“Well, I’m rather expecting that by next fall I can tell the truth,” answered Renneker. “It isn’t likely that poor old George will last more than his freshman year without getting found out. If they have something else on him one more thing won’t matter, I guess. Anyway, I mean to keep in training on the chance of it.”
“Does he know about it?” asked Leonard presently. “That you’re taking the blame for this and have lost your place on the team?”
“Oh, no. What’s the use of worrying him about it? He’d be just idiot enough to give the snap away and spoil his own fun.”
“Serve him right,” said Leonard indignantly. “I think it’s a rotten shame that you’ve got to suffer for his—his misdoings!”
“Oh, well, it isn’t as bad as that. I guess I’ve groused a good deal, Grant, but, after all, I’m glad to do it for the old coot. He’d do anything in the world for me without batting an eye-lid. Besides, I’m feeling quite a lot better now that I’ve unburdened my mind to some one. Talk does help a lot sometimes, and I fancy Providence must have sent you forth to-night to hear my tale of woe. Much obliged, really, for being so patient, my dear chap.”
“Don’t be an ass,” begged Leonard. Half an hour before he would have gasped at the idea of inferring that Renneker was an ass, but just now it didn’t even occur to him. “I was glad to listen. Just the same, Renneker, you are acting wrong in this business. I suppose I can’t convince you—”
“Afraid not, Grant.”
“—but it’s a fact, just the same. Aside from everything else, you owe something to the team and the School, and you’re letting them both down when you do this thing. You—you’re endangering to-morrow’s game, and—”
“I’ve thought of all that, Grant, and I don’t agree with you. My own people come before the School or the team—”
“But, Great Scott,” interrupted Leonard impatiently, “in this case your own people, your brother, I mean, is in the wrong! You’re helping him to get away with something that isn’t—”