Keating was a new boy who did not know any Sixth Formers and looked upon them all as cold and snobbish.
“Not much they won’t,” said Lawrence, who was not a new boy. “They’ll think they can bat us all over the lot, and that it will give them something to jolly us about the rest of the year.”
“Well, maybe it will,” said Edward. “But it will be fun just the same—especially if the fellows in the Fourth who don’t play will come out on the side-lines and yell for us.”
Lawrence snickered to himself. “I tell you what would be great,” he said. “Let’s get a rise out of the Fifth Form. It’s a poor form, you know—hardly any good athletes in it. Let’s challenge the Sixth to play us for the championship of the School. That will make the Fifth so sore they’ll bite.”
That idea did not interest Edward especially, though it made him laugh. The game was the thing that appealed to him. He went to Blanchard before study that afternoon; he felt that he knew Blanchard a little better than he did Bell or Payne, and moreover that