“Of course you are,” eagerly put in Rollins—“you’re dead right, Berlin. You’ve got the cheap skate sized up correct.”
“If you are right,” said Cooper, “we’d all better show Mr. Grant what we think of a sneak. I’m in favor of sending him to Coventry. Let’s cut him out, let him alone, have nothing to do with him; let’s not even speak to him. If every fellow will do that, he’ll enjoy himself hugely—I don’t think.”
“It’s a good idea,” nodded Barker.
“Maybe there’s one feller yeou can’t git to agree to it,” drawled Crane. “Ben Stone’s ruther chummy with Rod Grant.”
“There was a time when Stone wasn’t very popular around here,” reminded Barker.
“Oh, yes,” nodded Sile; “but yeou don’t want to forgit that he come out on top, just the same.”
“Look here,” sneered Berlin, turning on the lanky fellow, “if you want to take up with a sneak and a coward like this boasting Texan why don’t you say so? If you want to be friendly with a skulking, white-livered creature who peaches on you behind your back you can do so.”
“Naow yeou hold right on!” snapped Crane. “I ain’t said nothin’ about bein’ friendly with him myself, have I? We all know haow we used Stone and what come of it. Bern Hayden was at the head of that business, and he’s got out of Oakdale and gone to school somewheres else. I just mentioned the fact that Stone was ruther friendly with Grant. I s’pose that’s natteral, too, seein’ as he recollects what happened to himself when he first hit this taown. We don’t know yet for dead sartain that ’twas Grant who give us away, and so I’m in favor of goin’ slow, that’s all.”
“We don’t have to have proof against him,” retorted Barker. “Nobody else would tell. Besides that, he’s shown himself to be a quitter and a cheap dub. A fellow who hasn’t the sand to play football when his team needs him is a——”
“’Sh!” hissed Piper. “Here’s Eliot.”