For a moment the eyes of Dick and Hal met, and in that glance flared the dislike each felt for the other.
"I was given a chance," said Hal, with a slight sneer. "I presume you saw just what it amounted to. Every effort was made to show me up as a dumb one. That’s why I was given a chance. But I’m not so thick as I’m taken for. I can see through some things."
To his further anger, Merriwell seemed to pay no attention at all to these words.
"Why, what do you mean?" asked Zona, surprised. "Frank Merriwell gave you lots of attention, and he wouldn’t have done that if he hadn’t thought——"
"That it was a good way to show how much I didn’t know about the game," cut in Hal. "He was not the only one who did everything possible to make me look like a stiff."
He had intended for Dick to resent this, and he was not disappointed in the result.
"My brother was foolish to give you any attention whatever, Mr. Darrell!" flashed young Merriwell hotly. "He might have known you would not appreciate it!"
"I appreciated it for just what it was worth," said Hal, holding his hot temper in check. "Mr. Frank Merriwell was tipped to show me up, and he did as directed. You do not like me, Merriwell, and for that reason you do not wish me on the eleven. Well, as your brother is the boss, I presume I’ll have to keep off and be satisfied."
"I confess that I do not like you, Mr. Darrell," said Dick, with icy politeness; "but I think so little of you that, had you not made such a ridiculous charge against me, I’d never thought of using my influence in any manner concerning you. Now, however, I am satisfied that you would be a very poor man for the team, and, if I’m asked, I shall not hesitate to say so."
"I understand the whole game! You don’t have to make any bluff with me. You’ll tell your brother to keep me off the team in case there is any hope of my making it, and I’ll be kept off. I call that crooked and low!"