“Well, Kittson, I suppose you and I will get our walking papers to-morrow. For my part it’ll be rather a relief—” There he stopped, realizing that he had been about to say something very far from the truth. Instead he ended: “A relief to know.”
Kitty, engaged on a letter, looked up and blinked through his spectacles. “How do you mean, Merrill?” he asked.
“Why, Cotting’s going to make another cut to-morrow, they say.”
“Cut? You mean he’s going to let some of the football players go?”
“Yes, some of the second squad fellows. He’s got too many, you see.”
“Really? Think he will keep you, don’t you?”
“I don’t believe so. I don’t see why he should. He’s got five perfectly good backs without me.”
“Oh, I hope he will,” said Kitty earnestly. “I—I’d feel a bit lonesome if you weren’t there, you know.”
Rodney stared. Then he laughed. “Well, you seem pretty sure of your place, Kittson! It might just be that we’d both get fired.”