Publisher's Synopsis
"Here we are at the station, Dave!" "Yes, and there is Phil waiting for us," answered Dave Porter. He threw up the car window hastily. "Hi, there, Phil, this way!" he called out, lustily. A youth who stood on the railroad platform, dress-suit case in hand, turned hastily, smiled broadly, and then ran for the steps of the railroad car. The two boys already on board arose in their seats to greet him. "How are you, Dave? How are you, Ben?" he exclaimed cordially, and shook hands. "I see you've saved a seat for me. Thank you. My, but it's a cold morning, isn't it?" "I was afraid you wouldn't come on account of the weather," answered Dave Porter. "How are you feeling?" "As fine as ever," answered Phil Lawrence. "Oh, it will take more than one football game to kill me," he went on, with a light laugh. "I trust you never get knocked out like that again, Phil," said Dave Porter, seriously. "So do I," added Ben Basswood. "The game isn't worth it." "Mother thought I ought to stay home until the weather moderated a bit, but I told her you would all be on this train and I wanted to be with the crowd. Had a fine Thanksgiving, I suppose." "I did," returned Ben Basswood. "Yes, we had a splendid time," added Dave Porter, "only I should have been better satisfied if I had received some word from my father and sister." "No word yet, Dave?"
