The next afternoon, Sunday, Neil, obeying the trainer’s instructions, went for a walk.  Paul begged off from accompanying him, and Neil sought Sydney.  That youth was delighted to go, and so, Neil alternately pushing the tricycle and walking beside it while Sydney propelled it himself, the two followed the river for several miles into the country.  The afternoon was cold but bright, and being outdoors was a pleasure to any healthy person.  Neil forgot some of his worries and remembered that, after all, he was still a boy; that football is not the chief thing in college life, and that ten years hence it would matter little to him whether he played for his university against her rival or looked on from the bench.  And it was that thought that suggested to him a means of sparing Paul the bitter disappointment that he dreaded.

The plan seemed both simple and feasible, and he wondered why he had not thought of it before.  To be sure, it involved the sacrificing of an ambition of his own; but to-day, out here among the pines and beeches, with the clear blue sky overhead and the eager breeze bringing the color to his cheeks, the sacrifice seemed paltry and scarcely a sacrifice at all.  He smiled to himself, glad to have found the solution of Paul’s trouble, which was also his own; but suddenly it occurred to him that perhaps he had no right to do what he contemplated.  The ethics were puzzling, and presently he turned to Sydney, who had been silently and contentedly wheeling himself along across the road, and sought his counsel.

“Look here, Syd, you’re a level-headed sort of chump.  Give me your valuable opinion on this, will you?  Now—­it’s a supposititious case, you know—­here are two fellows, A and B, each trying for the same—­er—­prize.  Now, supposing A has just about reached it and B has fallen behind; and supposing I—­”

“Eh?” asked Sydney.

“Yes, I meant A. Supposing A knows that B is just as deserving of the prize as he is, and that—­that he’ll make equally as good use of it.  Do you follow, Syd?”

“Y—­yes, I think so,” answered the other doubtfully.

“Well, now, the question I want your opinion on is this:  Wouldn’t it be perfectly fair for A to—­well, slip a cog or two, you know—­”

“Slip a cog?” queried Sydney, puzzled.

“Yes; that is,” explained Neil, “play off a bit, but not enough for any of the fellows to suspect, and so let B get the plum?”

“Well,” answered Sydney, after a moment’s consideration, “it sounds fair enough—­”

“That’s what I think,” said Neil eagerly.

“But maybe A and B are not the only ones interested.  How about the conditions of the contest?  Don’t they require that each man shall do his best?  Isn’t it intended that the prize shall go to the one who really is the best?”

“Oh, well, in a manner, maybe,” answered Neil.  He was silent a moment.  The ethics was more puzzling than ever.  Then:  “Of course, it’s only a supposititious case, you understand, Syd,” he assured him earnestly.