"Yes, in no time," answered Grafton. "Besides, Joe says that all you have to do is to take a pencil and rub it over and no one can tell. I'm going to try it." He sat down cautiously on the edge of the bed. "How are you feeling!" he asked.
"All right. Kind of tired, though. How about you?"
"Fine." There was a silence during which he played nervously with a shoe strap. At last:
"I say, Garwood," he blurted, "it's—it's all right about—about that, you know. I told President Randall."
"You needn't have," muttered Kenneth.
"I wanted to! And I'm sorry. It was a sneaky thing that I did to you. I—I don't know why I cared so much about staying on the team; I don't now."
"Did he—was he mad about it?"
"Wasn't he! I am to be suspended for a month."
"I'm sorry," said Kenneth honestly. "It—it was decent of you to tell."
"Decent nothing! It was decent of you not to blow on me the other day. Why didn't you?" he asked curiously.