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“I don’t see any use in my spending good money to see movies,” demurred Toby, sitting up sleepily, “when all I’ve got to do is go to sleep and have movies of my own!”

Arnold grinned. “How did practice go?” he asked significantly.

“Fine.” Toby was quite cheerful and nonchalant. “Made me sleepy, though, I guess.”

“Hope you’re not tired or lame or anything like that? You had such a lot of fun ragging me yesterday, you know. Too bad if you—er——”

“Me? Oh, well, it was pretty warm, of course, but when you’re in good hard condition——”

“What’s the matter?” asked Arnold, grinning.

“Matter? Why?”

“I thought you made a face when you stood up. My mistake, of course!”

“I don’t know what you’re getting at,” declared Toby with great dignity. “If you think that a little football practice—ouch! Gee!” He sat down again on the window seat and rubbed his back ruefully, while the others laughed with wicked glee.

“It won’t do, old thing! There’s no use stalling. You’re as bad as I was yesterday, when you had the beautiful cheek to sit there and read me a lecture on not keeping fit! Where does it hurt worst?”