"Trying to make things right now, aren't you?" taunted Detective Greene. "But you can't explain away that crack you took at Coach Edward just as you were leaving."
"What crack was that?"
"'Here's hoping you get trimmed by Pomeroy!'" Mack flinched. He had been sincerely trying to straighten matters up but the detectives did not appear to be giving him credit.
"I was sore when I left," said Grinnell's substitute back. "I shouldn't have said that. I didn't really mean it."
"You didn't mean it, eh?... Isn't it a fact, when you left Coach Edward's office you were practically positive you wouldn't get a chance to play against Pomeroy?"
He hesitated. "Yes, sir," he finally granted.
"And," persisted Detective Pierce, "isn't it a fact, if you couldn't get a chance to play, you would rather have seen your brother's team win?"
"No!" cried Mack, rising from his chair.
"Just a minute, son!" snapped Detective Pierce, pushing Mack down. "Wasn't that remark you made, leaving Coach Edward's office, actually a threat?"
Mack stared at the burly figure in front of him in amazement. This interview was taking on the proportions of a third degree.