“Oh, cut it out!” It was the old Tubby once more. “You make me sick, you do, Pennimore. What’s the good of lying about it? You know blamed well you wouldn’t care if I never came back.”
“Not when you talk that way,” returned Gerald with spirit. “But when you’re nice—”
Tubby laughed and flushed. They had reached the entrance to Oxford.
“You’re a queer guy,” he said, and nodded. “Well, so long. See you again maybe. Don’t forget the note to Payson.”
“I won’t. Good-bye, Jones. I hope you’ll have a pleasant visit home.”
“Oh, I’m sure to,” answered Tubby ironically. “They’ll all be terribly pleased to see me! So long!”
He disappeared into the building and Gerald turned his steps toward the gymnasium, seeking Dan and Payson.
But he wasn’t destined to find Dan just then, for that youth was two miles away, loitering dejectedly along the shore. Dinner had been at twelve o’clock, a breathless, excited repast for everyone, Dan thought, save himself. He had felt terribly out of it all, and, although he desired Yardley to win the game as much as any of her supporters, he felt that he couldn’t remain around school to watch the fellows trooping down to the field. He had eaten little and his dinner was soon over. Afterwards he had wandered across the Prospect and the railway bridge and, without thinking, had plunged into the woods.
For awhile his main desire had been to place distance between himself and the school, to get away somewhere where he wouldn’t keep recollecting every minute what he had missed. But one can’t walk away from recollection, and, although he had tramped a good two miles along the Sound, his thoughts were still on the game. What a game it would be! And how he hated Williams who would have his place at left end! If only it wasn’t the last game of the year! Who knew what might happen before next Fall; why, he might be dead or something! Perhaps to-day was his last chance to play, and here he was on probation—!