“Ah,” replied Jimmy, “you weren’t at the game, then. I see. If you had been you wouldn’t have asked that question, Emerson. Yes, sir, my poor dead hopes. You see, I had an idea that I could become a punter. I toiled and moiled— Say, what is that? Anyway, I did it, and to-day Johnny let me in in the last quarter and I tried twice to punt the ball and each time I—well, the thing almost hit me on the head when it came down!”
“Dropped the ball too late, probably,” offered Russell. “I guess it takes a lot of practice, punting. You’ll probably bring it off all right the next time. By the way, what do you think of that ball you bought here?”
“That’s what I dropped in about,” said Jimmy, brightening again. “Came over for a few eats”—he glanced unenthusiastically at the parcel—“and thought I’d drop in and tell you about that there ball, Emerson. It’s a corker! It’s a dream! It—it’s all right! Say, honest, if I’d had that ball in the game I’d have poked it fifty yards, Emerson. Honest, I would! I like it mighty well, and I’ve talked it up a lot. Showed it to Mart Proctor the other day; and Johnny Cade, too. I wouldn’t be surprised if you sold quite a few of them this fall. Well, how are things going with you? Been busy to-day?”
“Fairly,” answered Russell. Then, encountering Jimmy’s straight and level gaze, he shrugged. “I guess there’s no use lying, Austen,” he corrected. “Business has been rotten this afternoon, and every other afternoon.”
“Thought so,” said Jimmy. His eyes roamed over the poorly lighted store and came back to Russell. “I guessed the other day that a lot of this was just bluff.” He nodded backward at the shelves. Russell flushed slightly. “Not that it isn’t all right,” added Jimmy quickly. “Bluff’s a part of every game nowadays, I guess. And I like your nerve. So business isn’t rushing, eh?”
“It isn’t even crawling,” responded Russell wryly. “At least, it isn’t crawling this way.”
“I wonder,” mused Jimmy, “if you didn’t make a mistake in locating over this way instead of further down town. You’d ought to get the trade from the town folks, Emerson; high school and grammar school fellows, you know, and that crowd. I’m afraid there isn’t enough business among the Academy fellows to make it go. What do you think?”
“Well, I wanted the Academy trade first,” said Russell. “I can get the other trade, I believe, if I can wait long enough. But the question is, can I wait? I—we’ve advertised in the High School paper, and we’re running a small ad. in the town paper three times a week. They gave us a pretty good reading notice last Saturday. Something ought to come of those ads.”
“Sure to,” agreed Jimmy comfortingly. “Later on, now, when fellows start baseball, you’d ought to do better, too. Fellows buy baseball stuff more than they do football. Take the dormitory teams, for instance. They’ll be starting up this week, I guess. Well, most every fellow will have a shirt and a sweater and a pair of breeches, and that’s about all they’ll need. Maybe they’ll be along to buy a nose-guard or a pair of stockings, and that’s their limit. They get an old football from the first team, one that’s been through ten wars, and that fixes them. Baseball, though, is different. Every chap wants to own a ball and a bat and, maybe, a glove—”