“Oh, they aren’t much different from last year,” replied Jeffrey consolingly.
“Yes, they are; they’re different every season. Every time any one thinks of a new wrinkle he writes to the Rules Committee about it and they stick it in. Well, you won’t see me around here to-morrow! It’s me for the tall timber!”
“Oh, shucks, Jim, see it through. You can tell Sargent you aren’t a star—”
“Tell him! Why, didn’t I try to tell him?” exclaimed Jim irritably. “He wouldn’t let me get a word in edgewise.”
“He was afraid you would try to beg off,” laughed Jeffrey.
“He didn’t give me a chance,” replied Jim ruefully. “Guess I’ll just have to hike out to the woods or he will get me sure.”
“I don’t think I’d do that. See it through. You’ll like it after you get started. Why, the first game’s on Saturday. Maybe Sargent will put you in in his place, Jim!”
“Dry up. They’re going to scrimmage. Let’s get nearer the middle of the field.”
The scrimmage wasn’t very encouraging that day. There was a good deal more fumbling than there should have been and it was plain to be seen that neither first nor second team had thoroughly learned its signals. When it was over Jim and Jeff cut across the field and took the road back to Sunnywood.