“What’s the matter?” asked Arnold, grinning.
“Matter? Why?”
“I thought you made a face when you stood up. My mistake, of course!”
“I don’t know what you’re getting at,” declared Toby with great dignity. “If you think that a little football practice—ouch! Gee!” He sat down again on the window seat and rubbed his back ruefully, while the others laughed with wicked glee.
“It won’t do, old thing! There’s no use stalling. You’re as bad as I was yesterday, when you had the beautiful cheek to sit there and read me a lecture on not keeping fit! Where does it hurt worst?”
“All over,” groaned Toby. “I’ll be all right after I move around a while, though. That’s one advantage of being in fine physical condition: you may get a bit lame but you get right over it!”
“Isn’t he the wonderful bluffer?” asked Arnold admiringly to Frank. “Well, go ahead and move around, old thing. It’s five minutes of, and we want to get over there before seven.”
“Tell me one thing first,” begged Toby, squirming about from his waist up. “Do they have cushions on the seats at the movie house?”
“Oh, yes, and they’ll give you a couple of pillows at the ticket office if you ask for ’em,” answered Frank. “Hustle now!”