Corinthian matches and the game with St. John’s.
“He’s the best scorer we have,” Lawrence said to Edward. “And I guess your brother is the best for St. John’s. I saw the game last year, and the way those two played was enough to scare you; they’re terribly aggressive. I thought one of ’em would be knocked out sure.”
“Charles handles himself pretty well,” Edward replied. “He’s never yet been knocked out in football or anything.”
Nevertheless when, a week later, Edward went home for the Christmas vacation, he found his brother, who had preceded him by a day, nursing a badly discolored eye and a sprained thumb.
“Gee, Charley, but you’re a mess!” were Edward’s first words. “What have you been doing to yourself?”
“Oh, just got smashed up a little in the last hockey practice. I don’t suppose I can go to any parties looking like this.” Charles examined himself ruefully in the glass. “Are
