“Well, that’s a funny thing!” exclaimed Sanger.
But he never learned the truth of the matter. Nor, for that matter, did Phin. The conspirators relieved their consciences by declaring that the deception had been practiced in a good cause, but they weren’t particular about having the facts known.
Life in 22 Prince was much pleasanter those days. Bert’s gratitude to Hansel, awkwardly displayed though it was, seemed to the younger boy almost pathetic. There were long talks in the evening on the football situation, and Hansel’s opinions were solicited and deferred to in a way that was almost embarrassing. The subject of Cameron’s standing was not discussed; Hansel realized the futility of trying to make Bert look at the question from his point of view; and at length he even found himself sympathizing with the other’s attitude; the consuming passion of Bert’s life at that time was to bring his captaincy to a successful termination with a victory over Fairview, and if he was willing to stretch fairness a little to do it, he was not without the support of precedent. During those two weeks preceding the final combat of the football campaign Bert and Hansel got to know and understand each other, and a mutual liking, which all the autumn had been only awaiting an opportunity, sprang up and ripened ultimately into a firm friendship.
On Wednesday, after practice was over, Hansel heard his name called as he was trotting across the green toward the terrace and Weeks Hall. He turned and found Billy Cameron overtaking him. Not without some embarrassment he waited for the other to catch up.
“Hello, Cameron,” he said.
“Hello,” responded the other as he ranged himself alongside. “Say, Dana, I wish you’d tell me something.”
“All right, I will if I can.”
“Well, it’s this: have you got anything against me?”
“Not a thing—personally,” answered Hansel.