Captain Emerson, Billy Wells, Bee Appel and Perry Stimson had gone over to Lakeville to watch Kenly Hall play Rutledge. Consequently Alton faced Oak Grove that afternoon minus the services of five of her best players. Kerrison took Rus’s place at right end, Wilde substituted for the “demon tackle,” as Slim called Billy Wells, Carpenter went in at quarter, a newcomer named Grant played right guard and Raleigh played left. Probably Coach Cade could have sprinkled in half a dozen third-string players beside and still seen the contest won by the Gray-and-Gold, for Oak Grove, selected for the last game but one because she was never formidable, proved weak beyond expectation. Alton piled up three scores in the first two periods, for a total of 21 points, and held the visitor to a field-goal. When the third quarter started Cruikshank was at the helm, and Goodwin, Kendall and Dakin completed the backfield. As the final half progressed other substitutions took place and when the last whistle blew only one man was on who had started the contest, and that man was Sam Butler. Leonard stayed on until the fourth period and then gave way to Falls. Two more scores, a touchdown and a field-goal by Kendall from the thirty-four yards, had added 10 points more to an impressive total. Oak Grove had, however, in the third period taken advantage of a fumble by Cruikshank and banged her way through for a touchdown, and the final figures were 31 to 10.

Leonard played a good if not startling game at right guard that afternoon. Perhaps he would have performed better had there been more incentive, but Oak Grove’s inferiority had shown early in the game, and Alton’s first two scores had been made before the first period was done, and one doesn’t fight as hard against a vanquished opponent as against one who still threatens. Besides that, Leonard’s adversaries – there were two of them – were not difficult. On the whole, that game proved scarcely good practice for the home team.

What had happened to Gordon Renneker was a question that many asked, for the former right guard was neither on the side-line or in the stand. Some insisted that he had accompanied the scouts to Lakeville, but that explanation was refused by others who had seen him at least an hour after dinner time. Leonard wondered and speculated, too, but it wasn’t until Johnny McGrath dropped in at Number 12 Haylow that evening, just as Slim and Leonard were starting for the movies, that the matter was cleared up for him. Jimsy Carnochan, it seemed, had met Johnny on the street just before supper and confessed to having written to Coach Cade.

“I guess he was sort of sorry he’d done it,” said Johnny, “but he wouldn’t say so. Maybe I didn’t read the riot-act to him, though! We nearly had a scrap!”

“I hope he chokes!” commented Slim bitterly. “That was a swell thing to do, just before the Kenly game! Leaves us flat for a right guard, and no time to find one. He ought to be – be – ”

“I guess it was more my fault than any one’s,” said Johnny regretfully. “I shouldn’t have lugged him to the game that time and let him see Renneker.”

“You bet you shouldn’t,” agreed Slim heartily. But Leonard demurred.

“Piffle,” he said, “Johnny isn’t to blame. Better blame Renneker for getting fresh the other night and getting Carnochan down on him. Maybe we’re taking too much for granted, anyway, fellows. Maybe Mr. Cade just kept Renneker out of to-day’s game while he looks into the business.”

“Renneker wasn’t at training table for supper,” said Slim. “That means that he’s done for. I call it a pretty rotten piece of business!”

They lugged Johnny along to the pictures and discussed the matter very thoroughly both going and returning. Slim agreed eventually that maybe Leonard would hold down Renneker’s position satisfactorily, but they couldn’t get him to acknowledge that Mr. Cade had acted rightly in dismissing Renneker from the team. He said some very disapproving things of the coach, sneered at him for being a “Lily-white” and doubted that he or any one else could present adequate proof that Renneker had received money for playing baseball. Especially, however, he was bitter against Carnochan, and would have sought that gentleman out and presented him with a piece of his mind had not Leonard and Johnny dissuaded him. In the end they all agreed that it was up to them to keep what they knew to themselves, and by Monday they were very glad that they had, for Gordon Renneker was out on the field in togs coaching the guards and the news was abroad that he had been dropped because of difficulties with the Office. That was such a plausible explanation that no one doubted it, although one might have wondered how it was that he was allowed to aid in the coaching. The incident seemed to have made no great difference to Renneker. He was perhaps a bit more stand-offish than ever and inclined to sarcastic criticisms that seldom failed to get under the skin of Raleigh, who, worried over his failure to make progress that fall, was in no mood for the big fellow’s caustic humor. That the two never quite came to blows was chiefly due to the fact that practice came to an end just before Raleigh’s patience did.

Leonard had definitely taken Renneker’s position. Had Leonard had any doubt about it Coach Cade’s announcement on Tuesday would have dispelled it. “You’ll start the Kenly game, Grant,” said the coach after practice that afternoon, “and I expect you to show me that I haven’t made a mistake in selecting you instead of Falls. You’ve done very well indeed so far. You play a fast, heady game, my boy, and I’ll say frankly that when you’ve two or three more inches and another twenty pounds on you you’ll be a mighty good guard. You’ve got faults, but I hope you’ll get rid of most of them by Saturday. Starting before the ball is one of them. Tenney has four cases marked against you, and just because you’ve got by so far without being penalized doesn’t mean that you won’t get caught finally. And when an official once finds a player off-side he watches that player hard ever after; and sometimes he sees faults where there aren’t any, without meaning to. It’s just a case of giving a dog a bad name. I want you to steady down and look out for that trouble. Another thing, Grant, is over-eagerness to get through. It’s a good fault, if any fault can be said to be good, but it works against the play sometimes. Frequently you’re across the line when you ought to be still on your own side, which means that you’re out of the play when you might be helping it along. When you get your signal think what it means. Think where the play’s going and what your part is in it. Don’t break through and think afterwards, Grant. You’ve got a good nose for the ball, but don’t let it run away with you. It’s a fine thing to be able to put your man out and then get down the field under a punt, but we’ve got ends and backs to do that trick. Your part is to guard your center until the ball is passed, on attack, and then make the hole or stop the other fellow from coming through. In other words, you’re a bulldog first and a grayhound afterwards. Once you’ve done your duty thoroughly I don’t care how hard you go after the ball, but don’t skimp the duty. Sure first and then fast, ought to be your motto, my boy. How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” answered Leonard stoutly.

The coach smiled. “Good! What’s the matter with that ankle?”

“Ankle?” repeated Leonard innocently.

“Yes, the left one. You’ve been limping, you know.”

“Oh, that! Why, nothing at all, sir. I gave it a sort of a turn, you know.”

“Tell the trainer to look at it, and don’t forget it.”

Captain Emerson and his brother scouts had brought back scant information from the Kenly Hall-Rutledge game. Rutledge had been outclassed from the first, and, without showing too much of her possibilities, Kenly had piled up 16 points against her while keeping her own goal intact. Kenly had made an average showing during the season. She had played one more game than Alton and had won all but two of them. Lorimer had beaten her decisively and Middleboro had tied her at 7 to 7. She had, for her, a light team, but one that was capable of speed and versatility. She had specialized in forward-passing during the early part of the season, but of late had fallen back on line plays for her gains, although signs were not wanting that forward-passes were still in her repertory. Briefly, Kenly Hall School was rather more of a mystery to her ancient rival this year than she generally was, and, since it is human nature to fear the unknown, there was less confidence at Alton than was usual before the big game.

The eleventh-hour loss of Gordon Renneker was a severe blow to most followers of the game at Alton. There were many who believed, not a few very ardently, in Leonard Grant’s ability to completely fill Renneker’s shoes, but they were in the minority. It stood to reason, naturally, that a youngster like Grant, lacking size, weight and experience could not wholly take the place of an All-Scholastic star. Leonard himself agreed with the majority. Oddly enough, Gordon Renneker did not. This was divulged on Wednesday when, after a half-hour of strenuous work for the guards and tackles and centers, the little squad returned to the bench and blankets to await their call to the scrimmage. Leonard found Renneker beside him when he had pulled the gray blanket around him. So far what might be called personal intercourse between them had been limited to those few words exchanged in the taxicab on the occasion of their arrival at Alton two months before. Now, after a moment, Renneker said abruptly:

“You’re going mighty well, Grant.”

“Thanks,” Leonard stammered. In spite of himself, he still found it impossible not to be impressed and a bit awed by Renneker’s imperturbable air of superiority.

“I don’t see why you shouldn’t hold down that place as well as I could have done,” the other continued thoughtfully. “Hope so. Nasty trick, my getting dropped, Grant. I wouldn’t want the team to suffer by it. I don’t fancy it will, though, if you play the way I think you can.”

“Well, I don’t know,” muttered the other. “Aren’t you – isn’t there any chance of you getting in Saturday?”

“Oh, dear, no,” replied Renneker calmly. “Not a chance.”

“I’m sorry,” said Leonard. Renneker turned a slow glance on him. Then: “Thanks, but it’s of no consequence,” he said.

He nodded carelessly, arose and sauntered away.

Leonard wondered why he had asked such an idle question. He had known well enough that Renneker wouldn’t get back. He felt very sorry for him just then.

Later, he told Slim what Renneker had said, and Slim frowned and grunted: “Mighty decent of him, I’ll say.”

Leonard assented, but with too little enthusiasm to satisfy the other. “If it was me,” Slim went on, “I guess I wouldn’t be talking like that to you. I’d be feeling too sore about losing my position.”

“Well, but it isn’t my fault he’s off the team,” objected Leonard, mildly.

Slim grunted again. “Never mind; he’s off, and that’s what counts!”

Leonard felt that there was something wrong somewhere in Slim’s point of view, but he was too tired to pursue the matter.

There was a short session against the second team on Thursday, and then the whistle blew for the last time, and the season on Alton Field was at an end. The second cheered and was cheered and, finally, followed by the onlookers, crossed back to their own field and started a fire. A battered and discarded football, bearing a leering countenance painted on with white pigment, was set atop the pyre and the scrubs joined hands and danced riotously around it. The fact that the football subsided into ruins with only a faint sigh, instead of expiring with a resonant bang, was accepted as an ill omen of Saturday’s game. But the omen did not appear to affect the second team spirits appreciably!

Friday was a day of rest, but there was an hour of signal drill in the gymnasium in the afternoon and a brief blackboard lecture by the coach in the evening. The latter was over by eight-fifteen, however, and afterwards Slim tried to persuade Leonard to accompany him to the final mass meeting in the auditorium. But Leonard had no mind for it, and Slim, realizing that his friend was having a mild attack of nerves, didn’t persist long. Going out, he stopped at the door to say: “I wouldn’t think too much about to-morrow, General; about the game, you know. Better get a good story and read. I’ll be back soon.”

Leonard was willing to follow the other’s advice, but it wasn’t so easy. And when he looked for the good story it wasn’t to be found. At length he decided to walk over to the library and get a book, although, since the auditorium was above the library, he had no intention of tarrying there. It was a nice night, just frostily cold and with a couple of trillions of white stars winking away in a blue-black sky. Even with his mackinaw unbuttoned he was quite comfortable. Long before he neared Memorial he could hear the singing.

“Cheer for the Gray-and-Gold!
Flag of the brave and bold – ”

A long, measured cheer followed the last strain, and then came silence. No, not silence, for Leonard was close to the building now and could hear at intervals a word or two. Some one was speaking. There was a sudden burst of applause, quickly suppressed. Then he was entering the library. The long room with its mellow warmth and its two rows of cone-shaped green shades was deserted save for the presence in a corner of a small freshman hunched absorbedly over a book. Leonard paused outside the door, suddenly distasteful of libraries and books. Then he turned back and went down the steps again. It was far nicer outdoors, he thought. He would cross the grass to River street and walk around by Academy and Meadow to the farther gate. Probably by the time he reached the room again Slim would have returned, and then he could go to bed. Not, however, that bed held any great appeal, for he was quite sure he wouldn’t be able to get to sleep for hours.

Short of the first street light, that on the corner, he descried a shape ahead of him. Some one else, it appeared, scorned indoors to-night. The shape was tall and broad, and Leonard suspected one of the faculty, perhaps Mr. Screven, and hoped that he could get by without having to say more than “Good evening.” He couldn’t imagine anything more deadly than being obliged to loll along and listen to Mr. Screven’s monotonous voice. But, a few paces behind now, he saw that the solitary pedestrian was not Mr. Screven, was not, indeed, a faculty at all, but Gordon Renneker.

CHAPTER XXI
RENNEKER EXPLAINS

Leonard was still assimilating that fact when Renneker turned and recognized him in the light of the corner lamp. “Hello, Grant,” said the big fellow. There seemed to Leonard a tone of almost friendliness in that greeting.

“Hello,” he answered. He wanted to add something else, something about the weather, but it wouldn’t come. It was the other who supplied the conventional observation.

“Corking night,” said Renneker. “It looks like a fine day for the game to-morrow.”

They were side by side now. Leonard wondered whether he should go on, maintaining his own pace, or slow down and suit his steps to Renneker’s. It was sort of embarrassing, he thought. He agreed about the weather and Renneker spoke again.

“I suppose you’re trying to walk them off,” he said.

“Walk them off?” echoed Leonard. There seemed nothing to do save fall in step with the other.

“Nerves,” explained Renneker. “Guess that’s what I’m doing myself.”

“Oh,” said Leonard a bit sheepishly. “Yes, I – I guess I am. At least, I suppose it’s nerves. Slim wanted me to go to the mass meeting, but I sort of hated being with that howling mob to-night.”

“Exactly.” They had reached the corner and with one consent turned now and went slowly along Academy street. “Funny how panicky you can get the night before a game,” mused Renneker.

Leonard laughed incredulously. “I can’t imagine you ever getting like that,” he said.

“I do, though,” replied the other in his even voice. “Always have. Of course, it’s absolute rot, because you know that just as soon as the whistle blows you’re going to be perfectly all right again.”

“Wish I knew that,” answered Leonard.

“You do, only you can’t remember it.” There was a silence then while Leonard tried to digest that statement. Then Renneker went on. “It’s rather absurd for me to be feeling jumpy to-night, for I’m not going to play. Must be just habit, I suppose. Queer.”

“I wish you were going to play,” said Leonard with such evident sincerity that Renneker looked down curiously at him.

“You do? I shouldn’t think you would.” He laughed shortly. “You might be out of it yourself if I did, Grant.”

“I know, but – well, it’s just sort of an accident with me, while you really belong, Renneker. I don’t suppose that sounds very clear.”

“Oh, yes. Well, I guess you’ll get on all right, Grant. If you do, it won’t matter much about me. Of course, I am disappointed, hang it! The whole silly thing is so – so – ” He seemed almost on the point of becoming agitated, which was perhaps why he stopped abruptly. After a moment he continued with a note of amusement. “Really, Grant, I don’t know why I’m chattering to you like this. I don’t believe we ever spoke before yesterday. It must be the nerves!”

“Oh, yes, we have,” answered Leonard. “Spoken, I mean. We came up from the station together that first day.”

“We did?” Renneker seemed to be searching his memory. “Oh, then you were that chap in the taxi. I’d forgotten.”

Leonard believed it. “I guess talking sort of does a fellow good,” he said after a moment. “When he’s jumpy, I mean.”

“I dare say.” There was silence again while they came to the main gate and passed it unheedingly. Across Academy street the light in Coach Cade’s front room was turned down. “I suppose he’s at the meeting,” said Renneker. “Sort of a decent chap, Cade.”

“Yes,” agreed Leonard, “I think so. All the fellows seem to like him.”

“Including me?” asked Renneker dryly.

“Why, I don’t know,” stammered Leonard. “Yes, I guess so. It wasn’t his fault, after all, was it? I mean I suppose he had to do it.”

“Do what?” asked Renneker, peering down.

“Why,” floundered Leonard, “I mean he had to – to do his duty. Stick to rules, you know. He wasn’t – ”

“Then you think it was Johnny who put me off?”

Leonard pulled up with a start. He wasn’t supposed to know a thing, and here he had been giving himself away. He sought for a way out. Renneker broke the silence.

“Look here, Grant, I don’t get this at all. Has Mr. Cade been talking?”

“No, not to me, at any rate.”

“Well, somebody has,” pursued Renneker grimly. “What have you heard, Grant? I wish you’d tell me.”

After an instant’s hesitation Leonard did so. Renneker listened in silence. “None of us have breathed a word of it,” concluded the speaker earnestly. “Only Carnochan, and he was sore because of that scrap.”

“Scrap be blowed,” said Renneker. “There wasn’t any scrap. Those fellows pushed into us and we had some words, merely joking. Then this fellow suddenly jumped at Reilly and tried to punch him and I stepped in the way and got the punch. I told him to behave and he jabbed at me again. Then I gave him one in the ribs. That’s all there was to it. As far as we were concerned, the whole thing was a joke, but that crazy Irishman lost his temper, I guess.”

“Yes,” said Leonard, “I guess, from what Johnny says, that he’s sort of hot-headed.”

“Decidedly! And his hot-headedness has played the dickens with me, Grant. Look here, are you in a hurry? Let’s sit down a minute. You’ve heard part of the story, and I’d like to tell you the rest of it. It’ll do me good to get it off my chest to some one, I fancy.”

They swung themselves to the top rail of the fence in the shadow between two lights and Renneker went on.

“This is confidential, Grant. I’d rather you didn’t say anything about it to any one, if you don’t mind. It might make worse trouble if it got around. Thanks. Now, let’s see. I think I’d better start at the beginning. I dare say you’ve heard that I got a bit of a reputation at Castle City High as a guard. We have pretty good teams there, and we generally manage to lick about every one we go up against. I don’t believe I was much better than half a dozen other chaps on our team, last year or the year before, but it sort of got around that I was good and the New York papers played me up. There’s a fellow named Cravath who lives in my town and he went to school here at Alton. Last summer he got after me. Told me about Alton and how much more of a chance there was for me here. I liked the high school well enough, but I’d always had an idea that I’d prefer a prep school. Besides, when it comes to going to college it’s a help if you go up from a well-known school like Alton. We haven’t much money; the family I mean. Father used to be very well off some six or eight years ago, and we grew up rather free-handed, us kids. Then he lost it. Quite a spectacular bust-up, Grant, but it wouldn’t interest you. What I’m getting at is that when it came to a question of coming here for two years the lot of us had to do some figuring.

“There are three of us; George, who is the oldest – two years older than me – Grace, who comes in between, and me. George was starting college this fall, and Grace is in school in New York. So there wasn’t an awful lot of money for me, you see. Oh, well, that hasn’t much to do with it. I’m making a beastly long story of this. Anyway, father managed to get hold of some money and said I could come up here, although he wasn’t very keen about it, I fancy. And I came. I knew that the reason Dick Cravath was so anxious to get me here was because I could play football, and I intended making good. But I haven’t done it. Oh, I’ve played, but I haven’t played the way I should, or the way I can, Grant. And I guess the main reason was because this thing’s been hanging over my head all the time. I’ve been waiting for it to break ever since the day I came up from New York.”

“Then,” exclaimed Leonard, “you knew that – that Johnny McGrath – But you couldn’t have!”

“No, all I knew was what I got from a pimply-faced fellow who sold papers and magazines on the train. I bought a magazine from him and he looked me over and winked. ‘Say, I know you, all right,’ he told me. ‘You’re Ralston. I saw you play in a game in New London.’ I told him he was wrong, but he wouldn’t have it that way. He told me all about the game. Even knew how much money the club there had paid me for playing first base. I let him talk, because I wanted to learn what he knew. When he told me I’d played against a team called the Crescents from this town I knew I was in for trouble. I was pretty sure that sooner or later some chap who had played with the Crescents would see me and recognize me. Well, I fancy that got on my mind, Grant. In fact, I know it did. I couldn’t seem to play the way I played last year. Of course, I might have turned around when I got here that day and gone back, after getting that story from the train-boy, but – oh, well, you always trust to the off chance. I don’t know now whether I’m sorry or not that I didn’t turn back. I’m out of football this year, but I like the school, and I’ve met some nice fellows. I – don’t know.” Renneker’s voice dwindled into silence.

Nine o’clock struck from a church tower. Leonard sat, none too comfortably, on the angular rail and puzzled. All through his narrative his companion had sounded an under note of resentment, as though Fate had dealt unjustly with him. Of course, it was hard luck to get dropped from the team as Renneker had, but after all he had no one to blame but himself. Leonard sought an answer to one of the features of the story that puzzled him.

“You didn’t know the Crescents came from here, then?” he asked. “I mean the day you played against them at New London.”

“What? Oh! No, I didn’t know that, Grant, because, you see, I wasn’t there.”

“You weren’t – where?” inquired Leonard blankly.

“At New London,” replied Renneker calmly.

“Then how – ” Leonard blinked at the other in the gloom. “But you’ve said you were! If you weren’t at New London, how did you play first base for the – the Maple Leaf nine?”

“I didn’t.”

Leonard laughed flatly. “I guess I’m stupid,” he said.

“I’ve got your promise that this goes no further?” asked Renneker. Leonard nodded vigorously. “All right. I didn’t play on that team, Grant. I couldn’t. I’m no good at all at baseball. That was my brother.”

“Your brother!” exclaimed Leonard.

“Yes. He looks like me, a whole lot like me, although if you saw us together you wouldn’t be fooled long. He’s two years older than I am, nearly three, and he’s an inch taller but not quite so heavy. His name is George Ralston Renneker, Ralston after my mother’s folks. That’s why I knew what was up when the train boy put that name on me. George is – oh, he’s all right, Grant, but he’s a nut. Sort of crazy about some things. We’ve always been great pals, but I’ve bawled him out a thousand times. He hasn’t any idea about the value of money and he keeps right on spending it just as if we still had it. When he gets flat and father won’t come across he goes off and plays baseball or hockey or anything to get some coin. He can do just about anything fairly well, you see. I suppose it isn’t always just the money, either, for he’s nuts on all sorts of sports, and he has to keep going at something or bust. Once he rode in a steeplechase near home and got thrown and had a couple of ribs broken. There wasn’t any money in it that time. He just did it for fun, for the adventure. I fancy he’d jump off the Woolworth Tower with an umbrella if there was enough money waiting him below! Sometimes he makes quite a lot of money. Once he drew down a hundred and fifty for a ten-round preliminary bout over in Philadelphia. He boxes rather better than he does anything, I fancy. He was the ‘Trenton Kid’ that night. Usually he goes under the name of George Ralston. He’s a nut, Grant.”

Leonard digested this remarkable information in silence for a moment. Then: “But if it wasn’t you, Renneker,” he exclaimed, “why did you let them drop you from the team? I don’t see that.”

“You will in a minute,” answered the other patiently. “George is at – well, never mind the college; it’s not more than a hundred miles from here. This is his first year. I dare say it will be his last, too, for he doesn’t stick long. He went to three schools. But I don’t want him to get in trouble if I can help it. He’s out for baseball and track already, and he will probably try hockey, too. If this thing got around he’d be dished, and it would mean a lot more to him than it did to me. Of course, you can say that I’m compounding a felony or something, but I don’t care if you do. I realize that George hasn’t any right to take part in athletics at his college, but that’s between him and his own conscience. I’m not going to be the one to queer him. I’ve known all along that when this thing broke it would be up to me to be the goat. Well, it did. And I am.”

Leonard shook his head. “It isn’t right, though, Renneker. It puts you out of football – and everything else, for that matter – this year and next. Why, even when you go up to college this thing will follow you, I guess!”

“Well, I’m rather expecting that by next fall I can tell the truth,” answered Renneker. “It isn’t likely that poor old George will last more than his freshman year without getting found out. If they have something else on him one more thing won’t matter, I guess. Anyway, I mean to keep in training on the chance of it.”

“Does he know about it?” asked Leonard presently. “That you’re taking the blame for this and have lost your place on the team?”

“Oh, no. What’s the use of worrying him about it? He’d be just idiot enough to give the snap away and spoil his own fun.”

“Serve him right,” said Leonard indignantly. “I think it’s a rotten shame that you’ve got to suffer for his – his misdoings!”

“Oh, well, it isn’t as bad as that. I guess I’ve groused a good deal, Grant, but, after all, I’m glad to do it for the old coot. He’d do anything in the world for me without batting an eye-lid. Besides, I’m feeling quite a lot better now that I’ve unburdened my mind to some one. Talk does help a lot sometimes, and I fancy Providence must have sent you forth to-night to hear my tale of woe. Much obliged, really, for being so patient, my dear chap.”

“Don’t be an ass,” begged Leonard. Half an hour before he would have gasped at the idea of inferring that Renneker was an ass, but just now it didn’t even occur to him. “I was glad to listen. Just the same, Renneker, you are acting wrong in this business. I suppose I can’t convince you – ”

“Afraid not, Grant.”

“ – but it’s a fact, just the same. Aside from everything else, you owe something to the team and the School, and you’re letting them both down when you do this thing. You – you’re endangering to-morrow’s game, and – ”

“I’ve thought of all that, Grant, and I don’t agree with you. My own people come before the School or the team – ”

“But, Great Scott,” interrupted Leonard impatiently, “in this case your own people, your brother, I mean, is in the wrong! You’re helping him to get away with something that isn’t – ”

“Absolutely, but when it is your brother that doesn’t count much with you.”

“It ought to,” muttered Leonard.

“Possibly, but it doesn’t. As for to-morrow’s game, Grant, I’m absolutely sincere when I say that I believe you will do just as well as I’d have done.”

“That’s nonsense,” Leonard protested.

“No, it isn’t, really. I haven’t been playing much of a game this fall. I’ve just managed to keep my position, and that’s about all. Johnny Cade has been on the point of dropping me into the subs lots of times. I’ve seen it and I’ve had to act haughty and pull a bluff to keep him from doing it.”

“That’s all right,” persisted the younger boy doggedly, “but you say yourself that was because this business was hanging over you. Well, it isn’t hanging over you any longer, and there’s no reason why you shouldn’t play to-morrow as well as you’ve ever played. Now, isn’t that so?”