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47
THE LEFT TACKLE

me about this fellow Jackson that plays opposite me, Charley. What’s the best way for me to play him?”

Charles smiled at the ingenuous question. “Would n’t you like to know! He’s a terror.”

“Just the same, I’ll bet he’s as scared of me as I am of him.”

“That’s right; talk big; it will keep your courage up,” teased Charles.

Then, perhaps because it made them both nervous, they turned from the subject of the game and talked of other things.

Charles looked at his watch. “Time for my fellows to get dressed. Blanchard will probably be wanting you too, Ned.”

As they ascended the steps of the athletic house, they saw far up the road the St. Timothy’s column advancing and heard it suddenly roll out a great cheer.

“Look, Ned, look!” Charles pointed excitedly. “There come our fellows!”

A procession of blue-bedecked barges broke through the St. Timothy’s column and trundled down toward the field.