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“You don’t mean Vose would want to see us beaten just because he dislikes Mr. Worden!”

“Hm; not exactly, perhaps. Still, I wouldn’t wager much on it! If he could get even with Worden I dare say he wouldn’t care a continental whether we won or lost at football!”

“He’s a dandy!” said Harry indignantly. “If that’s the way it is you can bet I’ll keep away from him. I’ll even run if necessary! But if ever I do run from him I’ll run back again when the football’s over! And then he will learn something!”

“Easy!” laughed Tracey. “Perry Vose is three inches taller than you are and three years older—almost.”

“He’s a bully, and I never saw a bully yet who wasn’t a coward at heart.”

“I wouldn’t count too much on that, Harry. He may be a bully, but you’ll find he’s no coward. And he’s a mean chap in a fight. Take my advice and let him alone.”

“I mean to—at present,” replied Harry. “I can’t afford to take any chances. I want to make the first before the season’s over. Think I will, Tracey?”

“Don’t see how you can help it. I’m not much of a football fan, but I hear what the fellows say, and they all seem to think that you are some wonder. Guess I’ll have to wander down to the field and see you in action some day.”