“Can you? Perhaps you can. Yes, I’m sure you can. But the point is, Burton, that you don’t! And I’m bound to judge you by performance, my boy. Perhaps you think it’s a low-down trick to corner you when you’re feeling punk and say this sort of thing, but it’s just because you are feeling punk that I’m doing it.” Mr. Cade smiled. “You know, Burton, if you hadn’t had a crack on the head you’d never have let me say this; you’d have flung off in a temper long ago; and I’ve had it on my mind for some weeks and I consider that I’ve got it coming to me to get rid of it. Now, if it isn’t unreasonable to ask, Burton, what’s the answer to the whole business? Have you lost your interest in football, in the Team? Are you disgruntled because you didn’t make the captaincy? I certainly expected you to, and I’ll say frankly that I was disappointed that you didn’t. Or have you taken a personal dislike to me as a coach? There’s some explanation, and I’m curious to know what it is.” After a moment Chick answered dispiritedly: “I don’t know, sir. I--maybe if my head didn’t ache-- Anyway, it’s nothing to do with you, Mr. Cade. I suppose I did get grouchy about not getting the captaincy, but I don’t believe--” Chick’s voice trailed off tiredly. “I think I can answer that better, sir,” said Bert. “He was peeved about the captaincy first, and then he got hold of something that interested him more than football, and, one way and another, he just sort of lost his--his hold. I’m sure he meant to carry on, Mr. Cade, but he let this other thing take up his time and his thought. That’s true, isn’t it, Chick?” “I suppose so. Hang it, I didn’t really mean to mess things up so, Mr. Cade. Somehow I got started wrong this season. I--I’m might sorry. I didn’t meant to let you down, sir. Or make things harder for you. I--it’s like Bert says; I got interested in something else.” “Well, I’m glad to know you didn’t mean it, Burton. I’m glad that this other interest explains it. Personally, I couldn’t find pool of more interest than football, but we’re not all alike.” Perhaps he saw Chick’s look of surprise, for he went on in explanation. “You see, I’ve got a friend in town who works on the Alton paper. Perhaps you know him; Joe Manter. Joe drops in here quite frequently and he brings me the news. About a month or so ago he asked about you. He had been seeing you in Mooney’s billiard place pretty frequently, and sometimes quite late. Joe thought I ought to know that you weren’t keeping hours. I told him I already knew it, as I did; or, at least, as I suspected. You’ll remember that we met one evening on the street about the time you should have been in bed.” “Yes, sir,” said Chick. “I’ve been playing pool a good deal at Mooney’s and I’ve been getting back to school pretty late; sometimes nearly eleven. I might as well tell the truth, sir.” “Eleven!” gasped Bert. “How the dickens did you ever get by Peg?” “I don’t know. Usually he was half asleep when I passed his door.”