“Because he did a very shabby thing not long ago,” was the reply.
He could stand it no longer. He glanced round at the speakers more in sorrow than in anger, and then, instead of returning to the starting-point, he turned hastily aside, and, declining the contest, plunged into the thickest of the crowd. “Evson’s giving it up. What a pity!” said several boys.
“No wonder he’s giving it up,” said Power indignantly, “after the way you fellows treat him. Never mind them, Walter,” he said, taking him by the arm; “they will be ashamed of themselves by and by.”
“You’re not going to withdraw, Evson?” asked one of the chief athletes, in a kind tone.
“Yes,” said Walter, retiring still farther to hide himself amid the crowd.
“Nonsense!” said Henderson, who had heard the answer; “come, Walter, it’ll spoil all the fun if you don’t go on.”
“I can’t, Flip,” said Walter, turning aside, and hastily brushing away the tears which would come into his eyes.
“Do, Walter, they all wish it,” whispered Henderson; “be brave, and get the prize in spite of all; here’s Paton coming round; I’m sure it’s to cheer you up.”
“Very well, Flip, I will, if it pleases you; but it’s rather hard,” he said, fairly bursting into tears. “Remember, it’s only for your sake I do it, Flip.”
“Go on, Walter; don’t give way,” said Mr Paton aloud, in his gentlest and most encouraging voice, as the boy hastily re-entered the arena, and took his place.