“Oh!” exclaimed Cal. “You’re the Emerson who has the store on West street! Of course! I missed that. Yes, you must know something about baseball togs. Football togs, too, eh? Well, tell us, then, which outfit costs the most, Emerson.”
“Football,” answered Russell, smiling. “There’s more wool. Football togs have to be better because they get harder use.”
“There you are!” exclaimed Cal, in triumph. Russell noted that Coolidge and Greenwood were observing him with new interest.
“I still maintain,” said Jimmy, with great dignity, “that one of the suits you fellows wear costs more than my football outfit. I got my jersey for nothing, from a chap who was leaving school—”
“It looks it,” breathed Coolidge.
“That’s not the point,” said Cal. “Every one knows you’re such a miser you wouldn’t buy anything. We were discussing new uniforms, and Emerson says himself—”
“Say, Emerson, what’s a hockey shirt w-w-worth?” asked Bob Coolidge.
“I can’t say. We haven’t stocked any yet. I’ll find out for you, though, if you want me to.”
Coolidge shook his head. “Thanks, no, it doesn’t matter. I just wondered.”
“Bet you Rus can sell you shirts and whole outfits, too, for that matter, less than you paid for them last year,” announced Jimmy. “You fellows always get stuck when you send to New York.”