“Wh-what do you mean?” the quarter back faltered weakly.
“Just what I say,” retorted Dick.
He threw one arm over Kenny’s shoulder and smiled.
“You’re an old bluff!” he repeated. “There wasn’t an earthly thing the matter with you out there. You stumbled on purpose to give Don the ball and let him make the goal. It was a corking thing to do, Jack, and not one fellow in a thousand could have brought himself to it. Didn’t you start out with the idea of making it yourself?”
Kenny nodded slowly.
“Yes,” he said, in a low tone.
“But you saw your chance, and you’ll never regret it,” Dick went on softly. “You’ve evened up the score with Tempest now, and the fellows will never have a chance to say that you were right and he was wrong. It was generous, Jack, and I’m proud of you.”
A keen sense of pleasure and satisfaction thrilled Kenny to the heart. Suddenly he looked anxiously at Merriwell.
“You won’t tell Don?” he questioned hastily.
“Not I!” laughed Dick.