“Your fibs, you mean! Look here, Poke, I don’t even know what the rules are this year.”
“No more does any one—except Johnny; and I sometimes think he’s just bluffing. You come up to the room after supper and Gil and I will tell you all you need to know. Between us I dare say we’ve got a fair inkling of the rules.”
“All right,” Jim agreed. “But I’m going to see Sargent to-morrow before practice and tell him the facts. I’m not going to start out under false colors.”
“Hm.” Poke considered that a moment. “Oh, all right. The main thing is to come out. Got any togs?”
“Yes, some old ones. I guess they’ll do. Guess they’ll have to. I can’t afford to buy new ones.”
“Good stuff! Get ’em out and we’ll look ’em over. Here, I’ll take that up for you. You bring the coal. You know we all agreed to help out with the chores if you went in for the team.”