“Tad Mudge!”
The boys turned. Captain Doyle was coming toward them, followed by the coach and Guy Watson. “Wait a minute, Tad,” said Doyle.
“Want me to take your place to-day, Terry?” asked Tad.
“Not to-day, Tad.” The football captain was a tall well built boy of eighteen with coppery-red hair, gray eyes and a pleasant and unmistakably Irish countenance. “Introduce your friend, Tad,” he added, with a glance at Rodney.
“This is Merrill, First Form. Rod, shake hands with Captain Doyle.”
“Glad to know you,” said the captain. Then, turning to Coach Cotting, who had joined them, “It’s Merrill, all right, Coach.”
Cotting smiled. “Thought I wasn’t mistaken,” he said, studying Rodney with frank interest. “Shake hands, boy. Your brother and I were pretty good friends.”
Rodney flushed. “Yes, sir. I—I’ve heard him speak of you.”