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Steve wondered how they could take such a serious business so light-heartedly. Then Joe Lawrence, the manager, a football under his arm, came in with Williams and, glancing at his watch, began calling the roll. In the middle of it Coach Robey and Andy Miller and Danny Moore arrived. More lights were turned on and Mr. Robey swung the blackboard on the platform nearer the front.
There was only light practice the following Monday for those who had taken part in the Saturday game, a fact which once more allowed Coach Robey to give a good deal of attention to the second and third squads. Steve was playing right end regularly now on the third, and Tom was alternating at left guard on the second.
Robey unhesitatingly declared to be one of the best scrub teams he had ever seen, and there was more than one contest between it and the 'varsity that yielded nothing to an outside game for hard fighting and excitement. Steve and his rival, Sherrard, were running about even for the right end position.
"Hurry in to the table, you fellows," called Danny. "Williams, come here and let me see that knee of yours." "It's all right now, Danny," said Williams. But he limped across and was freshly bandaged. Mr. Robey left the window and sought Captain Miller, while "Boots," consulting the scribbled notes in his little book, went from player to player, criticising and advising.
The boy pulled himself together with an effort. He was white to the lips. "There's cholera broken out," he said. "Forbes and Robey both down at their own bungalow. And they've got it at the barracks, too. Macfarlane's there. Can you come?" "Of course at once." Merryon pulled him forward. "Go in there and get a drink while I speak to my wife!"
"I dare say they want guards and don't want ends," he replied. "Of course you've been doing good work, Tom, and deserve promotion and I'm awfully glad you've got it, but, just the same, I don't think I'm getting a square deal." "I don't either! I wish they'd left me alone and taken you on. Peters says Robey will be disbanding the third squad in a week or so, too.
"Nothing much just now. We just got through supper. They're taking the chairs and tables out of the dining-room so we can have signal drill at eight. Mr. Robey said you were to get into it if you felt all right. There's someone else downstairs who wants to see you too." And Steve grinned wickedly. "I told him I'd try to arrange an interview." "Who is it?" asked Tom suspiciously.
The lad spoke uncomfortably, as if against his will. "She asked questions, then?" Merryon's voice was sharp. "Yes, a few. She wanted to know about Forbes and Robey. Robey is awfully bad. I didn't tell her that." "Who is looking after them?" Merryon asked. "Only a native orderly now. The colonel and Macfarlane both had to go to the barracks. It's frightful there. About twenty cases already.
Robey alone of them all knew how much they would miss him. He was such a thoroughly good fellow, he was so useful to her husband in keeping order among the wilder spirits, and that without having about him a touch of the prig! Rose looked up and smiled as the tall young man came forward and shook hands with her, saying as he did so, "I hope I'm not too early?
"He is, I guess. Jack told me they were shipping Vegacura to Australia now said they sent a whole box to Cape Town last week." "Just think of that!" said Mrs. Hurstwood, "and only four years ago they had that basement in Madison Street." "Jack told me they were going to put up a six-story building next spring in Robey Street." "Just think of that!" said Jessica.
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