"No, sir," said Jimsy. "Only that I've got to get something—quick!" He looked at Honor, listening star-eyed.
The great man smiled. "I see. Well, I think I can interest you. I've watched you play football, King. I played football, forty years ago. I like the breed. My boys are all girls, worse luck—though they're the finest in the world——"
"Oh, yes," said Honor, warmly.
"But I like boys. And I like you, Jimsy King." He held out his hand. "You come to me, and if you're the lad I think you are, you'll stay."
"Oh, I'll come!" Jimsy stammered, flushed and incoherent. "I'll come! I'll—I'll sweep out or scrub floors—or—or anything! But—I'm afraid you don't——" he looked unhappily at Honor.
"Yes, Jimsy. He's got to know."
Jimsy King stood up very straight and tall. "You've got to know that I was kicked out of college two months ago, for marching in a parade against——"
"For telling the truth," cried Honor, hot cheeked, "when a cowardly lie would have saved him!"
"But just the same, I was kicked out of college, and——"