“I don’t know what you heard,” replied Gus calmly, “but the score was five to nothing; they missed the goal.”
“So you did play those fellows, eh?”
“We did our best, but it wasn’t good enough.”
“You must be crazy,” broke in Frank Hopkins. “You know blamed well you hadn’t any right to do that. Your business is to give the School Team practice and not play games with other teams.”
“Especially with that crowd of sore-heads!” added Prentiss.
“But, look here,” said Gus mildly, “other schools let their second teams play real games. Why not here? As for ‘sore-heads,’ I don’t know anything about that. Langton challenged us and we wanted a game; that’s all there was to it.”
“Why didn’t you say something about it to me, then?” Hopkins demanded.
“I was afraid you’d raise a fuss,” answered Gus.
“You bet I’d have raised a fuss! And I’m going to raise one yet! You needn’t think you can do what you please just because you’re captain of that team, Devens. Langton and his crowd are doing all they can to make trouble for us, and you know it. You’re a traitor, that’s what you are! You don’t deserve to—to—”