Hollister saw it only too clearly. He realized perfectly the truth of Merriwell’s words. He knew quite well that if he were going to play in a game he would be thinking for days beforehand about it. Unconsciously his mind would wander and he would cease giving the proper attention to his books. Bitterly he regretted the moment when he first began to let things slide. If he had only not let his enthusiasm for the game get the better of him he would be all right now.
And suddenly into his mind came the thought of Jarvis Blake and his treachery. The fellow would triumph now and would very likely get his place on the varsity. He could not bear the idea.
“If I quit the team Blake will be put on,” he said aloud. “I couldn’t stand that, Dick. It’s what he’s been after right along. Last night—I heard——”
A gleam of combat came into Merriwell’s eyes and his chin squared.
“I thought so,” he said emphatically. “I had a notion that was his game. But it won’t work if I can put a spoke in his wheel. There are a couple of other subs who are as good as he is. I rather think one of them will take your place.”
“If you could only work it, Dick!” Hollister said eagerly. “Of course, I’m not trying to blame him for what’s happened. That’s all up to me. But I do know that he did his best to have me dropped, and if he got my place in the line I couldn’t stand it.”
“Don’t worry,” Merriwell said quickly. “I don’t think he will.”
He paused and looked Hollister keenly in the eyes.
“Well,” he said slowly, “have you made up your mind?”
Still Bob wavered, unwilling to take the step which, deep down in his heart, he knew would have to come.