“Yes, sir, stu-pend-ous news! Mr. Charles Cotton is going out for the football team!” The Duke chuckled. “Can you imagine it? Picture the doughty Charles hurling himself fiercely against the――the craven foe, his eyes lighted with the joy of battle and the ball clasped desperately to his heaving chest! Get it? What? He told me of his decision this morning, his epoch-marking decision. Epoch-marking is some language, what? I’ve been simply bursting with the news ever since, but you’re the first fellow I’ve told. My word, but I’ll bet Payson will be pleased!” He looked at Kendall and grinned. “Simply lays you flat, doesn’t it? Can’t express yourself at all, what? I knew you’d be overcome. I congratulated Charles with tears in my voice, Burtis. I said to him, ‘Charles, my boy, this is indeed a happy moment for the old school. I thank you. I thank you on behalf of my schoolmates, Charles, on behalf of the team, on behalf of the coach and the captain! And I thank you on my own behalf, Charles, for you have brought joy to my sad heart, light to my weary eyes and laughter to my lips!’ Yes, sir, I said all that. And do you think he was pleased? Not a bit of it! He turned upon me like――like a viper and called me――well, I think I’d better not tell you what he called me. It was distinctly in bad taste.”