“Nothing,” replied Frank, and the wonder of it was that he could smile. “Nothing but to accept my withdrawal, and so inform the committee from Exter.”
“And then we’ve got to get busy and see who we can put in your place, and Shambler’s,” added Kindlings.
The resignation was formally accepted, and word was sent to Wallace and his friends. They expressed their regret at the necessity, and even admitted that perhaps a ruling from the A. A. U. might bear out Frank’s contention that he was not a professional.
“But we haven’t time for it,” said Holly. “We’ll take our medicine, though it’s a bitter pill to swallow.”
“I hope you don’t think we did this because of any fear on our part that we couldn’t win against your two men,” spoke the Exter manager.
“Not at all,” Holly assured him. “I appreciate your position, but it’s tough on us, to lose two good men. I can’t get over that cad Shambler.”
“He certainly played a mean part,” agreed Wallace. “This Simpson’s case is altogether different. I’m sorry for him.”
“We all are,” put in Kindlings. “Well, we’ve got a little time left in which to make good. I’m glad we don’t have to go into the games to-morrow.”
“Not wishing you any bad luck,” spoke the Exter lad, with a frank laugh, “I hope we beat you.”