“What did he say?” all four of the youngsters asked, in one breath.
“He said a good many things,” Merry answered, “but about the bitterest dose I had to swallow was what he said about the football game with Gold Hill. It’s all off, fellows.”
“All off?” echoed Handy, as though he scarcely believed his ears. “What has a little row with Lenning got to do with that?”
“I guess the colonel thinks we’re a lot of plug-uglies and might turn the game into a Donnybrook fair. Jode has pumped him full, and Lamson, Parkman, and Hummer have backed Jode up in everything. The colonel, of course, is taking their word for it all. He didn’t tell me flatly that I lied, although he might as well have done so. Lenning has made him think, Clan, that you and I went over to Camp Hawtrey just to pick a row.”
“Of course,” said Clancy sardonically, “what else could you expect? How did Jode get around the dynamite cartridge?”
“By saying there wasn’t any such thing.”
“All the colonel has got to do, Chip, is to look at the hole in the ground where it went off.”
“Funny thing about it is,” Merry went on, “the colonel blames Darrel, he thinks Curly goaded us on to pick a row with Lenning.”
That brought a laugh, all the lads wondering how such a foolish notion could be entertained by Hawtrey for a single moment. Lenning, they agreed, must have contrived to give the colonel that impression.
“I’m going down the gulch to talk with Darrel,” said Frank. “If I were you, Handy, I wouldn’t say anything to the boys about the colonel’s calling the football game off. There’s a chance that Mr. Bradlaugh may be able to smooth over the differences, so that the game will be played according to schedule. Want to ride with me, Pink, you and Clan?”