“He doesn’t,” interposed Wright soothingly. “He’s just talking, aren’t you, Rob?”
“Am I? Just as you say. All right, then, Prentiss, I’m just talking. It’s a habit I have.”
“You talk too much,” growled Prentiss wrathfully. “You’re a sore-head, that’s what you are. You’re always trying to make trouble for Hop and me. Just because you tried for the team last year and didn’t make it you do nothing but knock. You make me tired.”
“That’s all right. You’re not the only one that’s tired. You’ll find that there are a whole lot of others who are tired, too. Tired of giving their money to a football team that never makes good from one year to the next, tired of having you and Hopkins run the whole thing yourselves. Oh, you’re not the only tired one, Prentiss!”
“I suppose you think you ought to manage it?”
“Well, I’m naturally modest,” drawled Rob, “but I have had suspicions that way.” Prentiss laughed derisively.
“You’d make a dandy manager, you would. Maybe you’d like to be captain, too?”
“Not of that team, thanks.”
“Is that so? Why, you don’t know the first thing about football, Lanky; you’re a joke!” And Prentiss disappeared laughing hugely.