“Put more ginger into it, Mr. Kingsford,” commanded the latter. “You’re not half trying. That’s better!” Evan’s elbow and hip crashed against the floor and the foot-ball bounded out of his reach. The audience howled approval.
“Now try a dive, Mr. Kingsford. Stand off there about six feet and let us see what you can do with a moving ball.”
But Evan was feeling pretty sore and lame by this time, and he rebelled.
“I guess I’ve done enough,” he said good-humoredly. “This floor isn’t quite as soft as the turf.”
“Enough,” said Prentiss, “why, we can never see enough of such clever work, Mr. Kingsford!”
“Well, I’ve had enough, if you haven’t,” replied Evan doggedly.
“You’ll do as we tell you,” said Hopkins. “We’re managing this show. Now you get over there and—”
“I won’t, I tell you. I’m not going to break my bones for you. I’ve done as much as any of the others already, and I don’t intend to get all lamed up.”
“That’s right, Hop,” said Rob, and some of the others agreed. But Hopkins wasn’t ready to let go.