“I didn’t have any pull. They don’t care how well you play. If you don’t know the fellows——”
“Hm,” said Gibson thoughtfully. “Well, say, if you aren’t crazy to see the end of the game, Cotton, why don’t you turn around and walk back to Greenburg with me? I’ll treat to a soda, if you like, and we’ll have a chin.”
“Sure! I don’t care about the game. It must be almost over now, anyway. But what were you doing over here, Gibson?” Cotton frowned his perplexity.
“Me? Oh, just watching.” Gibson winked slowly and meaningly.
“By Jove!” Cotton smiled delightedly. “That’s your game, eh? Did you get anything?”
“Think I’d tell you if I did?” laughed Gibson, taking the other boy’s arm.
“Oh, shucks!” said Cotton. “You can trust me, old man; you know that.”
“Well, come along and I’ll tell you about it.”