“Oh, you know I didn’t play like that just because I was out of practice. See here, Merriwell, I am disgusted with myself! You’re a white man, and I feel like a cur!”
“That’s a bad way to feel, Darrell,” said Dick.
“But that’s just the way I do feel. You must know that it is a blamed hard thing for me to come here and tell you this, but I have thought it all over, and I made up my mind to do it, no matter how hard it was. Merriwell, I was sore on you Saturday. I can’t explain just why, but I was dead sore. I didn’t expect to stay in that game long enough to lose it for you. I thought you would take me out. Frankly and squarely, I was looking for trouble. Had you put me out of the game it would have given me the excuse I sought.”
“I am sorry to hear you say this, Darrell. Why should you have to pick up trouble with me? There was a time when we did not pull together very well, but I fancied that time was passed.”
“So did I.”
“But now——”
“I tell you I can’t explain it, for certain reasons,” said Hal; “but I frankly confess I acted the part of a cheap duffer. I am thoroughly ashamed of myself, and that’s why I came to you to ask your pardon. But for that shower I would have lost the game for Fardale. And to-day I’d be in the depths of remorse. I am conscience-stricken as it is. What can they think of me? I know the fellows are not all fools. They must have seen through my wretched work. I am certain they did, for some of them have given me the scornful eye. They have no confidence in me. You can have no confidence in me.”
Dick arose and advanced to Hal’s side. The latter was sitting now, with his elbows on the table and his head on his hand.
“You’re mistaken, old man,” said Dick gently. “I still have confidence in you.”
Darrell looked up quickly.