collins be pleased!”
If the Assistant Principal was pleased he didn’t allow the fact to become evident, for he said several dryly sarcastic things to The Duke and ended by suggesting to him that he deliver the Latin composition to him at his room not later than six o’clock that evening. Whereupon The Duke, cheerful and forgiving, promised to accept the suggestion and the Orations of Marcus Tullius Cicero engaged the attention of the class.
As it was Saturday, football practice began at three o’clock instead of four. Kendall joined the stream of candidates that flowed from the gymnasium locker room to the field and wondered whether Coach Payson would see fit to start him to-day with the first squad. Kendall’s opinion of his football ability was modest, but he firmly believed that, while there was undoubtedly plenty left for him to learn, he could play half-back as well as either Fayette or Crandall, players who thus far enjoyed the call for the position he coveted. However, he kept this opinion to himself, which was a wise thing to do.