Laid out, Jim? Want me to trot out and get a doc?" Old Jud was sitting easily on the edge of Jim's bed, and in the light of that grin, even Jim Lefferts could not be very sour as he tried to sneer, "No, thanks."
Roberts turned to Elmer again, and gloated:
"Well, old son, I've been hearing a lot about you. Gee whillikins, that must have been a great game you played against Thorvilsen College! They tell me when you hit that line, it gave like a sponge, and when you tackled that big long Swede, he went down like he'd been hit by lightning."
"Well, it was—it was a good game."
"Course I read about it at the time—"
"Did you, honest?"
"—and course I wanted to hear more about it, and meet you, Hell-cat, so I been asking the boys about you, and say, they certainly do give you a great hand! Wish I could've had you with me on my team at U of Chi—we needed a tackle like you."
Elmer basked.
"Yes, sir, the boys all been telling me what a dandy fine fellow you are, and what a corking athlete, and what an A 1 gentleman. They all say there's just one trouble with you, Elmer lad."
"Eh?"
"They say you're a coward."
"Heh? Who says I'm a coward?"
Judson Roberts swaggered across from the bed, stood with his hand on Elmer's shoulder. "They all say it, Hell-cat! You see it takes a sure-enough dyed-in-the-wool brave man to be big enough to give Jesus a shot at him, and admit he's licked when he tries to fight God! It takes a man with guts to kneel down and admit his worthlessness when all the world is jeering at him! And you haven't got that kind of courage, Elmer. Oh, you think you're such a big cuss—"
Old Jud swung him around; Old Jud's hand was crushing his shoulder. "You think you're too husky, too good, to associate with the poor little sniveling gospel-mongers, don't you! You could knock out any of 'em, couldn't you! Well, I'm one of 'em. Want to knock me out?"
With one swift jerk Roberts had his coat off, stood with a striped silk shirt revealing his hogshead torso.
"You bet, Hell-cat! I'm willing to fight you for the glory
