Great Teams and the people who love them

“Oh, I fancy Durkin told it straight. It’s some private feud we happened
on. Too bad we didn’t follow our first intention and go toward
the village.”

The other elevated one ankle and viewed it approvingly. “Saw them in a
window in New York yesterday and fell for them at once. I’ve got another
pair that are sort of pinky-grey, ashes of roses, I guess. Watch for
them. They’ll gladden your heart. You’re new, aren’t you?”

“‘S afternoon. We met by chance. Casually I mentioned the fact that you
were probably one of the niftiest little linemen that ever broke through
the–er–stubborn defence of a desperate enemy–”

“I must drop around some time and hear him perform,” laughed the coach.
“He must be something of a character.” Amy agreed that he was, and
narrated two or three anecdotes concerning Penny to prove it. Mr.
Detweiler evidently found Amy’s discourse amusing and drew him out until
he was in the full flood of his eloquence. But when they had been there
a half hour or so their host abruptly switched the conversation.

“Oh, all right.” They raised their voices together in a loud appealing
shout. Then they listened. Not a sound answered them.

Dreer
“Don’t I? You bet I do! Anyone has a right to interfere with Harmon
Dreer. Anyone who hands him a jolt is a public benefactor.”

“Hi!” said Penny dreamily.

“Let’s tell our names,” said the other. “Mine’s Byrd; first name, Amory;
nicknamed Amy. Pretty bad, but it might be worse.”