“I shan’t remember it five minutes,” said Jimmy sadly. “Here he comes now, on the dead run. Say, if you see Dud Baker tell him I hope he chokes. Good-by! My love to the Eskimo Twins!”
CHAPTER IX
SOAP AND WATER
The next day Monty appeared, appropriately clad, on the football field at a few minutes before three-thirty, and gazed inquiringly around. Most, if not all, of the candidates were on hand, and the rest were dribbling along the path from the direction of the field house. Mr. Bonner, however, was not in sight, nor was Pete Gowen, and Monty wondered whether he was supposed to simply stroll out and join the nearest squad or to report to someone and get instructions. He decided to make inquiries as to the usual methods pursued in such cases, and walked up to a youth of eighteen or thereabouts, who, dressed in football togs that had apparently never been worn before, presented an immaculate and almost unapproachable appearance. He was a tall, finely-built, and very good-looking youth, but his good looks were somewhat marred by an air and expression of arrogance.
“Say, partner,” observed Monty, “I want to get into this. What do I do?”
Starling Meyer turned slowly and viewed the questioner with languid surprise and contempt, or so it seemed to Monty. Meyer’s eyebrows went up and a flicker of amusement showed in his eyes as his gaze traveled deliberately from Monty’s head to the tips of his scuffed shoes and back again. Finally: “Really,” he replied, “I don’t care what you do. But I’d suggest that you have your hair cut.”
Monty’s eyes narrowed a trifle, but he only smiled pleasantly. “You don’t understand,” he said gently. “What I wanted to know was about getting on the football team. You see, I’ve decided to play, and I don’t know whether I ought to tell the captain about it or—or what. And you looked as if you might be the coach or something.”
Meyer frowned suspiciously, but the other boy’s smile was so innocent and placating that the frown vanished, and the look of amusement deepened. Meyer even chuckled a bit. “Oh, so you’ve decided to play football, have you?” he asked. “That’s fine, isn’t it? What position have you selected?”
“I think I’d like to be one of the fellows who take the ball and run with it,” responded Monty almost shyly. “You call them halfbacks, don’t you? I can run pretty fast, I can. But Alvin Standart, who’s my roommate, says that maybe they won’t use more than two halfbacks this year, and if they don’t, I wouldn’t get to be one, because they’ve got two already. Do you know if they’re going to have more than two?”