“I guess you’ll be looking on to-morrow,” said Jimmy, grinning.
“Oh, I don’t know. This thing will be a lot better by morning. I wouldn’t wonder if I was back on the job again, giving a few more pointers to you fellows.”
“Looks to me as if the old pointer was a bit out of commission,” Jimmy laughed. Then: “Say, Rus, I wish Johnny’d swipe you for our team. I don’t see why he doesn’t. You’re as good as that wild ass Crocker. Better, I believe. Or you would be if you were in fast company for a week or so.”
“Fast company!” groaned Russell. “Oh, my sainted aunt!”
“That’s all right, son. We may be going a little slow just now, but when we go back into high—watch our dust!”
“Watch you in the dust, you mean,” retorted Russell. “No, thanks, Jimmy, I get all the excitement that’s good for me now. And unless you fellows really take a brace in the next week it’s going to be a bigger thing to have been on this year’s second than on the first!”
“Something in that, too,” acknowledged Jimmy ruefully. “Say, what do you take it is the matter with us, anyway?”
Russell shrugged and frowned. “Blessed if I know,” he said. “You started out pretty well and went nicely until you struck Hillsport. That seemed to take all the starch out of you.”
“That’s right: we’re sort of rough-dried now. Maybe old Johnny can put the starch back into us, though. I’d hate to finish out here with a licking by Kenly. I wouldn’t mind if I had another year.”
“I suppose you’ll play in the Kenly game,” said Russell.