“Haven’t seen him since before supper,” replied Horace, with a sigh as he leaned back from his studying and stretched his arms overhead. “I don’t think he’s been back here since he went down. I only came in about half an hour ago, though. Want to see him? He may be over in Dudley. He and a fellow named Dunphy are sort of thick. I don’t know the number.”
“I’ll wait a few minutes if I’m not keeping you from studying. Maybe he will be in.”
“Glad to have you,” replied Horace eagerly. “Try the big chair. It’s all right if you don’t lean back too hard. Did you hear about the wallop Tubb got this afternoon?”
“Yes, Deering told me about it. Does he think Frick did it?”
“He says he knows he did! You ought to have heard him go on about it!” Horace chuckled. “Gee, he was mad!”
“You don’t suppose he’s—he’s looking for Frick now, do you?”
“By Jove! I wonder if he is! No, I don’t think so, though. He had sort of cooled down by supper time. He looked like a South Sea pirate, Tucker. They plastered his face all over and it hurt him to talk, I guess. Not that that kept him quiet, though!”
“Well, I wish I knew for sure——” muttered Toby. “If he gets to scrapping with Frick and faculty learns of it——”
“I don’t believe he will, honest. He said something about that, something about wishing football was over so he could show Frick a good time.”
Toby remained a half-hour longer, during which conversation touched on many subjects, and then, as he was leaving, Tubb appeared. He seemed in unusually good spirits and greeted the visitor almost boisterously, and wouldn’t hear of Toby’s departing yet. “I’ve been over to Dudley seeing a fellow named Dunphy,” he explained. “Know him?”