That very afternoon Chad met Dan in a football game--an old-fashioned game,
in which there were twenty or thirty howling lads on each side and nobody
touched the ball except with his foot--met him so violently that, clasped in
each other's arms, they tumbled to the ground.

"Leggo!" said Dan.

"S'pose you leggo!" said Chad.

As Dan started after the ball he turned to look at Chad and after the game he
went up to him.

"Why, aren't you the boy who was out at Major Buford's once?"

"Yes." Dan thrust out his hand and began to laugh. So did Chad, and each knew
that the other was thinking of the tournament.

"In college?"

"Math'matics," said Chad. "I'm in the kitchen fer the rest."

"Oh!" said Dan. "Where you living?" Chad pointed to the dormitory, and again
Dan said "Oh!" in a way that made Chad flush, but added, quickly:

"You better play on our side to-morrow."

Chad looked at his clothes--foot-ball seemed pretty hard on clothes--"I don't
know," he said--"mebbe."

It was plain that neither of the boys was holding anything against Chad, but