“I should say I wouldn’t play, under such circumstances!  Nor would you, Prescott, had the same thing happened to you.”

“I have had worse things happen to me,” replied Dick coolly.  “I have been hectored to pieces, at times, both on the baseball and football teams.  The hectoring has even gone so far that I have had to fight, more than once.  But never sulked in dressing quarters and refused to go on the field.”

“No!” taunted Drayne.  “And a good reason why.  You craved to get out, always, and make grand stand plays!”

“I suppose I’m as fond of applause from the grand stand as any other natural fellow,” laughed Dick good-humoredly.  “But I’ll tell you one thing, Drayne:  I never hear a murmur of what comes from the grand stand until the game is over.  I play for the success of the team to which I belong, and listening to applause would take my mind off the plays.  But, candidly, what the fellows have against you, is that you’re a quitter.  You throw down your togs at a critical moment, and tell us you won’t play, just because your fearfully sensitive feelings have been hurt.  Now, a sportsman doesn’t do that.”

“Oh, it’s all right for you to take on that mighty superior air, and try to lecture me,” retorted Drayne gruffly.

“I’m not lecturing you.  But the fellows chose me to lead the team this year, and the captain is the spokesman of the team.  He also has to attend to its disagreeable business.  Don’t blame me, Drayne, and don’t blame anyone else-----”

“Captain Prescott!” sounded the low, but clean-cut, penetrating voice of Mr. Morton, submaster and football coach of the Gridley High School.

“Coming, sir!” answered Dick promptly.

Then he added, to Drayne: 

“Just blame your own conduct for the decision that was reached by coach and myself after listening to the instructions of the alumni Athletics Committee.”

Dick moved away at a loping run, for football practice was limited to an hour and a half in an afternoon, and he knew there was no time to be frittered.

“Oh, you sneak!” quivered Drayne, clenching his hands as he scowled at the back of the captain.  “It was you who brought up the old dispute.  It is you who are keeping me from any decent chance this last year of mine in the High School.  I won’t stand it!  I’ll shake the dust from my feet on this crowd.  I won’t remain in the squad, just for a possible chance to sub in some small game!”

His face still hot with what he considered righteous indignation, Drayne felt better as soon as he had decided to shake the crowd.

In an instant, however, he changed his mind.  A sly, exultant look came into his eyes.

“On second thought I believe I won’t quit,” he grinned to himself.  “I’ll stay—–­I’ll drill—–­and I’ll get good and square with this cheap crowd, captained by a cheap man!  Gridley hasn’t lost a game in years.  Well, you chaps shall lose more than one game this year!  I’ll teach you!  I’ll make this a year that shall never be forgotten by humbled Gridley pride!”