h they had eaten was
beginning to work upon them a spell of dormancy. It was awfully jolly,
thought Neil Fletcher, to just lie there and watch the flames
and--and--He sighed comfortably and closed his eyes. At eight o'clock
he, with the rest of the victorious team, was to be drawn about the town
in a barge and cheered at, but meanwhile there was time to just close
his eyes--and forget--everything--
There was a knock at the study door.
"Go 'way!" grunted Neil.
"Oh, come in," called Paul Gale, without, however, removing his drowsy
gaze from the ceiling or changing his position.
"I beg your pardon. I am looking for Mr. Gale, and--"
Paul dropped his legs over the side of the couch and sat up, blinking at
the visitor. Neil followed his example. The caller was a carefully
dressed man of about thirty-five, scarcely taller than Neil, but broader
of shoulder. Paul recognized him, and, rising, shook hands.
"How do you do, Mr. Brill? Glad to see you. Sit down, won't you? I guess
we were both pretty nigh asleep when you knocked."
"Small wonder," responded the visitor affably. "After the work you did
this afternoon you deserve sleep, and anything else you want." He laid
aside his coat and hat and sank into the chair which Paul proffered.
"By the way," continued the latter, "I don't think you've met my friend,
Neil Fletcher. Neil, this is Mr. Brill, of Robinson; one of their
coaches." The two shook hands.
"I'm delighted to meet the hero--I should say one of the heroes--of the
day," said Mr. Brill. "That run was splendid; the way in which you two
fellows got your speed up before you reached the line was worth coming
over here to see, really it was."
"Yes, Paul set a pretty good pace," answered Neil.
The visitor discussed the day's contest for a few minutes, during which
Neil glanced uneasily from time to time at the clock, wondered what the
visitor wanted there, and heartily wished he'd take himself off. But
presently Mr. Brill got down to business.
"You know we've had a little victory in football ourselves this fall,"
he was saying. "We won from Erskine by 17 to 6 last week, and we're
feeling rather stuck up over it."
"Wait till next year," said Neil to himself, "and you'll get over it."
"And that," continued the coach, "brings me to the object of my call
tonight. Frankly, we want you two fellows at Robinson College, and I'm
here to see if we can't have you." He paused and smiled engagingly at
the boys.
|