"Too straggly, 'Boots.' Try again. Either Cupples or Thayer, I guess it will have to be. Sorry, you know."
"Oh, yes, you're plumb broken-hearted, aren't you?" asked "Boots" with bitter sarcasm. As a relief to his feelings, he shouted pungent criticism at Quarter-back Hinton. "Well," he said finally, "which do you want and when do you want him?"
"I guess we'll take Thayer," was the answer, "Tell him to report tomorrow, will you? Much obliged, old man."
"You're not welcome, confound you! Now get out of here! And tell George this is the last player he gets from me this Fall!"
Detweiler departed, grinning, and "Boots" returned, grumbling, to his charges and was so cross-grained for the rest of the practice that the team wondered. Later, in the gymnasium, "Boots" approached Clint.
"Thayer, they want you on the 'varsity," he announced shortly. "Report to Coach Robey tomorrow. And for goodness' sake show them that we know football over here. You'll do well enough to hold your job over there, I guess, if you'll just remember a few of the things I've tried to hammer into you. If you don't you'll be dumped back on my hands again, and I don't want you. I warn you right now that if you come back to me this season you'll go on the bench. I won't have any castaways from the 'varsity working for me!"
"Yes, sir; thank you, Mr. Boutelle. I'll try my best, sir."
Mr. Boutelle's frowns diminished. "Well, that's all you can do, Thayer. I'm sorry to lose you, and that's a fact. And I hope you'll make good." Then he scowled again. "It means learning a new set of signals, confound them!"
He went off, still grumbling, leaving Clint, attired principally in a towel, a prey to very varied emotions.