One day, about a week before the vacation began, he did mention the subject casually to Judy Dimmock, the captain, as they walked in from practice together. Dimmock's consternation, as Harry said afterward, was pitiful to see.
"But do you think you can get Macgrath's permission?" he asked, stupefied.
"Why in the world should I bother about asking Macgrath's permission?" answered Harry. "Of course he wouldn't give it to me."
"Do you mean to say that you're going without it?"
"Of course I'm going without it."
Dimmock was bewildered rather than irritated, though Harry's course of action defied his authority quite as much as the coach's. "You'll have to be dropped from the squad, then, I'm afraid."
"So I supposed."
"Harry, do you mean to say this work means no more to you than that?" stammered Dimmock, all his convictions seething in his brain. "Haven't you got any more respect for your college and traditions than that? Don't you see what good discipline it is to buckle down to work and keep at it, whether you like it or not?"
Harry waited a moment before replying, wondering how he could silence Dimmock without angering him.
"That would all sound very well, if it were the dean and not the track captain that said it," he ventured.