“General, you did. Since then I have learned the truth. You went and made yourself one of these here football heroes, you did, General. Broke through—no, crashed through the enemy line and fell on the fumbled ball, thus bringing victory to your beloved Alma Mater! Not once, but twice did you do this thing. I know all, and lying won’t help you any longer. Confess, drat your pesky hide! Did you or isn’t they?”
“They is!” groaned Leonard. “For the love of Mike, Slim, get off my supper!”
Slim removed himself, and Leonard struggled out of the clutches of the chair and got to his feet. “For two cents,” he said, “I’d lay you over that blamed chair and paddle you, Slim.”
“No, you wouldn’t, son. You know very well that you deserved all you got, and a little bit more. You deceived me, me your friend! You—”
“Oh, dry up,” laughed Leonard. “What did you expect me to do? Tell you how good I was? Those second team fellows that played against me were dead easy, Slim. A child could have got through those chaps. Why, you could yourself, Slim! Well, I won’t go that far, but—”
“I pay no heed to your insults, you gallery-player!”
“Shut up! There wasn’t any gallery to-day. It was too cold.”
“Gallery enough. Fellows at table spent about half the time talking about you and your stunts. And I had to make believe I knew all about it and keep nosing around for clews. Not for worlds would I have confessed that I knew naught of which they spake. Fancy my position! Me who raised you from a cradle! Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?”
“Awfully,” said Leonard. “Now will you dry up and let me get this Latin?”
“I will not. Say, General, I wish you’d set to work and get Renneker’s job away from him.”