“Well, what’s your trouble?” Sid observed him in surprise. “You sound as if you were sorry for him!”
“Frick? No, I was only thinking that if there was any trouble about it—whoever did it——”
“Oh, he’s not likely to tell, I guess,” Sid chuckled. “Probably he will say he fell downstairs or something! Well, see you later. Thought you’d be interested in hearing the sad news. So long!”
After a two o’clock recitation Toby returned to Number 12 to leave his books before going to the field and found a gray card awaiting him. Toby had seen gray cards before and knew what they meant, but this time his conscience was fairly untroubled and he wondered a good deal as he read the printed form:
“The Principal desires to see Tobias Tucker in the School Office before 6 p.m.”
Even the clearest conscience will experience qualms on receipt of such a document, and Toby sat down, card in hand, and asked himself what it portended. It might be that bothersome Latin, although just of late it hadn’t been going half badly and his instructor had even given him an approving word but a day or two since. Of course it was conceivable that a student might be summoned to the Office on some matter not concerned with misdemeanors or derelictions. For instance, Toby told himself, Doctor Collins might want to ask his advice regarding the administration of Yardley Hall School!
Well, anyhow, he reflected presently, he had until six to keep the appointment, and meanwhile it was getting close to practice time, and whatever the matter might be it could wait. So he kicked off his shoes in favor of a pair of rubber-soled “sneakers” and donned his oldest jacket and set forth.
If troubles never come singly, as they say, the same may be said of surprises. Toby’s second surprise that day came when the whistle had put an end to a hard-fought battle with First Team in which he had again kept the quarter-back position throughout. Possibly the fact that Frick was not on hand may have had something to do with that, for Rawson and Stair had been left well behind in the race for supremacy. In any case, Toby put in forty minutes of actual playing and ran his team well, although no score came to the Second to-day. Walking back to the bench for his sweater, he heard his name called. Coaches Lyle and Burtis were standing together nearby and it was Mr. Burtis who had spoken. Toby joined them.
“You know Mr. Lyle, Tucker?” asked the Second Team coach. Wonderingly Toby shook hands. “Mr. Lyle thinks he needs you on the First,” continued Mr. Burtis. “Sorry to lose you, Tucker, but we’re almost through, and I guess you may be able to help out over there.”
Toby looked bewildered. “You mean you want me—that I’m to go to the First Team, sir?”