“That’s what we used to say,” laughed the man. “And then when next year came—why, we said it again! Do you know, I’d give a whole lot to see Ferry Hill beat Hammond? I really would, Miss Harriet! I feel the old antagonism rising up inside of me at the mention of the name of Hammond. The fellows there now aren’t the ones I used to know, of course; ‘Tricky’ Peters and Jerry Gould and—and what was that big red-headed fellow’s name, I wonder! Prout! That was it; Prout! Dear me, how I used to hate that fellow Prout! I wonder what became of him. Jerry Gould has an office in my building and we’ve often talked over old times. He declares he made a home-run off of me once, but I don’t believe it, by Jingo! What time does this athletic contest take place?”
“At half past two, sir.”
“Just the thing! I’ll go and see it. Will you take me, Miss Harriet? Good! And—and didn’t you say that this Dick Somebody got up the team?”
“Dick Somes; yes, sir.”
“And he’s the same one that’s president of the Improvement Society?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Very well, then. You see him and tell him that if he will lick Hammond this afternoon I’ll subscribe to the dormitory fund, handsomely too! What do you say?”
“I’ll tell him,” answered Harry breathlessly. “But—but I don’t believe it will make any difference, because he’ll do the best he can anyhow; and so will the other boys. But I’ll tell him, sir. How much shall I say you’ll subscribe?”
“Well, now you’re getting right down to brass tacks, aren’t you?” laughed the man. “I must think about that. Is this the Cottage? I’ll have to beg some lunch, I guess. Do you suppose your mother will let me have some?”
“Of course,” answered Harry eagerly. “I’ll invite you myself.”