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his brother in the midst of them, waving at him.

In another moment the barge had stopped at the steps of the athletic house, and the St. John’s fellows scrambled out and St. Timothy’s ran up to welcome them. Edward was the first and had his brother by the hand; and when the next moment Blanchard came up, Charles, clinging to Edward, said, “Hello, Blanchard; I hear there’s an awfully weak spot in your line.”

Blanchard grinned.

“You’ll make a mistake if you act on that idea,” he replied.

There was a quarter of an hour before it would be time to dress, so the two Crashaw brothers went off by themselves; they found a sunny corner on the south side of the athletic house, and sat there with their backs against the wall.

One would hardly have taken them for brothers; Edward, the larger, heavier of the two, was round-faced, with softly moulded features, whereas Charles was wiry and had a