“No, but you can’t run with a pail of water without splashing most of it out. Look at that! Why not use a can or something with a lid? Who is that chap? Whoever he is, they’re taking him out. It’s Adler, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know him. Somebody’s given him a nasty looking eye, though.”
“I should say so! Yes, that’s Adler. He’s after Cousins’s place. Who’s the funny looking guy Payson’s sending in?”
“Oh, his name is Cotton. He doesn’t look much as though he could play end, does he?”
“Cotton?” Harry watched the substitute run on to the field. “Who is he?”
“I don’t know. I met him a week or so ago. He’s rooming with The Duke in Clarke. He’s new this Fall.”
“Funny,” muttered Harry, “but I seem to know that chap. Name sounds familiar, too. Cotton ... Cotton....”
“He’s a protégé of Kendall’s,” said Gerald. “Kendall has taken pity on him because he’s new and doesn’t know many fellows. He asked him around and he came last Sunday while we were away. Left his visiting card! What do you know about that for style?”
“Well, whoever he is, he can’t play end,” said Harry in disgust. “That Greenburg tackle is making him look like a canceled stamp——”