"Oh, lots of things. I'll go hunting for gold somewhere, or strike out for South America or Africa." "Oh!" The Big Man was immensely relieved; but he added incredulously, "Then you'll give up football and baseball?" "Looks that way."[19] [19] "You won't mind?" "Yes," said the Butcher, suddenly, "I will mind. I'll hate to leave the old school. I'd like to have one chance more." "Why don't you tell the Doctor that?" "Never! I don't cry out when I'm caught, youngster. I take my punishment." "Yes," said the Big Man, reflecting. "That's right, I suppose; but, then, there's the team to think of, you know." They sat for a long time in silence, broken suddenly by the Butcher's voice, not so gruff as usual. "Say, Big Man—feeling sort of homesick?" No answer. "Just a bit?" Still no answer. The Butcher looked down, and saw the Big Man struggling desperately to hold in the sobs. "Here, none of that, youngster!" he exclaimed in alarm. "Brace up, old man!" "I—I'm all right," said the Great Big Man with difficulty. "It's nothing." The Butcher patted him on the shoulder, and then drew his arm around the little body. The Big Man put his head down and blubbered, just as though he had been a little fellow, while his companion sat perplexed, wondering what to do or say in the strange situation. "So he's a little homesick, is he?" he said lamely.[20] [20] "N-o-o," said the Great Big Man, "not just that; it's—it's all the fellows I miss."
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