Carroll looked up languidly, but there was a keen glance in his eyes, and a note of significance in his voice, as he answered, “No, sir, I don’t think him a careless player, Mr. Morris.”
“And yet he fumbled at a most inopportune time,” suggested Morris, musingly.
Carroll flung his book a little impatiently on the table, and looked the older man frankly in the eyes. “Mr. Morris,” he exclaimed, with every trace of indifference gone, “I am going to tell you in strict confidence what I know about the game. It is scarcely a decent thing for me to tell it, but then I saw it.”
“Yes, yes,” Morris murmured, encouragingly.
“I saw Arthur Chapin knock the ball out of Tony’s arms just as they crossed the line and the Boxford quarter tackled him. I believe he did it on purpose. Now, I know,” he went on quickly, “that it is a terrible accusation to make against a fellow even in confidence to you; but that’s what happened, and I don’t know what I ought to do about it. It’s incredible, but I saw it.” And springing from his chair, Reggie began to pace excitedly up and down the room.
“Yes,” said Mr. Morris, quietly, “it is incredible, but I saw it too.”
“What!” exclaimed Reggie. “You saw it, Mr. Morris?”
“Yes, just as you describe it. It is due to the fact that I supposed you also had seen it that I came in to talk it over with you to-night. I am afraid Chapin is capable of that sort of thing.”
“Well, then——”—Reggie stopped—”Well, then,” he repeated, “I suppose it is up to us to tell the Head.”