The talk drifted to other subjects, and for half an hour Carr entertained the fellows with stories and amusing anecdotes. He was a good talker and had apparently had all sorts of interesting experiences, but he also knew when to leave off. As the clock struck half-past nine he arose briskly to his feet. “Well, boys, I must be running along,” he said, with a smile. “Had a bully evening, Keran, and no end glad to meet these friends of yours. I’ll see you all again before Saturday, I hope.” He slipped into his overcoat and started toward the door. At that moment Kenny recollected that he ought to do some studying that night, so he followed the older man out. At the head of the stairs they said good night again, and, as they shook hands, the quarter back said carelessly: “If you’d care to drop in and see me some night, I’d be awfully glad to have you. My rooms are on the next floor.” “Thanks very much,” returned Carr. “I’ll take you up some night and smoke a cigar with you. By-by.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER XXV THE EXPLOSION. Jack Kenny, arrayed in his well-worn, faded football togs, sat lacing up his shoes. He was feeling fine. His grouch of the night before had pretty well worn off, and, as he pulled the laces tight, he warbled a little ditty which had just been going the rounds of New Haven: “There was a girl in our town, And she was good to scan. She spent her days in playing games Where she got lots of tan. And when she saw the tan was on, With all her might and main, She rushed into a beauty shop And took it off again.” The air was insidiously catchy, and, without realizing it, most of the dozen fellows who thronged the locker room in various stages of undress, hustling to clothe themselves for the afternoon practice, began to hum it. Kenny stood up and stamped each foot hard. Then, in his droning, monotonous undertone—he had very little voice and less ear—he commenced the second verse: “There was a girl in our town Built on a mammoth plan.” Then the fellows woke up. “Cut it out!” “Shut up!” “Close your trap, you old idiot!” “You sound like a scissor grinder!” Kenny ceased his musical efforts and looked around in wild-eyed surprise. “Thought you liked it,” he grinned. “You were all humming it to beat the cars.” “Of course we were!” retorted Rudolph Rose. “Why wouldn’t we when you start us going?” “I’d just got the beastly thing out of my head after whistling it the whole blessed morning,” grumbled Teddy Baxter, “when you had to go and begin it again.” “Too bad,” Kenny sighed with suspicious meekness. “I won’t do it again.”