“Well, that’s what you’ve done, isn’t it?” said Gerald. “You lied about me after the cross-country trial and now you’ve stolen this cup.”
“I’ve a good mind to go over there and make you eat those words, you little stuck-up cad!” blazed Hiltz, half rising from his chair.
“I’m not afraid of you,” retorted Gerald, the color rushing to his face. “You did lie when you said I cheated and you did steal that cup!”
“I didn’t steal it, I tell you! I only took it to worry you fellows, and I meant to bring it back before you needed it this afternoon. And I would have if Collins hadn’t threatened to expel the fellow who took it.”
Gerald glanced at his watch.
“Well, I’m glad you returned it when you did,” he said, “for now, if Broadwood wins, we’ll be able to hand it over to her.” He glanced from the cup to Hiltz and then examined his hands frowningly for a moment. Finally:
“Look here, Hiltz,” he said, glancing across, “I never did anything to you personally to make you hate me so, did I?”
“Personally, no,” answered Hiltz. “I’d like to see you!”
“Well, why have you got it in for me so?”
Hiltz’s gaze fell and he shuffled his feet impatiently.