“Yes, on the track.” Kendall shook his head.
“Well, you’d better come out in the spring and try for the Track Team,” said Gerald. “With those legs of yours you ought to be able to just eat up the cinders. Good-by. See you again.”
Kendall found Harold Towne stretched out on his bed, reading.
“Hello!” said Harold, “how did you like—” Then he caught sight of Kendall’s attire and a broad grin overspread his face. “Well, say, where on earth did you get that costume?”
“What’s the matter with it?” asked Kendall in surprise.
“What’s the matter with it! You look like a scarecrow! Have you been out for practice like that?”
“Yes. I hadn’t anything else. Vinton said—”
“Well, I’ll bet you made ’em laugh, Burtis. Say, don’t tell anyone you room with me, will you?”
“I won’t,” replied Kendall emphatically. Harold stared a moment. There was something in the tone he didn’t like. Finally,
“Where have you been since practice?” he asked.