“With The Duke? What the dickens did you do?” “Oh, nothing much. Just paddled up to the island and sat there. Some fellows came along and we talked.” “And that’s your idea of a bully time!” marveled Gerald. “George, observe our young friend and take a lesson from him. Forget that Broadwood beat you yesterday. Paddle on the river and cheer up!” “Did they really beat us?” asked Kendall. Kirk nodded gloomily. “They simply slaughtered us.” “Don’t get him on the subject again, Kendall,” begged Gerald. “I found him moping on the steps and brought him along to brighten him up. He’s wailed and bewailed for half an hour and I can stand no more of it. Let’s find a cheerful subject of conversation, such as supper.” “I’m awfully sorry,” said Kendall sympathetically. “Let it go at that, then,” said Gerald. “You’ll start him off again if you aren’t careful. What lovely weather we’re having, George!” Kirk laughed. “Well, we’ll get back at them in the Spring,” he said hopefully. “I wish you’d try for the team, Burtis.” “I don’t think I’d ever make a golfer,” replied Kendall. “You know I tried last year, Kirk.” “I know you did. And did mighty well, too. All you need is practice. I wish you’d think it over. It’s so hard to get good fellows for the team!” “Maybe I will, if you want me to,” said Kendall. “I like golf very much, only I don’t believe I’d ever become much of a player.” “I think you would,” replied Kirk earnestly. “Any fellow who can do as well in football as you’re doing, and has such a dandy sense of directions and distance as you must have to kick those goals, ought to make a good golfer.” Kendall smiled, and, seeing the inquiring look on Kirk’s face, explained. “I was thinking of something Ned Tooker said last year. Ned said that a good football player couldn’t be a good golf player; that the one spoiled him for the other; I forget just why.” Kirk laughed. “Well, Ned was the best golfer we’ve ever had here, but he didn’t know everything. And, besides, Ned was fond of saying things just for the sound of them!” “A common failing,” grieved Gerald as he splashed and gurgled at the stand. “Alas, how”――gurgle――“few of us”――sniff! splash!――“consider the sense”――sniff! sniff!――“of our utterances! Where’s that towel?” “Then it’s a promise, is it, Burtis?” asked the golf captain eagerly. “Why――er――yes, if you like. At least, I’ll give it a fair try, Kirk.” “Good stuff! We’ll have some games together after the Broadwood game’s over. Well, I’ll run along. ’Bye, Gerald.” “’Bye,” answered Gerald from behind a towel. “Call again, Georgie.” “Perhaps I will some day. By the way!” Kirk stopped at the door. “What sort of a chap is that Cotton? I mean the fellow who rooms with The Duke. All right, is he?” “All right?” echoed Gerald. “I’d say he was pretty much all wrong. There’s no harm in him, though, I guess. Ask Kendall. He’s a great chum of Kendall’s. Thick as thieves, they are!”