“How far behind?” asked Roy. “Back of the fence?” Harry made a face at him.
“I wouldn’t think of playing if you bar Harry out,” said Dick gravely. “Harry rescued me from a life of idleness at Hammond, and brought me over here where I’m buzzing my brain out trying to keep up with my class, and I’m naturally awfully grateful to her. If you don’t let her play you can’t have my invaluable services, Chub.”
“Look here, how about foot-ball?” demanded Roy.
“Me?” asked Dick. “I don’t know the first thing about it. The only game I can play is chess.”
“But you ought to do something with those muscles of yours,” insisted Roy. “Did you ever do any rowing?”
“Never even saw a race,” was the cheerful reply. “Oh, I’m no athlete, me. The only thing I can do is ride and fish and shoot and throw a rope and—and run a little.”
“Run?”
“Yes, on my feet, you know. Don’t you ever run hereabout?”
“Yes,” laughed Chub, “we run bases.”