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 Pogis Hotspurs won from the Lancashire Argonauts or the Welsh Terriers beat the Bermin'am Brindles."

"Oh, I see," said Clif. "Over in England, eh?"

"Yes, sir," replied Wattles gravely. "It's the game I know best, Mr. Bingham."

"Don't you like our game?"

"Oh, yes, sir, it's most interesting, but I don't understand it so very well yet. It seems just a bit confusing to the—the layman, sir."

Loring chuckled, and Clif, smiling, said: "Oh, but you'll soon get the hang of it, Wattles, and be cheering your head off for us."

"Very likely, sir, and I'm sure I hope you will be successful, Mr. Bingham. I have been giving a great deal of attention and study to the game, but—" and here Wattles smiled reproachfully—"Mister Loring isn't much help, sir."

Clif looked inquiringly at Loring. Loring was instantly indignant. "Why, how you talk, Wattles! I've explained and explained to you, you thankless beggar!"

Wattles's discreet smile appeared again. "Yes, Mister Loring, you have, but recently when I asked you why one of the young gentlemen stayed so far away from the scrum—"

"Scrimmage, Wattles."

"Yes, sir, scrimmage. Well, sir, you said he was an extra man and wasn't allowed to take part until one of the others was injured, but I observed that very shortly afterwards he tackled the young gentleman who was