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THE PURPLE PENNANT

"I savvy. William week-days and Fudge Sunday, eh?" Perry smiled politely at the joke, but Fudge's expression remained serious and distrustful. "I'd like to see you fellows play some time," continued their host. "I used to play football at college, but I never tried baseball. Didn't have time. Sprinting and hurdling were my stunts. Do you have a track team at your school?"

"Yes, sir," answered Perry eagerly, "and he and I are trying for it this year. Fudge is learning to put the shot and throw the hammer and I'm trying the sprints."

"You don't say? How old are you, Hull?"

"Fifteen."

"You look older. What's your time for the hundred?"

"I—I don't know yet. Skeet—he's our coach—gave me a trial the other day, but he wouldn't tell me what my time was."

Mr. Addicks nodded. "I see. What's the school record?"

Perry didn't know, but Fudge supplied the information. "It's ten and a fifth. Lanny White did it last year against Springdale."

"That's good work! I'd like to see that chap run. I suppose you have your work-outs in the

afternoons, don't you? If I didn't have to—if I

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