“I guess you fellows have heard all of my yarns,” he answered.
“No, sir, I haven’t!”
“Nor I, sir!”
“I’d like to hear them all over,” added a third.
“Well, I won’t inflict that calamity on you,” laughed the instructor. “But let me see. What sort of a story do you want?”
“A funny one, sir.”
“Tell us about the time you went to New Haven as sub and got in in the last half and won the game.”
“Come now, Strafford, I never did that! You’ve let your imagination run away with you. I’ll not tell you anything more except fairy stories if you twist things around that way.”
“Mr. Ames,” answered the boy earnestly, “you did win that game, sir. I heard a man at home telling all about it last summer. He said Harvard was going all to pieces when you went in at quarter and that you just shook the men right together and just made them score that time. He said if it hadn’t been for you the game would have ended nothing to nothing.”
“Oh, I guess he was just having fun with you,” said Mr. Ames somewhat embarrassedly. “I don’t remember anything like that.”