"Not bad. Hurts a bit, though. It's the inside of the fingers and the palm. It'll be all right in a few days, I guess. Doctor chap said I'd have to have it dressed every day for awhile."
"But, Great Scott, Don, what about football?"
"I've thought of that. Nothing doing for a week or so, I guess. Rotten luck, eh?"
"Beastly! And Robey was telling me only half an hour ago to hurry you up. Said you'd have to come right out if you wanted a place. Still, when he understands what the trouble is——"
"I'll see him tonight, I guess. Who's playing guard, Tim?"
"Joe Gafferty, left; Tom Hall, right. Walton and Pryme and Lawton are all after places. Walton's been doing good work too, I think."
"All the fellows back?"
"Every last one. Remember Howard, who played sub half-back for the second last year? He's showing great form. Still, you can't tell much yet. There's to be scrimmage tomorrow. We play Thacher Saturday, you know. Sort of quick work and I don't believe we'll be anywhere near ready for them."
"Thacher's easy. We beat them 26 to 3 last year."
"Twenty-three to three."