“Yes, on my grammar school team.”
“That’s good. Buckle down to it, for we may need you badly before long.”
He nodded pleasantly and turned back to his charges, and Dan walked across the field and joined a ring of candidates who were falling on the ball. It was the awkward squad, but Dan didn’t mind that; he didn’t mean to stay there very long. Later there was practice in starting and running down under kicks, and when practice was over Dan was quite ready to quit work. When he stepped out of the shower, glowing from head to foot, he bumped against Alfred Loring, who, with a big bath towel clutched about him, was talking over his shoulder to another chap.
“Beg pardon,” exclaimed Loring. “Hello, are you with us? Glad to see you. What are you trying for?”
“End,” answered Dan.
“Good work! Played there, have you?”
“Yes, a couple of years. But I guess I’m too light for the team here.”
Loring stepped back, put his head on one side and looked Dan over.
“Oh, I don’t know,” he said. “What’s your weight?”