“Quite a bit,” answered the other carelessly. “I captained the Port Foster High team last fall.”
“Must have then! Where’d you play?”
“Position? Left half. End the year before that. What do you play?”
“Me? Oh, most anything in the line. I’m not fussy. Played tackle most of last year. Like to play guard better, though. Football’s a great game, isn’t it?”
“Not bad,” acknowledged Myron. “By the way, who was the fellow you were so thick with at supper tonight?”
“Him? Name’s Keith or something. Played on last year’s team and was coaching the linemen today. Nice guy. Bet he can play, too.”
“Looked rather light to me,” commented Myron.
“Think so? Maybe. Anyway, he knows how to drill the line, or I’m a Dutchman. What time is it? I’m getting sleepy. You weren’t over at the party, were you?”
“No, it didn’t interest me. As I’m not going to stay, why be bored by that sort of thing?”
“Hm,” said Joe.