"If he can play good football," answered Roy, "I'm glad to know it. I've always wondered what Walton was for."
Tom laughed. "Oh, he isn't so bad, I guess. His manner's against him."
"I've noticed it," said Roy drily. "Also his looks and his remarks and a number of other things. Larry Jones says he comes from the best sort of family."
"A fellow's family doesn't prove anything, I guess."
"Evidently not. There's the whistle. Let's go back." Presently Roy added, as they headed for Torrence: "I can quite understand why Walton's family sent him to school."
"Why they sent him to school?" repeated Tom questioningly.
"Yes, it was to get rid of him."
"You've certainly got your little hammer with you," said Tom, with a smile. "What's Harry done to you?"
"Not a thing. I wouldn't advise him to, either. I just don't like him, Tom. Can't stand being in the same room with him. Well, see you later, old chap. And, say, think over what I said about—you know."
"Oh, that's all right," replied Tom, with a shrug of his broad shoulders. "Fellows can think what they like about me. I don't blame them. But you can't expect me to like it!"