His nerves were a little on edge from the mental strain and worry he had been under for the past few weeks, and probably his voice was sharper and more domineering than he realized. At all events, it was the last straw. Kenny straightened up and turned slowly around to face the captain. His face was a little pale and his lips firmly set. “I said, ‘Hang you and your old crisscross,’” he returned deliberately. “We’ve wasted three-quarters of an hour on it already this afternoon, and the fellows couldn’t get it any smoother if they tried.” Tempest’s face grew hard and set. “Who’s running this team, Kenny?” he demanded. “You or I?” “You seem to be making a pretty good stab at running the team and everybody on it!” the quarter back burst out, throwing caution to the winds. “You make me sick with your eternal butting in. You don’t give a fellow credit for a grain of sense. It’s ‘Kenny do this, Kenny do that,’ the whole enduring time. You might think I was a machine that wouldn’t work until you turned the crank. How do you expect to make out in the game, I’d like to know? You’ll have to keep your mouth shut then. If you don’t think I’m good enough for the job, why in thunder don’t you throw me out and take it yourself? But no, that wouldn’t do. The trouble with you, Don Tempest, is that you want to run the whole lot of us as if we were a flock of sheep without any ideas of our own, and a nice mess you’ll make of it. Look at the Princeton game! I’ve stood about all of your domineering ways I’m going to for one afternoon. You can turn to and be quarter yourself, and see how you like it!” Without waiting for a reply, he turned and started toward the track house at a rapid stride. For a moment not a sound broke the stillness. Tempest glared after the retreating Kenny as if he would liked to throttle him. The other members of the team stood silent, shifting from one foot to the other, waiting for the explosion with mixed expressions. Some seemed rather pleased than otherwise at the turn things had taken, while others, realizing the gravity of the situation, looked serious. “You blamed little runt!” exploded Tempest as soon as he got his breath. “If I don’t——” He broke off abruptly as Dick Merriwell stepped quickly to his side and touched his arm warningly. A few swift, whispered words passed between the two. Dick seemed to be urging something to which the captain at length reluctantly agreed. “That’ll do for to-day,” he said shortly, his eyes sweeping over the faces of the waiting men. “Three o’clock to-morrow, sharp!” The group instantly melted away, most of the men being eager to get out of earshot to talk over this new, and not altogether unexpected, development. Dick, Tempest, and the coaches remained behind. “It’s a case of insubordination, pure and simple!” the captain burst out. “He’ll have to go!” There was no word of acquiescence from the men around him, and Tempest flashed a swift glance of surprise at their serious faces.