“Oh, I don’t know. And, anyhow, that’s got nothing to do with it. I never imagined that I’d get in your way, Bert. If I had I’d never have gone in for the silly game. Now look what’s happened!” “Well, what has happened? I’m out and you’re in because you deserve to be. Besides, there’s another year coming, isn’t there? Football doesn’t stop after Saturday, you know.” “That’s taking it mighty well,” said Hugh warmly. “But――just the same I don’t like it. It makes me feel an awful rotter, an out-and-out rotter, old chap! If there was any way to――to――to back out――――” “Don’t be a chump! There isn’t, and if there was you’d have no right――――” “Why not? I know there isn’t, of course, but I don’t see why I shouldn’t have the say about playing. Of course I can’t go to Mr. Bonner and say ‘Look here, you know, I’ve changed my silly mind and don’t think I’ll play Saturday.’ That wouldn’t do, of course. But, just the same, it’s tommyrot to say I haven’t the right, you know.” “You haven’t,” declared Bert decidedly. “The team needs you and it’s up to you to do your level best.” “My level best is no better than yours, though; not so good, in fact. How do you know that I won’t have stage-fright Saturday and drop the ball or――or try to swallow it? You can’t make me believe that if something happened so I couldn’t play you wouldn’t do just as well and probably better than I would!” “I don’t know what I’d do,” answered Bert thoughtfully. “Yes, I do, though, old man. I’ve got a perfectly magnificent hunch that I’d play good ball if I got a chance. But that’s got nothing to do with it. I shan’t have the chance unless Bonner puts me in for a little while at the end. He probably will, you know; after we’ve got the thing cinched or we’re so far behind that nothing matters!” “Well, there it is, then!” said Hugh triumphantly. “You _know_ what you can do and I don’t! What I say is――――” Bert laughed. “Oh, you dry up and go to sleep, Hugh. It’s all right, old man. I did act like a beast, and I’m sorry, and I beg your pardon. And that’s all of that, I guess. For the rest of it, I hope you’ll play a rattling good game, Hugh, and if I’m to substitute you I hope I won’t get in at all. Good night!” “Well, but――now hold on, old dear! I want to tell you――――” “Not tonight. It’s after eleven. Go to sleep.” Hugh grunted as he heard the bed creak in the other room. Then he thumped his pillow and settled down again. “Just the same,” he murmured, “it’s piffling poppycock! That’s just what it is, piffling poppycock!” CHAPTER XXIV HUGH GOES TO THE VILLAGE