Jimmy had a badly wrapped parcel under one arm from which protruded the label of what was, for all the world to know, a carton of biscuits of a popular and well advertised brand. Jimmy whistled because he was rather in the dumps, and it was for the same reason that, having hurried himself into civilian clothes after the game, he had set forth alone for Bagdad and the bazaars thereof. It always cheered Jimmy up wonderfully to spend money, and to-day, being in need of cheering after his dismal fiasco as a punter, and having plenty of money on hand, he had fared from store to store and bought a number of things of which he stood in no immediate want--mostly edible! He dumped his disintegrating parcel on the counter and smiled brightly, gayly at Russell.
“Hello,” he greeted. “How’s the busy mart of trade, Emerson?” He glanced across the store and then swung himself to a seat on the counter. “Guess I’ll buy me one of those things,” he went on in a lower and confidential tone, nodding toward the wreath. “Place it on my dead hopes, Emerson.”
“Dead hopes?” repeated Russell questioningly and smilingly.
“Ah,” replied Jimmy, “you weren’t at the game, then. I see. If you had been you wouldn’t have asked that question, Emerson. Yes, sir, my poor dead hopes. You see, I had an idea that I could become a punter. I toiled and moiled-- Say, what is that? Anyway, I did it, and to-day Johnny let me in in the last quarter and I tried twice to punt the ball and each time I--well, the thing almost hit me on the head when it came down!”
“Dropped the ball too late, probably,” offered Russell. “I guess it takes a lot of practice, punting. You’ll probably bring it off all right the next time. By the way, what do you think of that ball you bought here?”
“That’s what I dropped in about,” said Jimmy, brightening again. “Came over for a few eats”--he glanced unenthusiastically at the parcel--“and thought I’d drop in and tell you about that there ball, Emerson. It’s a corker! It’s a dream! It--it’s all right! Say, honest, if I’d had that ball in the game I’d have poked it fifty yards, Emerson. Honest, I would! I like it mighty well, and I’ve talked it up a lot. Showed it to Mart Proctor the other day; and Johnny Cade, too. I wouldn’t be surprised if you sold quite a few of them this fall. Well, how are things going with you? Been busy to-day?”