“Yes, I guess Thompson’s a pretty square sort of chap. He and Gerald are quite thick this year.”
The runners trotted out of sight around a bend of the road and the three boys perched themselves on the top rail of the fence and, with the others, waited for the runners to return. Cross-country running was something new at Yardley. The sport had been growing in popularity among the colleges and from them was spreading to the preparatory schools. Broadwood, Yardley’s chief rival, had sent a challenge in September and it had been accepted. Since then the school had been quite mad on the subject of cross-country running, and Andy Ryan, in the interims of his work with the football players, had been busy training candidates for a cross-country team to meet Broadwood. The dual meet was to take place on the morning of November 21st, on the afternoon of which day Yardley and Broadwood would clash in the final football game at Broadwood, some four miles distant. Each team was to consist of ten runners, and to-day’s try-out was to enable the trainer to select a dozen of the numerous candidates, two of them to be substitutes. The newly formed team was to elect a captain that evening.
Cross-country running, however, didn’t long engage the attention of the three on the fence. The conversation soon turned to football, which, since they were all players, was only natural. They discussed that afternoon’s game with St. John’s Academy, which, although of minor importance and not difficult, was the last of the preliminary contests and would settle the fate of more than one player.
“Don’t forget, fellows, that I want to stop and see Payson on the way back,” said Alf. “He thinks we ought to play two twenty-minute halves, but I think a twenty and a fifteen would be better. It will be fairly warm this afternoon. What do you say?”
“I don’t care,” answered Tom indifferently. “Let’s play what they want to play.”
“It isn’t up to them,” said Alf. “We fix the length of halves. It’s all well enough for you, Tom; you’re a regular ox for work; but some of the new chaps will feel the pace, I guess.”
“How long will the halves be next week with Carrel’s?” asked Dan.
“Twenty, I suppose. We don’t usually play twenty-fives until the Brewer game.”
“Then thirty-five minutes altogether ought to be enough for to-day, I would say. Although I don’t care as far as I’m concerned.”