“Why, Bonner is looking to start the Mount Morris game with two of you three fellows, don’t you savvy? Now the question is, which two? Bert and George? Bert and you? George and you? He can’t tell yet, and you can see that he’s doing a lot of thinking. Well, Bert sees that and he’s thinking too. Just at present you and he are about an even choice. Vail will probably come around all right and be sure of his position, but you and Bert will have to fight it out for the other place. That’s the way it looks to me, Duke. And that, I guess, is what’s worrying Bert. When the season began he was the only possibility for left half. Then he got up in the air about something, played like the dickens, got a busted rib because he was thinking of something else instead of playing the game, went off on his work――natural enough after a week or ten days’ lay-off――and now doesn’t seem able to come back. It’s got on his nerves, I suppose. And he’s taking it out on you. He has a punk temper, anyway. And then, too, you’ve suddenly sprung up as a rival. And Bert resents it. Hasn’t any right to, but I guess he does, because I know Bert pretty well.” “I wish I’d never gone in for football,” sighed Hugh after a moment’s silence. “I never thought for a minute, you know, that――that anything like this would come up. What’s to be done?” “Done? Nothing’s to be done. Don’t be a chump. Bert will get over his grouch tomorrow and then you and he will fight it out, just as lots of other fellows have, and the best man will win. Or, anyway, the one who promises to be the more useful a week from Saturday will win. It’s up to Bonner, you know.” “But I thought that Bert was absolutely certain,” faltered Hugh. Pop shrugged his big shoulders. “So he was until a while back. He started off finely. There isn’t a better half-back on a prep school team today than Bert Winslow when he’s playing right. But he hasn’t been playing right for nearly a month. Well, three weeks, anyway. What a fellow has done doesn’t count much. It’s what he’s doing and can do. Frankly, Duke, if you keep on getting a little better every day, as you’ve been doing, you’ll play against Mount Morris as sure as I’m a foot high; perhaps not all through, but half the game, anyway. You take my advice and quit worrying about things. Just put everything out of your mind but playing half and try like the dickens!” “I don’t know that I want to do that, though, if I’m crowding Bert out and――――” “Piffle! If you don’t crowd him out Jack Zanetti will, or Billy Siedhof, unless he gets a move on and fights for his place. Nick and I were talking about it last night and Nick wanted me to give Bert a hint. But what’s the use? He knows it as well as I do. He’d only tell me to mind my own business. Quite right, too. So I’m going to.” “Then you think I ought to keep on?”