“Well, how do you feel?” said Swinstead.
“Oh, all right,” replied Dick, showing unmistakeable signs of intoxication.
“Capital run you made,” said the other. “Middling,” said Dick, deprecatingly. “I hadn’t my shoes, that makes a difference.”
“It does,” said the two elders.
“Rather a nice turf track you’ve got,” said the boy presently, by way of filling up an awkward gap.
“Glad you like it. Some of the fellows growl at it; but we’ll tell them you think it good.”
It was rather an anxious moment to see how the fish would take it. But he swallowed it, hook and all.
“We used to run a good deal at our old school, you know,” said he. “Some of us, that is.”
“Ah, you’re just the man we want for the Harriers. They’re badly off for a whipper-in; and we had to stop hunting all last term because we hadn’t got one.”
“Oh!” said Dick.