“You’ll get onto it all right in time,” declared the captain. “Perhaps this code of signals won’t be used at all after we get our coach. I’m just trying the fellows out to get them used to the formations.”
“My deduction is—” began Piper; but no one listened to him.
Practice over, Ben returned to the gymnasium to change his clothes, feeling far from pleased with himself. His discomfiture was increased when he heard Berlin Barker telling some of the boys that he considered it a great misfortune that Hayden should become huffed and leave the team.
“I don’t know how we’re going to get along without him in the backfield,” said Barker. “He’s fast, and he knows the game right down to the ground. His place can’t be filled.”
“Oh, he’ll get over it,” prophesied Cooper cheerfully. “He will come round in a day or two.”
“You don’t know him,” returned Berlin. “He’ll never change his mind.”
Ben sat alone in his room, thinking it all over. He felt that Barker was right in believing that as long as he remained on the team Bern Hayden would not return to it. That Hayden was a good player and a valuable man he had no doubt. What did it matter whether he himself played football or not? True, he would have enjoyed doing so, but, to a certain extent, he had triumphed over the fellow who had tried to drive him out of school, and might it not be best if that satisfied him? Discord on the team was a serious misfortune, and only for Eliot’s persistence he would have taken himself away already.
“Roger is a fine fellow,” he whispered. “He’s a friend worth having. Still, in order to show his friendliness toward me, he should not produce disruption on the eleven. For the good of the school I must withdraw.”
He went out for a walk in the open air. Passing the post office, he saw in the light which shone from the open door Berlin Barker and Bernard Hayden talking together.
“Barker stands by Hayden,” he muttered, “and I suppose there are others.”