But Sallie and Margie wisely kept on the side of their companions farthest from him, and so riotous did the badinage become that Phil soon realized that anything he might say would only make the matter worse. Yet the glance he threw at his sisters was eloquent.
“Oh, you needn’t blame Marg or Sallie,” exclaimed one of the others. “I heard part of what you said before I entered the dining-room. So I bullied Marg into supplying the missing links.”
By this time the rest of the fellows had caught up, and the group quickly divided into couples, all of them talking excitedly over the surprising bits of news.
As they proceeded toward the boathouse, Phil was seemingly unconscious that he was walking beside the girl who had sought to appease his wrath against his sisters, and so absorbed was he in his own thoughts that it was not until she spoke that he was aware of her presence.
“I think it is perfectly splendid,” she exclaimed, tenderly.
“What?” demanded Phil, almost savagely.
“Why, your giving up the captaincy of the school team when you are certain to win the championship, just to help your mother.”
“Splendid nonsense! I should be worse than a cad if I didn’t.”
“But you could wait about going out West until after school closes, you know, and then you wouldn’t sacrifice the honour of bringing the championship to Parker.”
“You mustn’t say such a thing,” returned the boy, in a tense voice, as he heard with revulsion the very idea expressed in cold words which had been persistently surging through his mind.