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d.i.c.k laughed. "Grace was born without a sense of humor, Gordie, and I find I can't educate her."
"Sense of humor!" scoffed Grace. "That story isn't the least bit funny.
I'll leave it to Gordon." She jumped up. "I must finish those dishes."
"What's the story?" asked Gordon, seating himself well away from the dripping vines.
"The story? Oh, never mind that! Jack's just been here."
"He has? Well-what-how did he take it?" asked Gordon anxiously.
d.i.c.k gravely regarded the point of one shoe. "Well, I'll tell you the last thing he said as he went off, Gordie. He said: 'Tell Gordon I know a fellow named Sh.o.r.es who works in the plating factory. He's a pretty good ball player. If you like, I'll talk to him and see if he will play for us Sat.u.r.day.'"
Gordon viewed his friend with admiration, and shook his head helplessly.
"I don't see how you manage folks the way you do, d.i.c.k," he said.
"That comes of being manager," laughed d.i.c.k.
"If I'd told Jack he was suspended for a week he'd have sa.s.sed me and gone off in a huff and never played again!"
"Oh, no, he wouldn't! Jack's a good, sensible chap. He's a little bit stuck on himself, but that doesn't matter, and he will get over it some time. I just told him that he was wrong, and made him see it. And I convinced him without much trouble that it was for the good of the team that he should sit on the bench for a week. Of course, he was a bit huffed at first, but he got over that. In fact, Gordie, I think he's rather proud of being suspended. It sounds sort of professional and big-leaguish!"
"You could convince a fellow it was a real pleasure to have his head cut off!" said Gordon. "I wish I had your-your diplomacy."
"That's a big word for it, Gordie. Last night's meeting was rather a fizzle, wasn't it?"
Gordon nodded gloomily. "I don't see how we're going to get a field in time for football practice if we don't do more than we did last night."
"Too much talk," agreed d.i.c.k. "Somebody ought to just go ahead and find a field and then make a report on it. As for paying a hundred and twenty-five dollars a year rent for one, why, that's poppyc.o.c.k. We couldn't afford it, especially as we'll have to build a running track before next Spring."
"Way suggested that we could transfer next Spring's meet to Springdale.
That would give us nearly two years to fix up a track."
"Not a bad idea. Most of the fellows seemed to fancy that place across the river beyond the carpet mills. It would be fairly near home, but it's a mean part of town."
"Punk! If we have to find a new place-and I suppose we must-I'm for going out toward the Point. Fellows seem to think it's too far out there, but you can jump on the trolley and get there in no time. They'd put a stop opposite the field for us if we asked."
"Yes, I should think Mr. Brent would do that much for us since he's taking our field away," agreed d.i.c.k. "By the way, seen Morris yet?"
"No; I thought I'd go over this afternoon and see how he is. Maybe he's receiving callers by this time. d.i.c.k, do you know anything about running an automobile?"
d.i.c.k stared. Then he laughed. "Well, hardly, Gordie! How should I?"
"Well, of course you've never run one, but you know such a raft of stuff fellows usually don't know that--"
"You thought I'd made a study of autos? No, I'm afraid I can't advise you much, Gordie. Thinking of buying one?"
"N-no, not exactly."
"Going to rent it, then?"
"No, you idiot. I-I only wondered. I dare say you could drive an automobile finely, though. Your arms are all right and you told me once that you thought of getting one of those velocipede chairs that you work with your feet."
"I see what you're driving at. Old Man Brent has commissioned you to sell that car of Morris'. Is that it?"
Gordon looked startled, but shook his head. "No, he hasn't. I dare say, though, anyone could buy it pretty cheap," he remarked carelessly.
"I'm afraid I couldn't afford it, Gordie," d.i.c.k laughed. "You'll have to find another buyer."
"I know. I was just wondering if you _could_ run an auto if you had one."
"Why, I suppose so. I've got plenty of strength in my legs when I'm sitting down, you know, and so far my arms are still working. But I don't believe I'll ever have a chance to try, Gordie. At least, not unless you get an auto and let me run it for you. How would I do as a chauffeur?"
"I'll bet you could run an auto to the King's taste, d.i.c.k! You do most everything better than the rest of us."
"You mean I think I could! Well, I'm not stuck-up about my automobile driving, Gordie. That's one thing I'm not conceited about. Going now?"
"Yes, I guess I'd better run over to Morris'. I told his sister I'd look in pretty soon. When he can see folks, d.i.c.k, will you go over with me some time?"
"Of course. Glad to. Let me know when you want to go."
"Really?"
"Why not?"
"I don't know. I thought-you seemed sort of down on Mr. Brent and maybe you wouldn't want to go to his house."
"Oh, I'm not as down on him as all that," laughed d.i.c.k. "And, anyhow, his house never did anything to me." He paused and added soberly: "For that matter, Gordie, I don't want you to think that I am really sore against Mr. Brent. Sometimes I get sort of peeved about that affair of dad's, but maybe, after all, it was more his fault than Mr. Brent's.
Anyway, I've never accused Jonathan Brent of being dishonest. I don't think he is. Give my regards to Morris if you see him, and tell him I'll come over and call some day if he doesn't mind. See you to-morrow afternoon, Gordie. We've got to practice hard this week. And I'll tell Jack to look up his friend in the plating works."
CHAPTER XIV
A VISIT TO THE INVALID
Gordon found Morris not only able but eager to see him. Louise conducted him upstairs to a big square bedroom in the middle of which, between two bay windows, Morris' bed looked small and lonesome. There was a table by the bed, and on it was a great vase of pink roses, and some magazines, books, and gla.s.ses. A rocking-chair near the table with a magazine spread open in it suggested that someone, probably Louise, had been reading to the invalid.
Morris lay flat on his back, with only the wispiest little pillow under his head. Gordon was shocked to see how pale and drawn he looked as he waved a hand at the visitor's entrance and called quite cheerfully across the room: "h.e.l.lo, Gordon! Gee, but I'm glad to see you!"
Gordon took the chair beside the bed and asked Morris how he felt.
"Oh, pretty good, thanks! My leg's done up in a ton of plaster, I guess, and it hurts a good deal. But the doctor's tickled to death with it, and so I suppose I've got to be satisfied too. How are you? I thought you were never coming to see a fellow."
"I've been wanting to come ever since-it happened," answered Gordon; "but at first they said I mustn't see you, and then, yesterday, there was the game at Lesterville--"
"It must have been a peach of a game, even if you fellows did get beaten." Morris paused abruptly and lowered his eyes. "Say, Gordon, I guess you know I'm-I'm awfully grateful--"