But he was not so much alone as he thought.
"Who says you're a traitor?" demanded a voice solicitously.
In surprise, Fred turned quickly.
"Alice—you here?" he gasped. "I—I must have been thinking out loud. I supposed every one was in class."
"I understand," said the girl, "and I'm sorry. Oh, so sorry, for you, Fred. But you mustn't mind what the others say. They don't mean anything—really. They're just thoughtless. They've never had any trouble or—or sorrow—and so they don't realize. I think your action, in giving the captaincy to my brother, was simply fine. Everybody's saying so. Indeed, you're quite the hero of the school."
But the girl's attempt at merry raillery of her schoolmate failed.
"You would never say that if you'd heard what the fellows said when I told them I couldn't play this year," returned Fred bitterly. "It's hard enough, goodness knows, to give up the team. But when they call you a traitor, it's almost more than a fellow can stand."
"Never mind, they only said it in the bitterness of their disappointment at your decision. When they have had time to think it over, they'll see the matter in its true light."
"I wish I could think so."
"Well, you can—and must. It's nice to be a football star, of course, but there are much finer things in life."