“Yes, but I can’t skate well enough.”
“Well, get plenty of outdoor exercise of some sort this winter; don’t let the weather keep you indoors.”
“All right, I’ll remember.” Allan’s gaze wandered toward the locker building. Half-way across the field a big figure was ambling toward the gate, hands in pockets. Allan turned quickly to the trainer. “Do you know who that fellow is?” Kernahan’s gaze followed his. After a moment:
“That’s a freshman named Burley. Know him?”
“No; I just wondered who he was,” Allan replied.
“And I don’t want to know him,” he muttered, irritably, as he trotted off to the locker house.
But Fate seldom consults our inclinations.