“I don’t. You’ll make a bully captain, Dan. Everyone likes you, you’re a dandy player and you know how to boss folks. Do you suppose Muscles will let me play next year?”
“Oh, I guess so.”
“He ought to. I’ll be sixteen then, and in the second class. Do you think I’d stand any show of making it, Dan?”
“You go to sleep. Sufficient unto the day is the football thereof. Good night, Gerald. I’m dead tired.”
“Good night,” answered Gerald. After a pause he added: “You don’t have to be very heavy to play quarter, do you?”
“Not very, I guess. Thinking of quarter?”
“Yes. I’ve—I’ve been sort of watching Alf and I think I could play quarter, Dan.”
“What?” asked Dan drowsily. “Oh, well, cut out the conversation, Gerald, and take a fall out of Morpheus. Gee, but this old bed feels good!”
Two days later, on Monday the twenty-third, Cambridge and Oxford held their elections and Gerald went through with flying colors and became a member of Cambridge, with the right to wear the Light Blue in the shape of button or hat ribbon. Hiltz accepted what couldn’t be helped with apparent good grace. He and Gerald always managed to be looking the other way when they met and they had not spoken since the cross-country meet. Hiltz also avoided Dan, since he had not forgiven the latter for beating him at election, but they nodded or spoke when they met. Arthur, too, was in Hiltz’s bad books, for Arthur had never made any secret of his assistance to Dan. But neither Dan nor Arthur nor Gerald was troubled about it.