“Yes, we will—not!” scoffed Jerry. “You were the whole right side of the line last year, Tom! What are we going to do now? We’ll stand a fat chance of winning anything, won’t we?”
But Jerry’s indignation soon wore itself out and he changed the subject to the new motor truck.
“I suppose you won’t want me and Julius Cæsar now?” he said.
“Not after to-morrow, Jerry. You lose your job then.”
“Well, I’m sort of glad, because it takes a lot of a fellow’s time; and now that football has begun——” Jerry paused. “Say, I wonder if Will would mind driving the wagon to-morrow afternoon, Tom,” he went on. “You see, I want to go over to Finley Falls with the team. I guess there isn’t much chance of my getting into the game, and if I do go I’ll have to pay my own fare, but I’d sort of like to see it. Think he’d mind, Tom?”
“No, I guess not. He isn’t going himself, is he?”
“Will? I don’t think so.”
“No,” said Teddy. “I asked him this morning. I offered to drive the express wagon for him, Tom, but he insulted me.”
“What’s the matter with letting Spider do it?” asked Tom.