“Huh, you big elephant,” said I, “if I couldn’t play the old game better than you ever dreamed of playing it——”
“Gee, I hate to ’fess up,” groaned Joe. “I’ll look such an ass, Babe!”
Babe looked across suspiciously, and grunted. “Any one coming with your folks, kid?” he asked.
Joe nodded and reddened. “They’re bringing along a girl I know.”
“Huh! So that’s it, eh? Thought you weren’t telling the whole of it. The girl thinks you’re a bloomin’ hero, of course. You’ve been filling her up with yarns about how you were the whole team, and how you won last year’s game with Munson alone and unassisted, and—”
“Oh, shut up,” begged Joe. “I never did! But you know what girls are, Babe. Have a heart!”
Babe looked flattered, and positively simpered, the big goof! You couldn’t get him within half a block of a girl if you tried! He scowled and pretended he didn’t know what I was laughing about, and said: “Well, you might bandage a leg or an arm, Joe, and make believe you’d busted it.”
But Joe shook his head. “They’d ask about it and I’d have to lie,” he said virtuously. “I thought of that, too. I’ve thought of about everything, I guess, and nothing’s any good—except——”
He stopped and sort of choked. “’Cept what?” asked Babe.