Left Guard Gilbert Part 28

"I did, though!" Don looked up desperately. "That was the truth of it!"

Mr. Robey sighed deeply. "Gilbert," he said patiently, "if I couldn't lie better than you can I wouldn't try it! You weren't afraid and you aren't afraid and you know it and I know it! So, then, is it Walton?"

After a moment Don nodded silently.

"You think he's a better man than you are, eh?"

Don nodded again, but hesitatingly.

"Or you've taken pity on him and want him to play against Claflin, perhaps."

"Yes, sir. You see, his folks are going to be here and they'll expect him to play!"

"Oh, I see. You and Walton come from the same town? But of course you don't. How did you know his folks were coming, then?"

"He told me."

"When?"

"About--some time last week."

"Was it the day you had that talk about the position and which of you was to have it?"

"I guess so. Yes, sir, it was that time."

"And he, perhaps, suggested that it would be a nice idea for you to back out and let him in, eh?"

Don was silent.

"Did he?" insisted the coach.

"He said that his folks were coming----"

"And that he'd like to get into the game so they wouldn't be disappointed?"

"Something like that," murmured Don.

"And you consented?"

"Not exactly, but I thought it over and--and----"

Mr. Robey suddenly leaned forward and laid a hand on Don's knee.

"Gilbert," he asked quietly, "_what has Walton got on you_?"

CHAPTER XXIV

"ALL READY, BRIMFIELD?"

THOSE who braved a chill east wind and went out that afternoon to watch practice enjoyed a sensation, for when the first team came trotting over from the gymnasium, a half-hour later because of a rigorous signal quiz, amongst them, dressed to play, was Don Gilbert! A buzz of surprise and conjecture travelled through the ranks of the shivering onlookers, that speedily gave place to satisfaction, and as Don, tossing aside his blanket, followed the first-string players into the field a small and enthusiastic First Form youth clapped approvingly, others took it up and in a moment the applause crackled along the side line.

"That's for you," whispered Tim to Don. "Lift off your head-guard!"

But Don glanced alarmedly toward the fringe of spectators and hid as best he could behind Thursby! Practice went with a new vim today.

Doubtless the return of Don heartened the team, for one thing, and then there was a snap of winter in the air that urged to action. The second was as nearly torn to tatters this afternoon as it had ever been, and the first scored twice in each of the two fifteen-minute periods.

"Boutelle's Babies" were a lame and tired aggregation when the final whistle blew!

Later it became known that Walton was out of it, had emptied his locker and retired from football affairs for the year. All sorts of stories circulated. One had it that he had quarrelled with Coach Robey and been incontinently "fired." Another that he had become huffy over Gilbert's reinstatement and had resigned. None save Don and Coach Robey and Walton himself knew the truth of the matter for a long time. Don did tell Tim eventually, but that was two years later, when his vow of secrecy had lapsed. Just now he was about as communicative as a sphinx, and Tim's eager curiosity had to go unsatisfied.

"But what did he _say_?" Tim demanded after practice that afternoon. "He must have said _something_!"

Don considered leisurely. "No, nothing special. He said I was to report for work."

"Well, what did _you_ say?"

"I said I would!"

"Well, what about Walton? Where does he get off?"

"I don't know."

Tim gestured despairingly. "Gee, you're certainly a chatty party! Don't tell me any more, please! You may say something you'll be sorry for!"

"I'll tell you some day all about it, Tim. I can't now. I said I wouldn't."

"Then there is something to tell, eh? I knew it! You can't fool your Uncle Dudley like that, Donald! Tell me just one thing and I'll shut up.

Did you and Walton have a row the time you went to see him in his room?"

Don shook his head. "No, we didn't."

"Well, then, why----"

"You said you'd shut up," reminded the other.

"Oh, all right," grumbled Tim. "Anyway, I'm mighty glad. Every fellow on the team is as pleased as Punch. I guess the whole school is, too. It was mighty decent of Robey, wasn't it? Do you know, Don, Robey's got a lot of sense for a football coach?"

Don often wondered what had occurred and been said at the interview between Mr. Robey and Harry Walton. The coach had sworn Don to silence at the termination of their interview. "If Walton asks you whether you told me about the business you can say you did, if you like. Or tell him I wormed it out of you, which is just about what I did do. But don't say anything to anyone else about it; at all events, not as long as Walton's here. I'm going to find him now and have a talk with him. I don't think you need be at all afraid of anything he may do after I get through with him. You fellows clearly did wrong in outstaying leave that night, but you had a fairly good excuse and if you'd had enough sense to go to faculty the next morning and explain you'd have all got off with only a lecture, I guess. Your mistake was in not confessing. However, I don't consider it my place to say anything. It's an old story now, anyhow. Be at the gym at three with your togs, Gilbert, and do your best for us from now on. I'm glad to have you back again. What I said that afternoon you'd better forget. I'll show the school that I've changed my mind about you. I suppose I ought to make some sort of an apology, but----"

"Please don't say anything more about it, sir," begged Don.

"Well, I'll say this, Gilbert: You acted like a white man in taking your medicine and keeping the others out of trouble. You certainly deserve credit for that."

"I don't see it," replied the boy. "I don't see what else I _could_ have done, Mr. Robey!"