“Why, he will get the place, won’t he? You want the best man there, don’t you?”
“Rather! But Roover’s tried pretty hard for it. I mean, I’d be sorry if he lost out. He had hard luck last fall, you know. Got sick in the middle of the season and didn’t even get his letter. I suppose he’s hoping to make good this year.”
“What of it? He’s got another year after this. The trouble with you, Tom, is that you can’t forget your friendships on the gridiron. It won’t do, believe me. Friendship ceases at three-fifteen, or it ought to, when you’re captain. If it wasn’t for Mr. Lyle you’d have Sim Clarke playing end and Snow at guard and—and all the rest of your cronies—including me—on the team, and it would be a bum outfit. Friendship’s no good when it comes to picking a team, Tom.”
“Nonsense!” retorted the other. He didn’t seem displeased, though. “Of course I’d like to have my friends on the team; any fellow would; but they won’t get any favoritism from me.”
“Oh, no, none at all!” answered Arnold, buttoning his vest. “Look here, old dear, if I ever suspect that you’re trying to put me across because I’m a friend I’ll quit the team cold!”
“Oh, rot! You know perfectly well that you and Bates are the best we have for the position, and as far as I’m concerned I don’t care which of you gets it.”
“Stick to that and all will be well! What time have you got? I wonder what’s happened to Frank and——”
Toby’s appearance interrupted him and a minute later they were on their way, picking up Frank Lamson outside. They were going to the movies in Greenburg, the larger town across the river. There was a small moving picture theater in Wissining, no more than half a mile from school, that was well patronized by Yardley, but in Greenburg there were three of them to choose from, and to-night the boys had secured leave for the whole evening and so had plenty of time to make the longer journey. Besides, at Greenburg you got two pictures and listened to real music from an organ, while at the local house your entertainment was over in an hour and the piano was very tin-panny. Tom Fanning ranged beside Toby on the way down the hill and Arnold and Frank followed. Tom was still full of football and optimism, and Toby heard a good deal about the team’s wonderful prospects and didn’t have to do any of the talking. By the time the bridge was reached, however, Tom had worked off some of his enthusiasm and inquired about Toby’s fortunes.
“Arn says he finally persuaded you to try for the Second,” he said. “Like it?”
“Yes, I like it very well,” answered Toby. “Only I can’t seem to take it as seriously as most of the fellows. Ought I to, Fanning? What I mean is, just how important is playing football on the Second Team? I wanted to quit last week and Arnold had a fit and Grover Beech read the riot act to me. I thought football, especially Second Team football, was a lark, but I’m beginning to think that it’s not!”