"None, but if he'd have let the others off——"
"Do you suppose that the others would have agreed to any such bargain? They're not kids, even if you try to make them out so. They went into the thing with their eyes open and are just as much to blame as you are. They wouldn't let you be the goat, you idiot!"
"They needn't have known anything about it, Clint. Oh, well, I suppose there's no use fussing. I don't care about the others. It's Tom I'm sorry for. And the team, too. Pryme can't fill Tom's shoes, and we'll get everlastingly walloped, and it'll be my fault, and——"
"Piffle! Tom's a good player, one of the best, but he isn't the whole team. Pryme will play the position nearly as well. I'm sorry for Tom, too, but he's the one who will have to do the worrying, I guess. Now you buck up and quit looking like a kicked cur."
"If only the fellows didn't have it in for him the way they have," mourned Amy. "Everyone's down on him and he knows it and he's worried to death about it. They're a lot of rotters! After the way Tom's worked on that team ever since he got on it! Why, he's done enough for the school if he never played another lick at anything! And I'll tell you another thing. Someone's going to get licked if I hear any more of this knocking!"
"You'll have to lick most of the school then," replied Clint calmly. "Try not to be a bigger chump than nature made you, Amy. You can't blame the fellows for being a bit sore at Tom. I am myself. Only I realise that he didn't mean to get into trouble with the office, and the rest of them don't, I reckon. It'll all blow over in a few days. Cheer up. A month from now you won't care a whoop."
"If we're beaten by Claflin I'll get out of school," answered Amy dolefully.
"All right, son, but don't begin to pack your trunk yet. We won't be."