“Feller?” asked Jimmy helpfully.
“Bounder!”
“Oh! Thank you kindly. And such is gratitude! Never mind, son, all you need is food. Let’s get to it.”
“I don’t think—that is, I’m not very hungry——”
“Not hungry! You’re not sick, are you?” Dud shook his head. “Then what’s wrong with you?”
“Well, if you must know,” replied the other desperately, “I—I don’t want to go over there and see the fellows grinning at me.”
“Grinning at you? What would they be doing—— Say, for the love of lemons, Dud, get that idea out of your bean! Why, no one’s grinning at you, you three-ply chump! Why should they? Didn’t you go in there and save our bacon for us? Didn’t you work three innings like a regular ‘Matty’? Sure, you did! Then what——”
“And I went to pieces, too, and filled the bases that time,” said Dud bitterly. “Even if they don’t grin I shall know they want to!”
“Piffle! Honest, Dud, I didn’t know you were such a chump. Look here, you’ve been wondering again! Don’t tell me! I can see it. You’ve got your ‘I-wonder’ expression on! You stop thinking about Dud Baker and wash your dirty face and hands and come to eats. I’ll guarantee that you won’t get grinned at once, old man. If I see any fellow trying it I’ll punch his head!”
After all, Dud only wanted to be reassured and had no real intention of missing his supper, for he was undeniably hungry. And so, presently, they were off to dining-hall together, and things were just as Jimmy had predicted. There were no grins, save an occasional friendly one, and no one paid much more attention to Dud than usual. They slipped into their places at table—neither had been called to the training table yet, since accommodations at that board were very limited—and Jimmy, in high spirits, bandied remarks with the others between mouthfuls, and Dud tried hard to forget anything that had happened since luncheon.