Dick told the other fellows plainly and without any gilding, his conversation with Acton, and they pressed him to go and see Phil personally; so Dick marched heavily to Bourne's quarters.
"Sorry, Worcester, but I cannot explain anything. Not even to you. But I do hope you'll come into the eleven."
Dick said shortly, "I think I shall, for Biffen's deserves the other cap, though the right fellow isn't getting it. By the way, Bourne, you'll not be very sweet to the school generally after this. They—the fellows—to a man, are no end cut up over Acton's treatment."
"I supposed they would be. I knew it would be so."
"Look here, Phil. You always did the square thing. Let us have the reason for this," said Dick, earnestly.
"Sorry, Worcester, I can't."
"Good night, then."
"Good night."
The rage and consternation of the Biffenites when they found that Bourne was immovable in his decision can be imagined. Some were inclined to take the matter up to Corker's throne, but they were a miserable minority.
"Let Corker have a finger in our own private affairs!" said Dick, with intense disgust. "What next, gentlemen? We won't be able to blow our own noses without his permission. Keep the masters out of this, whatever we do. Can't we see the thing through ourselves? I vote we try, anyhow."