True to prediction, the breeze spent itself, leaving the canoe tossing lightly some two hundred yards from shore. Only a bank of hard-edged clouds proved that the wind had not gone home for the day, but was merely resting to muster reinforcements.
"I'm glad it died down," Molly said promptly, "because now I can talk to you. Rodman Cree, I didn't get you out here just to go sailing, but to find out what's wrong with you. For three weeks, at least, you've been sneaking around like a hermit or something. You don't go with anybody, and nobody goes with you. You used to be happy and light-hearted; now I don't even hear your whistle any more. You don't seem to like anybody, and nobody seems to like you. What's the matter, Rodman? Tell me about it."
He straightened his shoulders defiantly. "Well, I guess there is no reason why the fellows should like me. I'm no good. I'm no good at athletics; I can't even play football. The Scouts think I am in with Buck Claxton's gang, and Buck thinks I am working for the Scouts. Why, Bunny Payton is the only friend I have, and you know as well as I do that he has troubles of his own right now."
Molly's eyes flashed. "It's miserable, that's what it is; miserable that the school is all split up. But that's no reason why you shouldn't have friends. Why don't the Scouts like you?"
Chin on his hands, Rodman doggedly told her the story of the field day between the Scouts and All-School teams. "The Black Eagle fellows think I didn't run my best in the relay race; they think, too, that I was willing to toss away the win after it was over. But that isn't the worst. Do you remember, at the school election, when I said I thought a girl should have some office. Well, the Scouts believe I said that just to keep Specs McGrew from nominating Bunny for president of the student association."
"I'll tell them that wasn't so," Molly offered.
"It won't do any good. Bunny knows the truth, but the others think I am just plain worthless. In football it is the same. I have been out for practice since the first day, but I haven't any chance of making the team. And I am heavier and stronger than a lot of the players on it, too. I've about decided to quit trying. Perhaps my folks will move somewhere else next year. I hope they do."
"But it is just a question of time," urged Molly, "before you learn enough to play on the first eleven. Surely you'll do it next year."
Rodman's shoulders settled back in a curve. "No, I don't think I'll ever make it. I'm no good, that's all; no good at anything."