“Right you are, kiddo! But that isn’t saying a whole lot. Some of those guys were pretty green, I thought. Did you see the game?” He looked at Merriman and the latter shook his head.
“No, I would have liked to, for, although I never played, I’m a regular football fan. But I don’t have much time for the games. I take it that you played today.”
“Me? A little. They put me in for the last quarter. Guess they didn’t have any one else.”
“Where do you play?” asked Merriman.
“Tackle, guard, anywhere around there. It’s a great game, football. I’d rather play it than—than study Latin! Say, you’re the guy that has the puppies, aren’t you? Foster was telling me. I’d like to see ’em. I’m crazy about dogs.”
“Come around some day,” replied Merriman cordially. “You’ll find me in usually between nine and ten and one and two.”
“I’ll just do that little thing,” Joe agreed. “Gee, if I had a place to keep one of ’em I’d fall for it. Maybe if I find a room outside I’ll buy one off you.”
“Glad to sell you one, Dobbins. I’ve got five that I don’t need. Well, I must be getting back. By the way, I’m home all the morning tomorrow. If you like to drop around I’ll be glad to show you my children.”
“It’s a go,” said Joe heartily. “Have ’em all dressed up for company, eh? I’ll be there.”
“Nice guy,” observed Joe when Merriman had taken his departure. “I sure do like a fellow that looks cheerful. Ever notice how many of the chaps here look like they’d just eaten a sour pickle, Foster? It doesn’t cost a cent more to look cheerful, either.”