"We'll have to take a walk around a few blocks yet, fellows." "Why ?" Dan Dalzell wanted to know.

"What difference does a matter of a few minutes make ?" "Haven't you had it rubbed into you enough that you're only a measly freshman ?" laughed Dick.

"And don't you know a freshman is called a freshman only because he can't dare to do anything that looks the least little bit fresh?
From an upper classman's point of view we've had a thumping big privilege accorded us, and we don't want to spoil it by running it into the ground.
So I vote for a walk that will make us at least two minutes late going into the football headquarters." "My vote goes with yours," nodded Dave Darrin.
The good sense of it appealed to all the chums, so they strolled away again, and came back three minutes late, Outside the door they halted.

Some of the awe of the conscious freshman came upon two or three of the chums.
"You go in first, Dick," urged Tom Reade.
"It was you who got the invite, anyway," hinted Greg Holmes.
Laughing quietly Dick turned the knob of the door.

He went in bravely enough, but some of his chums followed rather sheepishly.
Fred Ripley, who had dropped in five minutes before, saw them at once, and scowled.
"'Ware freshmen!" he called, rather loudly.
Nearly all the members of the regular and sub teams were present.
Most of them were going through an Indian club drill at the further end of the room.