“I’d like to try it,” said Gerald thoughtfully. “I believe I could run the mile rather well.”
“Gerald, you are certainly getting a good opinion of yourself,” said Dan dryly. “Have you considered pitching for the nine this year?”
“No, but I’ll bet I could learn to pitch,” answered Gerald untroubledly. “I know how to throw the out drop and the in drop now.”
“You might mention that to Durfee,” said Dan. “Meanwhile I’m going to my downy.” He arose and limped exaggeratedly toward the door. “Say, Alf, does the hockey management supply liniment? If it does I’d like to make arrangements for about six gallons to take me through the season. Come on, Gerald. If you think you’ll be too warm going back you might take your coat over your arm.”
“Dan, you’re peevish to-night,” said Alf. “You’ll feel better to-morrow after you’ve stopped a few hot ones with your head.”
“And after I’ve taken two more exams. How did you get on to-day, Gerald?”
“All right, I think,” replied Gerald cheerfully. “When does the track team begin work, Tom?”
“Never you mind about track work,” said Dan, hustling him out by the nape of his neck. “You come home and do some studying. Good night, fellows.”
“Good night, Mr. Grouch!”
At the outer door Dan turned to Gerald: “Now you run like the dickens all the way across. If you don’t I’ll rub your face with snow. And another time if I catch you parading around in this weather with nothing on——”