The Prospector | Page 7

what her mother might wish to see him for, and when Betty tried to extract a promise from him he muttered something about being "far behind in his work and very busy."
But Betty was not to be baulked.
"I should like to call on your mother," she said. But again Shock looked blank, while Brown began to make faces at her from behind his back.
"When will your mother be in?" she persisted.
"Oh, she's in every day, except when she goes out for a walk, or--"
Brown kept up his signalling, and The Don began to look puzzled and annoyed.
"Well," said Betty desperately, "I would like to go and see her some day."
Shock hesitated, blushed, and then answered: "We have no friends in the city, and we do not visit much, and--"
"Oh, I'll tell you, Miss Betty," burst in Brown. "Get a sharp attack of typhoid and Mrs. Macgregor will then come and see you. She's a great nurse."
"That she is," said Shock enthusiastically. "She would be glad to come."
"Come along, Brown," broke in The Don. "We are late now. Come along, Shock," and the three men went off together, leaving Lloyd behind.
"Isn't he awful?" said Beth. "And didn't I humiliate myself?"
"You certainly deserved humiliation," said her sister indignantly. "You might have seen he was dreadfully shy, and you ought to have left him alone. And now for my great idea. I will take you both into my confidence. I am going to drive Mrs. Macgregor to the match to- morrow."
"Splendid!" exclaimed Betty. "And I'll go with you. But how can you persuade her?"
"I have thought about that," said Helen. "We'll ask Mr. Brown to drive around with us a little before, and I'm sure she will go."
"Will you allow me to join the party?" humbly asked Lloyd, "or is there someone else?"
"Oh," said Betty, "we are sure to need somebody, and you will do as well as any other."
In obedience to an invitation conveyed by Lloyd, Brown appeared at the Fairbanks house in the early morning. Eagerly the young ladies propounded their plan. At once Brown entered heartily into it, and calling with them in the afternoon persuaded the old lady that she ought to attend the great match, emphasising especially the fact that Shock would be delighted to see her there, and would be stimulated to do his very best by her presence.
"It will likely be his last game, too," urged Brown.
This finally decided the matter, and so it turned out that perhaps the most enthusiastic, and certainly the most picturesque, of all the groups that surrounded the campus next day was that which filled the Fairbanks carriage, consisting of two young ladies, an elegantly attired young man, and a quaint, plainly dressed, but undeniably dignified, old lady.

II
VARSITY VERSUS McGILL
It is a glorious autumn day. The smoky air with just a nip of the coming frost in it hangs still over the trees, through whose bare tops and interlacing boughs the genial sunlight falls in a golden glory upon the grass below. The nip in the air, the golden light, the thrilling uncertainty of the coming match, the magnitude of the issue at stake, combine to raise the ardour of football enthusiasts to the highest pitch.
The record of each team is unique. Each has gone through the championship series without a single reverse. Perhaps never in their history have both universities been more worthily represented than by the teams that are to contest to-day the championship of the Dominion.
The McGill men are the first to appear on the campus, and are welcomed with loud and generous cheers, which are, however, redoubled upon the appearance of the 'Varsity champions.
Many eyes are turned upon the Fairbanks carriage. The young ladies are well known in University circles; but the quaint old lady, looking so handsome in spite of her plain black bonnet, awakens the curiosity of the crowd, which only increases when it becomes known that she is Shock's mother.
"Do you see Hamish, my dear?" inquires the old lady. "They are so much alike I cannot distinguish him."
"Go and bring him," cries Betty, and Lloyd returns in a moment with Shock and little Brown.
"Mother! mother! This is awful. You won't like it a bit. You'll think I'm getting killed many a time."
But the old lady only smiles placidly. "Indeed, and I'm not afraid for you. Run away, Hamish, and be careful of the laddies."
"Don't tell him that, Mrs. Macgregor," pleads Brown. "He's far too gentle as it is."
Some few minutes are spent in arranging for the kick-off.
"Oh, I do wish they would start," exclaims Betty, standing up in the carriage. "If they would only start!" she repeats. "I want to have a chance to shriek."
"There they go!" exclaims Lloyd.
It is McGill's kick. Huntingdon, the big captain and centre forward, takes it magnificently, following up