“Never said what?”
“You haven’t heard the gossip at the academy. I didn’t mean for you to hear it. They say this Merriwell boasted of cutting me out with you. They said he told his friends you were glad to be rid of me—you were tired of me. He told them you said so yourself. It was a lie, Doris?”
Her face was a trifle pale now, but she restrained herself and demanded:
“So that was the reason for your doing as you did to-day, Hal? Was that all the reason?”
“No; he said more. He said that he was tired of you. That you couldn’t hold a candle to June Arlington, and he wished to be rid of you. When I heard it I would have fought him, but the one who told me pledged me to secrecy. I have betrayed the secret now to you. I was looking for some excuse to pick up trouble with Merriwell—something that would not involve you. I was ready to do anything to quarrel with him without bringing you into trouble. I fancied he would be furious with me to-day and would take me out of the game. I didn’t believe he would leave me in long enough, after seeing me play as I did, to let me lose the game. That would have given me the excuse I sought.”
After a moment’s silence Doris said:
“Hal, I believe you made a serious mistake. Who told you that?”
“I can’t tell.”
“Can’t you tell me?”
“No, not even you, Doris, for I gave my promise I would never breathe the person’s name.”