CHAPTER XIV.
THE BONE OF CONTENTION.
For a few moments the boys looked at one another in silence, their faces expressive of dismay. To a fellow, they understood what it meant, and presently some of them glanced toward Ben Stone. He likewise knew, and, rising, he stepped forward to meet the captain of the eleven.
“Eliot,” he said in a low tone, “I think I’d better get out. I’m making a lot of trouble.”
Before them all Roger placed a hand on Ben’s shoulder. “Stone,” he retorted, “the trouble is not of your making. I invited you to come out for practice, and I hope you won’t go back on me now.”
As long as he put it that way, it was impossible for Ben to quit.
Minus Hayden, the boys repaired to the field. They lacked their usual exuberance, however, and Ben detected some of them speaking together in low tones. In spite of everything, he felt that he was an intruder, and his self-consciousness made him particularly awkward and slow about the work he was given to perform. He fumbled punts, he fell on the ball in wretched form, and there seemed to be leaden weights in his shoes. Occasionally he detected some of the boys watching him in anything but a manner of approval.
Finally Eliot made up the team, filling Hayden’s place in the backfield with a substitute and placing Stone at left guard.
“You’re good and solid,” smiled Roger, “and when you wake up you ought to strengthen this wing of the line. Remember to start low and quick at the signal.”
But although the signals, which were very simple, had been fully explained to Ben, he could not grasp them quickly, and he was more or less confused when the time came to act. Roger, however, seemed to consider this very natural, and laughed at him in a good humored way.