Billy took a fresh start and began on Bob Perrin. He allowed you to understand by the tone of his voice that there was a ray of hope, after all, but that you weren’t by any means to think the patient out of danger. He told about the fine work done by Bob last year on the Freshman team and how if he would spring into the breach all might yet be well. Billy said so many nice things about Bob that I couldn’t see how his father could help looking a bit proud. He didn’t, though. He just kept his eyes on Billy and waited. It seemed as if his watchful waiting game was getting on Billy’s nerves, for Billy stumbled once or twice and his voice began to flatten out a little. He took the ground that in such a stupendous crisis as then confronted the college—the college we all loved—Billy’s voice sort of took on a tremolo effect there—all selfish thoughts and desires should be brushed aside. At such a time it was the duty of all loyal sons of Harvard to—to put their shoulders to the wheel, to banish prejudices, to forget self and—er—strive as one man to avert the disaster that threatened to engulf their glorious Alma Mater.
Said Mr. Perrin: “Did Bob send you out here?”
“No, Mr. Perrin, your son does not know of our visit. Mr. Porter, our Head Coach, tried to persuade him to play, but he replied that he was bound by a promise to you and that it would not be fair for him to ask to be released from it. It was then that Mr. Porter decided to see you himself, feeling certain, as he said, that when you once realized the gravity of the situation you would eagerly and gladly give your consent to Bob’s playing.”
“Ah.” Mr. Perrin glanced at Pete and then at me. “But neither of these gentlemen is Mr. Porter, I believe?”
“No, sir. Mr. Haskell is Captain of the Varsity and Mr. Kirke is Manager. Mr. Porter was unable to come since his presence at practice is indispensable just now. We represent him, sir, and I have tried to bring you his message just as he delivered it to me. Were he here he could undoubtedly speak more convincingly, sir, but——”
“No, no,” said Mr. Perrin. “You do yourself an injustice. He could not, I am certain, have dispatched a more capable and eloquent emissary.” He paused and looked toward the windows. “Gentlemen, I am going to suggest that we go outdoors. This is much too fine a day to be inside. You will, I hope, stay to dinner with us.”
We all said we wouldn’t think of it, but he didn’t pay much attention to that.
“Let me have my way, please,” he went on. “Both Mrs. Perrin and I shall be most pleased to have you. We don’t have many opportunities to entertain, and you really must humor us. Besides, I want you to meet her, and just now she is unable to appear. Now let us take a walk. I want to show you my place. You know we folks who live in the country always drag our visitors around the grounds the first thing.”