“Slow, I’m afraid. Anyway, you could easily tell Babe Ruth and me apart!”
“I guess you’re doing better than you let on,” said Hop. “If you’re as good at baseball as your brother is at football, you’ll do.”
“I guess I am,” laughed Laurie; “just about!”
“Well, Nid is surely coming fast,” replied Hop, gravely. “He’s been doing some nice work the last few days.”
Laurie stared. “Say, what are you doing, Hop? Stringing me?” he demanded.
“Stringing you?” Hop looked puzzled. “Why, no. How do you mean?”
“About Ned. Do you mean that he’s really playing football?”
“Why, of course I do. Didn’t you know it?”
Laurie shook his head. “He’s been telling me a lot of stuff, but I thought he was just talking, the way I’ve been, to sort of keep his courage up.”
“Nonsense! Nid’s doing mighty well. I don’t know how much experience he’s had; some ways he acts sort of green; but he’s got Mason worried, I guess. If he had another fifteen pounds he’d make the team sure. As it is, I wouldn’t be surprised to see him play a whole lot this fall. You see, he’s a pretty good punter, Nod, and yesterday he blossomed out as a drop-kicker, too. Landed the ball over from about the thirty yards and from a hard angle. Mason doesn’t do any kicking, and it’s no bad thing to have a fellow in the back field who can help Pope out in a pinch. It’s his kicking ability that’ll get him on if anything does.”