I guess that's been the worst trouble
with me here--thinking about myself. And that was what was troubling me
when I went to you this afternoon. But it isn't any longer. I feel bad
about Westby. I can't help thinking I did rob him of his race--and then I
sat on him at supper into the bargain."

Barclay shouted with laughter. "You sat on Westby--and you're sorry for
it! What's happened to you, anyway? Tell me about it."

Irving narrated the circumstances. "And I want to be friendly with him,"
he concluded. "Don't you think I might explain that it was a blunder on
my part--and that I'm sorry I blundered?"

"I wouldn't," said Barclay. "He's beginning to respect you now. Don't do
anything to make him think you're a little soft. That's what he wants to
think, and he'd construe any such move on your part unfavorably."

"Well, perhaps so." Irving sighed.

"You're stiffening up quite a lot," observed Barclay.

"I was very wobbly when Westby and the other fellows went for me after
that race," confessed Irving. "If I stiffened up, I guess it was just
the courage of desperation. And I don't think that amounts to much. But
I've cheered up for good now."

"How's that?"

Somewhat shyly Irving communicated the proud news about his brother.

"Oh, I read about him in to-day's Boston newspaper," exclaimed Barclay.

"What?" asked Irving. "Where was it? I didn't see it."

"You probably don't read all the football news, as I do. But you will
after this." Barclay laughed. "Yes, there was quite an account of that
game, and Upton was mentioned as being the bright particular star on the
Freshman team. It never occurred to me that he was your brother."

"Naturally not. I wish I could get away to see the game with the Yale
Freshmen; I've never seen Lawrence play. But I don't suppose I could
manage that, could I?"

Barclay looked doubtful. "The rector's pretty strict with the masters as
well as with the boys. Especially when a man has charge of a dormitory.
I somehow think it wouldn't be wise to try it,--your first term."

"I suppose not. Well, I shall certainly read the football columns from
now on."

"I wonder," remarked Barclay, "if we couldn't get the Harvard Freshmen
up here to play a practice game with our School eleven--say, the week
before the St. John's game? It would be good practice for them as well
as for us; three or four years ago the Freshmen played here."

"Oh, I wish we could." Irving's face lighted up. "I'll wri