“What did Fallow say? Was he ugly?”
Whereupon, while the first and second teams battered each other up and down the field, Hugh recounted the whole adventure for his friend’s benefit, and Bert, alternately amused and alarmed, listened with flattering attention. At the end he said, after a long breath of relief: “Hugh, you’re a corker! And a wonder! I couldn’t have got away with it like that to save my life! And I’m awfully much obliged, old man. I—I hope I’ll be able to do as much for you some time.”
“It wasn’t anything,” returned Hugh. “In fact, it was rather good fun; or it would have been if I hadn’t known all the time that I was getting in wrong with Mr. Crowley. Mr. Fallow was quite amusing. I say, Bert, have you seen his mustache? It—it’s perfectly weird. I was so fascinated by it that I just had to stand there and stare!”
“I don’t remember,” murmured Bert. Then, after a moment: “Look here, though, if that money doesn’t come from your folks we’ll be in a mess, won’t we? I don’t honestly believe I’ll be able to scrape it all up before Christmas. I’ve got about four dollars and, of course, I’ll have ten more the first of the month, but——”
“Oh, that money will come today or tomorrow,” comforted Hugh. “Then I’ll settle up with Mr. Crump and Wallace Cathcart.”
“But I’ll be owing it to you then,” said Bert in troubled voice. “I guess it was pretty cheeky to go to you for it, anyway, but I was so worried about that man Fallow that I didn’t know what to do. If he’d got to faculty I’d been fired like a shot.”
“You needn’t worry about owing it to me,” said Hugh with a shrug. “I don’t need it. Anyhow, it’s the mater’s and she won’t mind if she never gets it. How’s the rib?”
“All right, I suppose. Davy says I can’t get back before next week, though. Last year he fixed Musgrave’s broken collar bone up for him so he was playing inside of ten days. I don’t see why he needs to be so plaguy fussy about an old rib.”
“My word, you didn’t expect to get back today, did you?”