“Why,” laughed Dick, “just what I said. You’re not going to deny that you slowed down and let him win, are you?”
For a long moment Trevor was very busy with his nightshirt, which suddenly exhibited an unwonted dislike to going on. Then:
“I fancy there’s no use denying it,” he muttered from the folds of the mutinous garment.
“Not a bit,” answered Dick smilingly.
“You see,” explained Trevor presently, “Earle had set his heart on winning, and it didn’t mean anything to me, you know; I hadn’t any relatives looking on; and then his mother was so—so jolly nice about it, and his father, and—and all, that I just thought he might as well win. Doesn’t it—don’t you think it was all right?”
“Well, it wasn’t exactly fair, you know; but I guess it was something even better,” answered Dick.
“Do you think Earle suspected anything?”
“I’m sure I don’t know; I didn’t see him. But Williams and Todd, who were sitting with me, thought it was a straight race, and so I guess Earle thought so too.”
Later, when the lights were out and the two were in bed, Dick broke the silence.
“Are you awake, Nesbitt?”