“How’s that?”

Somewhat shyly Irving communicated the proud news about his brother.

“Oh, I read about him in to-day’s Boston newspaper,” exclaimed Barclay.

“What?” asked Irving.  “Where was it?  I didn’t see it.”

“You probably don’t read all the football news, as I do.  But you will after this.”  Barclay laughed.  “Yes, there was quite an account of that game, and Upton was mentioned as being the bright particular star on the Freshman team.  It never occurred to me that he was your brother.”

“Naturally not.  I wish I could get away to see the game with the Yale Freshmen; I’ve never seen Lawrence play.  But I don’t suppose I could manage that, could I?”

Barclay looked doubtful.  “The rector’s pretty strict with the masters as well as with the boys.  Especially when a man has charge of a dormitory.  I somehow think it wouldn’t be wise to try it,—­your first term.”

“I suppose not.  Well, I shall certainly read the football columns from now on.”

“I wonder,” remarked Barclay, “if we couldn’t get the Harvard Freshmen up here to play a practice game with our School eleven—­say, the week before the St. John’s game?  It would be good practice for them as well as for us; three or four years ago the Freshmen played here.”

“Oh, I wish we could.”  Irving’s face lighted up.  “I’ll write to my brother, and perhaps he can arrange it with the captain and manager.”

“I’ll talk it over with Collingwood first,” said Barclay.  “And then we’ll proceed officially; and you can pull any additional wires that are possible through your brother.”  He rose to go.  “I shouldn’t wonder,” he added, “if that brother of yours turned out to be a useful asset for you here.”

“I should prefer to stand on my own legs,” said Irving.  “I shan’t advertise it round that I have a football brother.”

“Oh, it won’t be necessary for you to do that; things have a way of leaking out.”  Barclay laughed as he took his departure.

As it happened, the next day Louis Collingwood, the captain of the School eleven, went to Barclay to consult him about the outlook for the season.

“It seems to me we’ll have a good School team,” said Collingwood, “but no second eleven capable of giving them hard practice—­the kind they’ll need to beat St. John’s.  If we could only arrange one or two games with outside teams, to put us into shape—­”

“I was thinking of that,” said Barclay.  “I wonder if we mightn’t get the Harvard Freshmen up here.  They have a good eleven, apparently.”

“Yes, awfully good, from all that the papers say.  Don’t you suppose their schedule is filled up?”

“It may be—­but perhaps they could give us a date.  Suppose you come over to my house this evening and we’ll send a letter off to their captain.  And I’m sure”—­Barclay threw the remark out in the most casual manner—­“Mr. Upton will be glad to approach them for us through his brother.”