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“Never mind about me bouncing,” said Sid good-naturedly, with a grin. “I got around the ice a heap faster than some of the chaps at that. But about football, Toby——”

“I haven’t got time for it, Sid; that’s another thing. I’ve got to put my nose to the grindstone, I guess, this year.”

“Well, haven’t I? Rather! But football won’t cut in on studying—much. Anyway, a fellow studies better for being out-of-doors and getting plenty of exercise and——”

“Yes, but I can be outdoors without playing football, Sid.”

“Gee, you’re the original little Excuse-Me! Well so be it. After all, some one’s got to stay out of it and be audience, and from the looks of things right now, Toby, you’re the only fellow left to sit in the grandstand and cheer us on to victory. Look at the gang coming down! There’s a fellow I want to see. So long! Better change your mind, though!”

Arnold came back for a minute and then left in answer to the plaintive squawking of a horn from farther along the side of the field. Fully eighty youths of assorted ages and sizes gathered about the new coach and the hubbub was stilled as the small man in the blue knitted jacket began to speak. Toby could hear an occasional word, but not enough to make sense, and, since it was no concern of his, he turned toward the grandstand and climbed up into the grateful shade. Forty or fifty others had already scattered themselves about the seats in couples or groups, most of them munching peanuts or popcorn bars, ready to be amused if amusement required no exertion on their parts. A lazy way to spend a perfectly good afternoon, reflected Toby. He wished he hadn’t let Arnold persuade him to come, but, being here, he lacked energy for the hot uphill walk back to the dormitory. He would stay awhile, he told himself; at least until the afternoon had cooled a little.