“I know a way. I warned you a week ago that I didn’t intend to see the Team beaten, when it doesn’t need to be, by playing second-raters. You tell Chick for me that I’m out to get him. I don’t want to tell tales, but when it’s a duty--” “Tommy, you’re sickening,” said Bert. “You’ve got it in for Chick for no reason at all and you’re making an ass of yourself about it. You take my advice and shut up, or--” “I have not got it in for Chick,” declared Tommy emphatically. “Maybe I don’t like him much, but that’s got nothing to do with this. This is something between me and--and my conscience! I--I’ve got feelings. Just because I can’t play football, or much of anything, fellows think I don’t know about such things. I’m just a joke because I’m sort of stumpy and have boils on my neck! Well, I’ve got more--more patriotism than most of ’em, doggone ’em!” Tommy actually choked and a tear trickled from the corner of one eye. “I’m for the School and the Team, Bert, and I want to see Kenly everlastingly licked. And that’s why I say Johnny hasn’t any right to take risks by playing Chick Burton or any other fellow who isn’t a topnotcher. If he wants to put Chick in for a little while after the game’s cinched, all right. I’m not kicking about that. But Chick’s just soldiered all season, and you know it, and Johnny knows it, and what he’s been doing the last two or three days can’t make up for a whole two months of rotten playing!” “Well, for Heaven’s sake!” gasped Bert. “Shut up!” said Tommy, blinking hard. “I tell you I’ve got feelings! And that’s why I’m going to tell Johnny what I know about Chick, even if it is low-down. I’m thinking about the Team, I tell you, and Chick and Johnny--and you, too--can go to the dickens!” “What do you know about Chick?” demanded Bert, not certain whether he wanted to laugh or get mad. “I know that he hasn’t been keeping hours more than a third of the time. You said Mooney was a friend of Chick’s in the village. Well, I found out about Mooney’s, and I’ve seen Chick shooting pool there many a night long after ten o’clock. And that’s why he’s been so rotten all season. One reason, anyway. I’ve got as much interest in the Football Team as any one else, and I’m not going to see a fellow who won’t even keep in training get placed on--” “Johnny knows all about that, Tommy,” interrupted Bert, “and so you can save your breath.” “Yes, he does! That’s likely, isn’t it?” “It’s true nevertheless. He’s known it all the season. Don’t go and tell tales when there’s nothing to be gained by it, Tommy.” “I don’t believe it! He’s your chum and you’re just trying to save him. But you can’t fool me like that, Bert. I’ve warned you, mind! You tell Chick what I say, because I don’t want to do him dirt.” “Sounds like it,” laughed Bert. “What do you call it then?”