“Somebody you and I love—I don’t think.”
“Renwood?”
“Sure thing.”
To Bentley’s surprise, his companion sat down, a sudden look of doubt and perplexity dawning on his face and growing swiftly.
“What reason have you to think Renwood would do such a thing?” questioned Don. “What could be his object?”
“I’ve heard something to-day that’s given me an idea. Renwood is acquainted with Winston, the Harvard man, who is coaching Highland.”
“What of that?”
“I’ve thought all the time that Renwood didn’t care a snap whether Rockspur won or not, and now I’ll bet my life he’s working to have us lose to them.”
“But I fail to see his object,” declared Don. “Why should he want Rockspur to lose?”
“That may come out later. If he is a particular friend of this Winston, he may be playing into Winston’s hands. Perhaps Winston wants to win a reputation as a coach; perhaps he’s expecting to bet money on the game; perhaps a lot of things. Anyhow, I’ll bet my pile that Renwood and Winston have it put up between them to down Rockspur.”