“You sometimes are, you know,” agreed Neil mildly.
“Well, when a fellow makes you think he doesn’t like you——” Stuart paused. “I’m going to put you up again for Lyceum right after Christmas recess, and you’ll go through like a shot.”
“All right. Thanks. Now will you kindly let me go ahead with this? Even if you never study, I’ve got to occasionally!”
“What a rotten subject to mention,” groaned Stuart. “I’m in a regular mess with Greek. But a fellow simply can’t get his mind on things like that in the last week of the season. After we’ve trimmed Pearsall——” He stopped and was silent a moment. Then: “Know something, Neil?” he asked abruptly.
Neil nodded without looking up again. “A little something,” he murmured.
“We’re going to get licked Saturday,” announced Stuart in dismal tones. “Something tells me so.”
“That so? What time is it?”
“Quarter to six—nearly.”
“Wait half an hour then and something will tell you differently. I’ve always noticed that you’re a bit of a pessimist just before mealtime!”
“Oh, go to the dickens,” murmured Stuart.