Page:The Rival Pitchers.djvu/18

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8
THE RIVAL PITCHERS

made fun of. "Look at my hat," and he held up the felt article, which was in tatters.

"New style," commented Holly casually. "Good for hot weather. Fine for a souvenir. Hand it around and we'll all put our initials on it, and you can hang it in your room. But say, is there anything doing?"

"There may be, to-night," answered Langridge.

"So—so?" asked Holly with a wink, the while he pretended to ring an imaginary bell.

"Keep it mum," was Langridge's answer. "You fellows want to meet at the boathouse to-night," he went on, as if giving orders. "Don't forget what I told you, and don't walk as if you had new shoes on. Take it easy. Be there at eight o'clock. Come along, Holly. I want to talk to you."

Langridge linked his arm in that of the newcomer, and the two strolled off to one side of the college campus, while the group of freshmen made their way toward one of the two large dormitory buildings.

"He orders us around as if we were working for him," objected Phil Clinton. "Langridge takes too much for granted."

"Well, he's been here a year, and I s'pose he feels like a soph," remarked Sid Henderson.

"Maybe, but that doesn't make him one. He thinks because he's got plenty of money, and comes from Chicago, that he can run things here, but