"Forrest did it. A new man is going to be tried at full-back—Rob Marline. Forrest is desperate. He says the team is broken all to pieces, and stands a poor show with either Harvard or Princeton. This will be a dismal season for Old Yale."
Frank turned pale and seemed to stagger a bit, as if he had been struck. It was a shock for him to know that Yale was in danger. He had supposed she was all right and everything was running well.
"We did not make the showing against the Indians that we should have made, although we beat them," Halliday went on. "But for my lucky run, we might have been beaten."
"I didn't know——" began Frank, falteringly.
Ben made a fierce gesture.
"What's the matter with you Merriwell?" he savagely cried. "Didn't know? You should know! You are the fellow of us all who should know. You have changed, and it has not been for the better. I tell you we stand a slim show with Harvard and Princeton, and you are needed just as you were needed at the tug of war. That being the case, you have no right to shut yourself up here in your room and plug away, seeming to take no interest in anything but your studies and recitations. You have been the most popular man in college, but your popularity is on the wane. I'll tell you why, if you want to know."
Frank was still whiter, if possible. Was this Halliday talking to him in such a manner—Halliday, who had ever seemed to stand in awe of him? It was plain enough that Ben was giving him a "call down," but what shook Merry the most was the fact that he began to feel that it was merited.
"I should like to know," he said, slowly.
Ben could not tell what effect his words might have on Frank, but he was reckless, and he did not care.
"You can punch my head, if you want to," he said, "but I am going to talk plain. Don't seem to be anybody else who dares to talk to you. They kick and growl and say things behind your back, but they don't come right at you with what they want to say. They are saying that you are afraid to play on the eleven this year."