opposite him. Maybe you’ll have to be the man.”
“Of course I’ll be awfully glad if I can make the eleven,” said Edward. “I’d rather play against anybody than Durant, though.”
“Most fellows would. He’s the best man the Corinthians have.”
“I was n’t thinking of that. He does n’t like me. I guess it won’t be very pleasant.”
“Why does n’t he like you?”
Edward told of the altercation which they had had in the baseball game.
“Oh, that’s nothing,” Blanchard said. “Durant’s quick-tempered—terribly quick-tempered.”
“He thinks I’m fresh, I guess,” Edward answered. “He does n’t care for me anyhow; I know that. When we meet he nods in a way that makes me tired. If a fellow can’t smile a little when he nods, I’d rather have him cut me altogether.”
“Well,” Blanchard laughed, “you could n’t expect Durant to care for you very much, could you?”
