“Say, Boland, you’ve got to come out for football, you know,” announced Sandy. “We need every fellow we can get this year. Think you can play?”
“I cal’late I can try,” answered John modestly.
“Wow!” exclaimed Spud. “‘Cal’late,’ fellows!”
“You’ve got it,” said Sandy approvingly.
“Right-o, Spud!” cried Ned.
“Only ‘cal’late’s’ too long. Make it ‘Cal’ for short,” suggested The Fungus.
“Got you, kid,” Spud agreed. “Make you acquainted, fellows, with my very dear friend Mr. Cal Boland.”
“Speech! Speech!” cried the others. John looked about him perplexedly.
“Huh?” he asked finally.