Читать книгу Fourth Down! онлайн

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He had returned this fall with a grim determination to be rid of the boy at any cost short of murder, but to-day, glancing uneasily about as he passed from one recitation to another, he was not so sure of himself. Probably, he reflected discouragedly, when Tommy appeared and got those big blue eyes on him he wouldn’t find it in his heart to be unkind to the youngster, and the whole wretched, tiresome program would begin all over again. Therefore when, hurrying from his last morning recitation at twelve, he almost bumped into Tommy on the steps of Oxford, he was at once amazed and relieved when that youth said, “Hello, Toby,” in a most embarrassed voice and sidled past. At the foot of the steps Toby stopped and looked back. Could that be Tommy? Of course it was, but it was a very different Tommy. He had shot up during the summer like a weed. His clothes looked too small for him, too short of leg and sleeve. He was thinner of body and face, the pink-and-white complexion had muddied, the blue eyes were no longer luminous with truth and innocence and the voice had dropped several notes to a ridiculous bass! In short, Tommy had changed very suddenly from a blue-eyed cherub to a commonplace and awkward boy. And Toby was very, very glad, so glad that he went the rest of the way to Whitson whistling at the top of his voice; or should I say at the top of his whistle?