The coach paused and the silence was deep. Bert waited for Chick to defend himself, to offer an excuse, an explanation, but Chick made no answer and the coach went on. He had spoken easily, without a suggestion of rancor, and he continued in such manner.
“You’re going up to college next fall and, unless you’ve changed your mind, to my college, Burton. And I guess you mean to play football. That’s right, isn’t it?”
“Yes, sir,” answered Chick in a low voice.
“Well, don’t you think you’re counting a whole lot on my—my forbearance? Do you realize that, if I wanted to be nasty—no, not even that; but if I wanted to take my revenge—I could very easily make it impossible for you to ever make a team there? Ever think of that, Burton?”
“No, sir.”
“Well, never mind. It’s a fact, though. But I haven’t any desire to get back at you like that. After all, while you’ve made things a bit more difficult for me and have delayed the progress of the team, you’ve been harder on yourself than any one else, I guess. This is your last year here and you’re not showing pretty. It’s a poor piece of business for a First Team player to do so badly in his last season that he has to sit on the bench during the big game. And, frankly, Burton, as things stand now, that’s what you’ll be doing Saturday.”
“That’s for you to say, of course,” said Chick with some spirit, “but I don’t think I deserve that, sir. I—I may have been pretty poor sometimes, but I can still play better than Shelfer.”
“Can you? Perhaps you can. Yes, I’m sure you can. But the point is, Burton, that you don’t! And I’m bound to judge you by performance, my boy. Perhaps you think it’s a low-down trick to corner you when you’re feeling punk and say this sort of thing, but it’s just because you are feeling punk that I’m doing it.” Mr. Cade smiled. “You know, Burton, if you hadn’t had a crack on the head you’d never have let me say this; you’d have flung off in a temper long ago; and I’ve had it on my mind for some weeks and I consider that I’ve got it coming to me to get rid of it. Now, if it isn’t unreasonable to ask, Burton, what’s the answer to the whole business? Have you lost your interest in football, in the Team? Are you disgruntled because you didn’t make the captaincy? I certainly expected you to, and I’ll say frankly that I was disappointed that you didn’t. Or have you taken a personal dislike to me as a coach? There’s some explanation, and I’m curious to know what it is.”
After a moment Chick answered dispiritedly: “I don’t know, sir. I—maybe if my head didn’t ache— Anyway, it’s nothing to do with you, Mr. Cade. I suppose I did get grouchy about not getting the captaincy, but I don’t believe—” Chick’s voice trailed off tiredly.
“I think I can answer that better, sir,” said Bert. “He was peeved about the captaincy first, and then he got hold of something that interested him more than football, and, one way and another, he just sort of lost his—his hold. I’m sure he meant to carry on, Mr. Cade, but he let this other thing take up his time and his thought. That’s true, isn’t it, Chick?”