He was scowling fiercely, but the captain of the eleven, regardless of his threatening manner, sharply asked:
“Where did you go directly after leaving this room last night, Scott?”
“I don’t know that it’s any of your business,” retorted Don, “but I don’t mind telling you. I went home.”
“Did you remain there?”
A sudden sensation of danger assailed Don, and his eyes swiftly scanned the faces of Sterndale and his companions. He discovered that he was being regarded with cold scorn, and an intimation of their thoughts fell upon him.
“Look here, Sterndale,” he said, quickly, turning to the captain, “if you have anything to say to me, just say it at once, without beating round the bush. What are you driving at?”
From behind the door the captain took down three football suits that had been cut and slashed into ribbons, and he kicked out before Don the remains of a football which had been destroyed in a similar manner.
“Do you know anything about this job?” asked Dick, sternly and accusingly.
“Yes!”
They were somewhat surprised by Don’s answer, and Chatterton whispered to Mayfair: