“I fully believe that I am in the right, and that no charge of professionalism would stand against me. But, for the honor of Randall I want you to let me withdraw. I——”
“No! No!” came a storm of protests.
“Stick it out!” urged Joe Jackson.
“We’re with you to the end,” added Phil.
Frank raised his hand for silence.
“It’s very good of you to say that,” he went on, when he could be heard, “but I know how these things sometimes turn out. There is talk afterward. You don’t want the success of Randall questioned, in case she should win this meet.”
“But can we win with you and Shambler out?” someone asked.
“Boys, you’ve got to—for the honor of Randall,” said Frank quietly. “You’ve just got to! You’ve got to let me drop out, and someone must take my place. It can be done, easily. Someone must run for Shambler, too. I know it’s going to be hard to get someone with his record, but we’ll do it. Boys, I’m not going to take part in the games. That’s final!”
In spite of the fact that they all expected this as a climax to what Frank had started to say, it came as a shock. There was a tense silence, and then someone asked:
“Isn’t there a way out? We need you, Simpson.”