“Never be it said that I deserted you in your hour of need, Rob,” Evan declared. “I will starve with you.”
“Look here, though, you two,” said Pierce. “No crackers and jam and stuff in your room afterwards.”
“We haven’t any,” laughed Evan. “The only thing we might eat is some of Rob’s nails and screws and such. No, this is straight, isn’t it, Rob?”
“Absolutely! If Hop’s team wins from Mountfort this afternoon Evan and I go supperless.”
“Well, I call that a sporting proposition,” said Peterson admiringly. “Much as I’d hate to have you go without supper, Rob, I must say I’d like our team to win.”
“It hasn’t a show to win,” said Rob confidently. “Why, my dear, misguided friend, our team hasn’t shown a single flash of football yet.”
“Well, we’ll see later,” responded Peterson, pushing back his chair. “That’s right, Jelly, eat all you can now, for you’re not likely to get anything more to-day.”
“Me?” sputtered Jelly. “I tell you I’m not in that bargain! I refuse to have anything to do with it! I don’t have to, do I, Rob?”
“No, you may eat as much as usual, Jelly, no matter what may be the fortunes of war. And just think, Jelly! If Evan and I do lose you’ll have two other suppers to eat!”