“Captain Harven,” said the coach firmly but quietly, “I sent Wheaton in to take your place.”
“I intend to stay in, sir,” answered Stuart doggedly. “This is a practice game and a boob play or two don’t matter.”
“I think differently. Kindly do as I say. We can discuss the matter later.”
“No, sir! I’m captain and I’m within my rights, Mr. Haynes. I’m going to play this period out. It wasn’t fair to work us to-day, anyhow. Some of us are done up. If we make mistakes it’s because we oughtn’t to be here at all. You can put Wheat in the next period if you like, but he doesn’t play quarter now.”
Mr. Haynes looked a bit white, but he only nodded and turned on his heel. Then: “Come on, Wheaton,” he said, and led the way back to the side line. Stuart was aware that the other fellows were very carefully avoiding looking at him. Harmon broke the silence and the tension with a cheerful “Come on, First! Let’s get ’em!” and the whistle piped.
Stuart played the twelve-minute period out, as he had said he would, and played very raggedly, although there were no more glaring mistakes. When the teams went off, second still holding her 13 to 0 lead, Stuart tried hard to look nonchalant and smiling and accepted the blanket that The Laird tossed him with a joking remark. The Laird, though, shook his head gently. Stuart froze up and watched the rest of the scrimmage in silence.
He had plenty of time for second thought before the final whistle blew and the first team trailed off to the gymnasium smarting under a 13 to 7 defeat, and in that time he decided that he had, in the accommodating language of the baseball diamond, “pulled a boner.” He firmly believed himself to have been justified in his refusal to accept dismissal from the line-up. That didn’t trouble him. His mistake had been, he concluded, in insisting on his right to remain. It would have been better in every way had he protested with dignity and gone off the field. He would have had the sympathy of his team mates, avoided the possible charge of insubordination and added further evidence of the coach’s high-handedness. As it was, he had the uncomfortable conviction that he had made himself appear ridiculous rather than heroic. These reflections were no aid to composure and peace of mind, and, although he wanted to convey the impression that the incident had left him undisturbed, no one was deceived by his studied attempt at nonchalance. He took pains not to avoid Mr. Haynes, but did not seek to reopen the discussion. For his part, the coach, rather graver than usual, seemed to have dismissed the matter from his mind.
Stuart went back to Lacey from the gymnasium and recounted the incident to Neil. He treated it lightly, even flippantly, but under the lightness was an unconscious note of defiance. He didn’t expect Neil to altogether approve of his action, but it was typical of him that he always did tell Neil things whether he looked for commendation or censure. Perhaps this was largely because the other’s judgments, for or against, were invariably frank and honest. When Stuart had ended, Neil smiled and shook his head.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do with you, Stuart,” he sighed. “You do mess things up frightfully!”
“What about others?” asked Stuart in injured tones. “Who started the trouble to-day?”