“Gracious sakes, I’ve been trying to forget school,” interrupted the tall boy.
“I can’t,” said Dave, solemnly. “Every once in a while it persists in bobbing up in my mind with fearful force.”
“Poor chap—but what’s the use of it now?”
“Well, isn’t the crowd going to enter the Wentworth Preparatory School next fall?”
“Of course.”
“And that means more hard study—athletics, perhaps, and——”
“Athletics! That’s so!” broke in Tom, his expression undergoing a wonderful change. “If I don’t become a candidate for a freshman team Larry isn’t a tenderfoot.”
“My foot isn’t very tender when it comes to kicking a pigskin,” laughed Larry. “By the way, fellows, I haven’t thought much about it, but I’d like to enter that school myself.”
“Bully idea! Why don’t you?” asked Sam Randall.
“Well, the fact is, my people aren’t very well fixed.”