“I mean, Rugby or the other?”
“Rugby!” exclaimed Proudtree, scornfully. “I guess not! We play regular football. Nobody plays Rugby around these parts. Are you fellows going out?”
“Not just yet,” replied Ned.
“He means are we going to try for the football team,” explained Laurie. “Yes, we are, Proudtree; at least, one of us is.”
“You?”
“We haven’t decided yet. You see, we’ve never played your kind of football. Back home, at high school, we played American Rugby, and it’s quite different. But we decided that one of us had better go in for football and the other for baseball, if only to do our duty by the school.”
Proudtree looked puzzled. “How are you going to decide?” he asked.
“Oh, we’ll toss up or draw lots or something, I suppose. Maybe, though, Ned had better play football, because I know more baseball than he does. Still, I’m not particular.”
“That’s the limit!” chuckled the visitor. “Say, what are your names? I didn’t see any cards on the door.”
“Turner. His is Laurie and mine’s Ned,” answered the latter. “Do we put our names on the door?”