“You don’t think I’d ought to fess up?” asked Ned.
“I do not,” replied Laurie stoutly. “What’s the good? It wasn’t your fault if you went to sleep out in the country. If any one’s to blame, it’s me. I oughtn’t to have hoaxed them. No, sir; if Mulford or any one says anything, just you tell them you fell asleep and couldn’t help getting there late. But I don’t believe any one will ask questions now. They’re all too pleased and excited. But, gee, Neddie! I certainly am glad I made that goal instead of missing it. I’d be a pretty mean feeling pup to-night if I hadn’t!”
“It was wonderful,” mused Ned. “You putting it over, I mean. With all that crowd looking on, and Farview shouting—”
“Shouting? I didn’t hear them. I didn’t know whether there was any one around just then! I had troubles of my own, partner! Know something? Well, I think there’s the chap who kicked that goal.” Laurie raised his right foot and displayed one of Ned’s scuffed football shoes. “I guess I just sort of left things to him and he did the business. Good old Mister Shoe!”
Ned jumped to his feet and pulled Laurie from the bed. “For the love of lemons,” he cried, “get those togs off before any one comes in!”
“Gee, that’s so!” Laurie worked feverishly, while Ned stumbled over a chair and turned the key in the lock.
“A fine pair of idiots we are!” exclaimed Ned, as he ripped Laurie’s shirt off for him. “Suppose Hop or Kewpie had come in while we were sitting here!”
Hillman’s spent the rest of the evening in celebration. In the dining-hall the appearance of any member of the squad was the signal for hand-clapping and cheers, and when Ned entered, followed by Laurie, the applause was deafening. Ned showed himself to be a very modest and retiring hero, for he fairly scuttled to his seat, and kept his head bent over his plate long after the applause had died away. Then, stealing an unhappy glance at Laurie, he found that youth grinning broadly, and was the recipient of a most meaningful wink. After supper, in the corridor, the twins ran squarely into Hop Kendrick. Ned tried to pull aside, but Laurie stood his ground. Hop was plainly a very happy youth to-night, although even when happiest he never entirely lost his look of earnest gravity.
“Well, we did it, Nid!” he said joyfully, clapping that youth on the shoulder. “That was a corking kick of yours, son!”
Ned stammered something utterly unintelligible, but Laurie came to the rescue: “Ned says it was the way you pointed the ball that won that goal, Hop,” he said casually. “He’s mighty modest about it.”