“The fellow is a bit flattered at having his opinion consulted. He does what you want willingly, and half the time he thinks that it is his own idea. Everybody is happy and the goose hangs high. Of course, you haven’t realized it, but really, Don, you’ve been pretty sharp and domineering for the past two weeks. I have a notion that the big game has got on your nerves a trifle, and that, in your anxiety to prepare against any contingency, you’ve gone at the fellows in a way which has made others than Jack Kenny sore.” He stopped, and for a time no one spoke. Then Bill Fullerton nodded his head emphatically. “That’s the talk!” he said decidedly. “Lead ’em, don’t try to drive ’em, and you get better results. Let me do the driving when it is necessary.” Tempest’s face was a study. Chagrin and anger struggled with a dawning realization that Merriwell had spoken the truth. He was a fellow who hated to be given advice, but he was also fair-minded enough to know that Dick was not the sort who would speak as he had unless there was a great need for it. “I suppose you’re right, Merriwell,” he said slowly, at length. “A fellow looking on can get a much better idea of the real state of affairs than one who is taking part in them. Perhaps I have been too sharp and quick in the way I’ve handled the boys, but, somehow, it isn’t my way to get around a man in the manner you suggest. If I’m running the team, well and good. But if the fellows begin to question my orders, it’s about time I stepped out.” “Nonsense!” Merriwell exclaimed. “You don’t get what I mean at all. I hadn’t the slightest notion of your submitting to dictation from anybody in your management. But there are more methods than one of getting your way, and I think you’ll find that a little persuasion will go considerably farther than downright bullyragging. You don’t mean it that way, of course, but that’s how it appears to some of the men. Don’t let’s have any more talk about your stepping out. Nobody’s going to do that. This thing has got to be patched up or we’ll lose the game on Saturday, the surest thing you know. All you’ve got to do is to take things a little easier. Don’t try to run the whole team. It’s a wonder you’re not a wreck now, the way you’ve tried to take everything on your shoulders.” “But I can’t help worrying about things,” Tempest protested. “I can’t help seeing where they don’t go right, and trying my best to remedy them.” “You try too hard,” Dick retorted. “If you think it over, you’ll realize that Kenny’s got brains enough to come out all right if he’s let alone. You’re not going to try any more new stunts, and the boys have got the others down to a point where their work couldn’t be very much improved on. At least, try my plan, Don. Let Jack have his own way for a day or so, and see if I’m not right—see if he doesn’t show results. He’s got to play the game practically alone on Saturday. And it’s only fair that he have his chance for the rest of the week.”