So Don walked on and Leon came up later. Knowing Bentley as he did, it was rather surprising that the doctor’s son permitted himself to be deceived by the fellow; but he was ready to believe almost anything bad of Renwood, which, with his hatred and prejudice, blinded his sense of perception.
Renwood had not arrived at the academy and did not appear till a few moments before the beginning of the morning session, giving him no opportunity to speak with Scott, in case he desired to do so. That noon, however, the coach of the eleven was talking with Chatterton beneath one of the large oaks near the entrance to the grounds, when Don came through the gate. Perceiving Scott, Dolph immediately advanced toward him, calling:
“I’d like to speak with you, Scott, if you’ll wait a minute. We can talk here without being overheard by the fellows up by the steps.”
“I have nothing to say to you that I’m not willing anybody should hear,” declared Don, holding himself in check, for Leon’s warning had informed him what was coming, and he was glad of the opportunity to again express himself to this fellow whom he hated with all the intensity of his nature.
“Still, it’s better to talk the matter over out here away from the others,” said Dolph, rather nervously, his manner seeming to betray to the boy with the searching eyes a self-consciousness of guilt. “I am in hopes we can come to an understanding.”
Don said nothing, but continued to watch Renwood’s face.
“There is something about me,” Dolph continued, seeming troubled to find words to express himself, “that caused you to take a strong dislike to me almost the first time you saw me. I knew it, for you are not a chap to conceal your feelings. I have some pride and spirit of my own, and I’m not the kind of a fellow to try to curry favor with those who dislike me, for which reason I had very little to do with you till the football team was organized, and I was selected as coach. Then it became necessary for me to have some dealings with you. One thing I want to claim right here is, that I never tried to injure you in any way.”
There was curling scorn in the movement of Don’s lips, but he continued silent, apparently waiting with some impatience for Renwood to finish. Dolph saw and understood the expression on the face of his enemy, but he pretended to take no note of it, hurrying on with scarcely a break:
“When Sterndale was making up the team, I suggested that you be tried in the position you were given, one of the most prominent and difficult places on an eleven. I had observed that you could run like a deer, could dodge and handle yourself gracefully, and I fancied you possessed, or could develop, other requirements that would make you a first-class man at half. I made one mistake,” the coach confessed, “for, in instructing the team, I did not take into consideration the fact that you might be easily angered, so that you would quit the eleven and refuse to come back. I don’t think I quite understood you in that respect. Anyhow, you got mad with me, which has raised hob with everything. I used you just exactly the same as I did others on the team, but you seemed to think I had some spite against you. You were wrong, Scott; I had nothing in the world against you.”
“By that,” said Don, with a sneer, “I presume you infer that I was wholly to blame for everything that occurred? When you jumped on me and made your insulting remarks to me before the eleven and the whole crowd of spectators, I had no right to resent it! I should have curled up and taken it, like a meaching cur! But I’m not that kind of a huckleberry! I don’t belong to the whipped-cur breed, Mr. Dolph Renwood!”