“Foul!” announced the referee. “Basket void. Free shot for the Sophs.”
Thatcher, astonished at the sudden turn of the incident, stood still under the basket for a moment while Hoffman, the Sophomore captain, swept down and gathered in the ball to take it to the other end of the court for the free shot to which the foul entitled him. Suddenly the Freshman forward snapped into angry action.
“Here! Wait! It’s a fake, Mr. Thomas. I didn’t trip him. He fell purposely to make it look like a foul. It was a trick, I tell you. I didn’t touch him.”
“He did. He lies. He tripped me!” yelled Gould, getting to his feet.
Thatcher looked at him coldly, and with the utmost self possession spoke to him.
“You have the effrontery to stand there and say that, Gould, when you know it isn’t true! I’m surprised at your sportsmanship.”
Gould’s face grew livid under the sting of the reproach.
“You lie,” he snorted, “you know you tripped me. Didn’t he, Mr. Thomas?”
The referee, surprised himself at the turn of events, confessed: