“That’s so,” Tom agreed. “I’ll bet I’d be batty in no time if I was cap. I hope Dan gets over it before next Saturday, though.”
“He will. Payson will steady him down all right.”
“I daresay. Poor old Dan sure did play a punk game to-day.”
“He kicked that goal in good shape, though,” said Gerald.
“You’re right,” Tom agreed. “It was a dandy. Almost as good as that friend of yours could have done, Arthur.”
“What friend of mine?”
Tom winked at Gerald. “Why, that chap you saw kicking goals in your sleep that day.”
“I wasn’t asleep,” answered Arthur with a frown. “I don’t care if he couldn’t be found; I saw him all right.”
“Well, if there is such a chap,” said Tom, “why doesn’t he show up? Payson has hunted the whole school through.”
“I have an idea,” said Gerald, “that he wasn’t one of our fellows at all, that he was some village chap who came up and used the field knowing there wouldn’t be anyone there in the morning.”