Barry looked at the other doubtfully. It sounded like a joke, but Peaches was absolutely grave as he watched the home team pile through the opponent’s right for a long gain. Barry reflected that perhaps he had been talking too much. He was apt to forget that Peaches was a full year older and a class ahead of him and might not always find his conversation absorbing. When he did remember those facts he wondered at the intimacy between them. Peaches was so queer about friends! He seemed to know almost every one and to be very popular, yet he didn’t go with any one. Walter Millington appeared to be the nearest approach to a pal, barring Barry himself, and even Mill wasn’t really chummy. The reflection that, after all, perhaps Clyde was right about Peaches, occurred to him. Maybe there was some fault that kept other fellows away. Yet, the others didn’t act as if they were avoiding Peaches. No, it seemed the other way about! Barry gave it up and followed his companion’s example in watching the game. Toward the last of the third period the Major began using substitutes liberally, and both Clyde and Hal Stearns went in, Clyde at right half and Hal at left guard. Barry thought Clyde played very well and he expressed the opinion to Peaches. “Allen? Not bad. Want any more of this? If not, let’s stretch our legs and mosey along to the Palace for a couple of chocolate-milks.” There was still another period, but Barry decided for Peaches’ society and a milk-shake at the Palace Drug Store. The half-hearted cheering diminished in volume as they made their way to the road. As they reached it a small youth carrying a violin-case came out of a gate ahead and turned northward. “Isn’t that the child virtuoso?” asked Peaches. Barry assented. “He’s taking lessons from Mr. Banks, he told me yesterday. Mr. Banks teaches music at the high school.” Peaches hailed and Zo Fessenden waited for them. As usual, he was embarrassed for the first few minutes, and Peaches’ good-natured fun brought only shy smiles. Finally Peaches said: “Zo, I’m going to ask you something, and I want a plain answer from man to man.” He nodded toward the violin. “Do you like doing that or was it wished on you?” “Both, I guess,” Zo replied. “I didn’t like it at first, but my mother wanted me to learn, and after a while I liked it better. Now I like it a whole lot.” “Spoken like a hero,” said Peaches. “My mind is at rest. Shall you make a business――no, profession――of it? Play before the crowned heads of Europe and all that?” “Maybe by the time I can really play there won’t be any crowned heads left,” answered Zo. “But I think I shall try to make it my――my lifework.” Peaches exchanged a swift glance of amusement with Barry.