Mr. Pennimore’s return to Sound View was delayed a week, and so it was after Dan’s success at the election when Gerald was summoned to the telephone in the school office one morning and found his father at the other end of the line. And it was three nights later that Dan and Tom and Alf took dinner with Gerald and Mr. Pennimore.

The Steamship King was a rather small man of fifty-four, with the face of a scholar rather than of a successful financier and business man. His black eyes were thoughtful and kindly, and his dark hair was as yet only slightly grizzled at the temples. The guests of the evening were very fond of him, and their liking was returned. Gerald’s mother had died when he was a few months old, and he was the only child. Until entering Yardley at the beginning of the second term last year he had been all his life in the care[81] of governesses and tutors, with his father keeping an anxious eye on him. The result was only what might have been expected. He had been coddled far too much and a trifle spoiled. But Yardley had done him good. Mr. Pennimore acknowledged that readily and had more than once thanked Dan for having been the cause of Gerald’s choice of that school. Even before his son’s entrance there Mr. Pennimore had done a good deal for the school, and now that Gerald swore allegiance to the dark blue, he was ready and anxious to do much more, and it was only half a secret that when Gerald graduated there was to be a new and very wonderful dormitory erected to the left of Dudley Hall, and that with the building was to go a generous donation to be used for the general enlargement of the school.

The Pennimore family consisted only of Mr. Pennimore and Gerald, although the big house was filled with servants. To-night the small round table in the center of the big dining room held a very merry quintet. The boys wore their dinner jackets, and wore them with quite an air—all save Tom; Tom looked and doubtless felt very uncomfortable behind his starched shirt-bosom and straining waistcoat. There was little[82] formality at that dinner, for the boys had adopted Mr. Pennimore as one of themselves, a sort of honorary member of Yardley. Mr. Pennimore had to be told all the news, and they each took a hand in bringing history down to date for his benefit. Alf’s account of the election amused him vastly, and he looked across at Tom with a twinkle in his black eyes.

“Tom,” he said, “you have the making of a politician; I can see that. And I don’t know of a better field for politics of the kind you displayed the other day than your own home State of New Jersey—with the possible exception of Delaware and Pennsylvania.”

“I’ve always thought,” remarked Alf, allowing the butler to help him to a third slice of chicken, “that Tom would make a dandy alderman. I saw an alderman once and he looked just like Tom—sort of big and lazy.”

“You wait till I get you outside,” growled Tom.

“Now tell me about football,” said their host. “I feel quite honored at having three gridiron heroes at my table at once. Going to whip Broadwood again this year?”

“You bet we are!” declared Gerald emphatically.

[83]

“We’d stand a better chance, sir,” said Tom, “if we had a good quarter back and a good captain.”

“Eh? But I thought that—I thought Alf was—was—” Mr. Pennimore looked about the table bewilderedly, and Gerald broke into laughter.

“That’s just Tom’s joke, sir. Alf is captain and quarter. And he’s a dandy, too!”

“Oh, I see.” Mr. Pennimore joined the laughter. “I thought I wasn’t mistaken about it. And you play end, don’t you, Dan? And Tom, here, is——”

“Water carrier,” interrupted Alf pleasantly. “Quite correct, sir. And one of the best we’ve ever had—when he doesn’t go to sleep and fall into the pail.”

“Tom’s right half back, sir,” said Gerald, “and you mustn’t mind what they say about the team. It’s a mighty good team, and it’s going to lick spots out of Broadwood in just about two weeks.”

“I’m glad to hear it, son. Has the team had a good season so far, Alf?”

“Only fair, sir. We won from Greenburg, Forrest Hill and St. John’s, tied Carrel’s and lost to Porter and Brewer. The Brewer game ought to have been ours, though. The referee gave them[84] a touchdown they didn’t make. The ball was dead about twenty yards from our goal and a Brewer half picked it up and ran over with it.”

“But didn’t you—ah—protest?”

“Until I was black in the face,” replied Alf disgustedly. “But it didn’t do any good. The referee was a man they’d picked up somewhere and he was punk. They say he’s a baseball umpire. Maybe he is; he certainly isn’t a football referee.”

“And who do you play Saturday?” asked Mr. Pennimore.

“Nordham, sir. It’s our last game before we tackle Broadwood.”

“And have they a good team this year?”

“One of the best ever, sir. They’ve got a fellow named Warren—he was center for Princeton last year—helping coach over there. They say he’s a wonder.”

“Well,” said Dan, “we’ve got a Yale man coming down to-morrow to help us. And Alf’s brother ............