"Something in my eye," explained Sheffield; "got it in when I took that tumble. That's why those shots went wild. But it was out before your last pass."
"I gave you the ball," Bunny went on doggedly, "because I knew that was the kind of game you had planned—feeding it to you and letting you shoot the baskets. You didn't exactly tell us, of course, but we knew. And a Scout is supposed to be obedient to his leader and—"
"I see," nodded Sheffield, and let the matter drop. "By the way, why didn't you fellows go swimming with the rest this afternoon?"
"How—how did you know about that?"
"Heard you talking to Barrett and Kiproy and Collins and Turner just before I called them for the second half. But I don't see why—Yes, I guess I do, too. Your Scouts asked you if they could, didn't they?"
"Yes."
"And you wouldn't let them, I suppose. Right!" He turned to Bunny with a smile in his eyes. "Obedience to the leader again, eh? Sort of apron strings. H'm!"
Bunny couldn't make out whether Sheffield was sneering or just turning the matter over in his mind. But when he began a stumbling explanation, the captain cut him short with a question.
"Would you Scouts object," he asked, "to being tied—well, say loosely—to my apron strings in basketball?"
"Why—"