The boys had left their regular clothes in a room at the hotel, and to this they repaired to shed the dirty, sweat-stained garments of the game. Stone took no part in their light-hearted chatter; when they congratulated him, he simply said he had tried to do his best. Finally, bearing his bundle of football togs, he descended with Roger and found Mr. Eliot’s car waiting at the door. Little Amy was in the car with her father, who sat beside the driver. The child laughed and clapped her hands as her brother and Ben appeared.