"Indeed I do," he responded. "She could throw a ball overhand just like a boy," Allen continued, turning to Mrs. Gorham lest he seem to discriminate in his attentions.
"She can't do it now, but I can," Patricia remarked, with an air of superiority, subsiding as Alice glanced meaningly at her.
"And once you thrashed Jim Thatcher for calling me a tomboy. Oh, I looked upon you as a real story-book hero!"
"I suspect that's the only time on record." Allen laughed again consciously. "That's one epithet I haven't had hurled at me enough times to make me nervous." He looked at the horses critically. "You don't suppose there's any chance of a runaway here to give me another opportunity, do you?"
"How about the football games, and the races at New London?" Alice asked.
"What do you know about those?"
"I read all about everything in the papers. Your father was so proud that he told my father and every one about your college record; so, you see, your friends had no difficulty in keeping posted."
"My father was proud of me?" Allen demanded, in genuine astonishment. "Haven't you gotten things a little mixed? That doesn't sound like the pater at all. He didn't boast any of my record in my studies, did he?"
"Father didn't say." Alice leaned forward mischievously. "Did you get your degree cum laude, Allen?"
"Not exactly," he answered, frankly. "Cum difficultate would be more like it; but I got it, anyhow."