FANNING THE FLAMES.
Leon was waiting for Don at the first corner when the latter started
for school the following Monday morning. As usual, he was puffing
a cigarette. The sight of him angered Don, who would have hurried
straight on without speaking, but Bentley joined him, saying:
“I was watching for you, old man. Got something to tell you. I went
down to the club-room after your dad came in on us so jerky Saturday
night, and I found all the gang there, weeping over their defeat. It
would have done you good to see them. A big lot of cry-babies! They had
something to say about you, too.”
He had hurried on with his words, being shrewd enough to observe that
the doctor’s son was in no very agreeable mood, and, as he anticipated,
the final statement aroused Don’s curiosity, although an attempt was
made to conceal it.
“What do you suppose I care what they say about me!” growled the
dark-eyed lad, with a toss of his head. “They can say any old thing
they like.”
But he slackened his pace somewhat and did not try to shake off his
unwelcome companion.
“They were saying every old thing,” asserted Leon. “I tell you, they
gave you a raking down behind your back.”
“That didn’t hurt me any. I wasn’t on their old team, so they couldn’t
blame me for their defeat.”
“But they did, just the same.”
Don stopped short and looked at Bentley, his face growing hard.
“How the dickens could they do that?” he snapped.
“Why, they said you acted like a fool in getting your back up and
leaving the team. They said they were glad enough to get rid of you,
but they’d ought to have fired you in the first place. As it was, you
left at a bad time, making it necessary to shift the men around, so
there was no time to get the team back in shape, and, for that reason,
you were responsible for the loss of the game.”
Leon told this lie glibly and with a show of truthfulness that aroused
no suspicion in the mind of the hearer; but the falsehood did the work
Bentley wished it to do, and the black look deepened on the rather
handsome face of Don Scott, marring his good looks and making his
aspect repellent.
“Who said this, Bentley?” he demanded, harshly. “Was it that
treacherous snake, Renwood?”
“Sure thing,” nodded Leon. “He blames it all onto you, but he ain’t the
only one. The others agreed with him, and I told them what I thought of
it. I don’t often get right up and speak out in meeting,” the fellow
went on, “but I couldn’t keep still this time, so I said enough to get
them all mad at me. Now, I hear that they’re going to kick me out
again. What do you think of that, Don?”
“I think it serves you right for going back onto the team,” was the
unsympathetic answer.
“What? You say that after I stood up for you? Well, I never thought
such a thing of you, Scott!” Leon assumed an injured air, giving Don a
look of deep reproach.
“The trouble with you is that you’re altogether too shifty,” said the
doctor’s son. “When you do a thing, stick to it. But I’m not kicking at
you. I’d like to hit Renwood for wagging his mouth about me so much!”
“It’s what you ought to do. Of course he would deny it, but you know
what he is. Why, he even denied to you that he meant you when he said
there were some men on the team who were no earthly good, but he’s
laughed about it since, saying he didn’t think you’d tumble to yourself
so quickly.”
A sound of grating teeth came from Don’s mouth, delighting Leon with
the knowledge that he had reawakened to the full extent the hatred of
the dark-eyed youth for Dolph Renwood.
“There’ll come a day of settlement!” Scott panted.
“Now that he is sore on me, you can’t imagine what he proposes to do,”
snickered Bentley. “Why I have it straight that he’s going to come to
you and try to get you back onto the eleven, just so he can kick me
out.”
“Let him come!” cried Don. “That is what I want. I’ll tell him a few
things!”
They had proceeded up the hill till they were in sight of the white
academy, which showed through the trees of the grounds. Now, fully
satisfied with himself and what he had done, Bentley stopped, saying:
“Perhaps we’d better not go up together. The fellows have charged me
with carrying things to you, and they may suspect that I’ve put you
onto Renwood’s game. You go ahead.”
So Don walked on and Leon came up later. Knowing Bentley as he did, it
was rather surprising that the doctor’s son permitted himself to be
deceived by the fellow; but he was ready to believe almost anything bad
of Renwood, which, with his hatred and prejudice, blinded his sense of
perception.
Renwood had not arrived at the academy and did not appear till a few
moments before the beginning of the morning session, giving him no
opportunity to speak with Scott, in case he desired to do so. That
noon, however, the coach of the eleven was talking with Chatterton
beneath one of the large oaks near the entrance to the grounds, when
Don came through the gate. Perceiving Scott, Dolph immediately advanced
toward him, calling:
“I’d like to speak with you, Scott, if you’ll wait a minute. We can
talk here without being overheard by the fellows up by the steps.”
“I have nothing to say to you that I’m not willing anybody should
hear,” declared Don, holding himself in check, for Leon’s warning
had informed him what was coming, and he was glad of the opportunity
to again express himself to this fellow whom he hated with all the
intensity of his nature.
“Still, it’s better to talk the matter over out here away from the
others,” said Dolph, rather nervously, his manner seeming to betray to
the boy with the searching eyes a self-consciousness of guilt. “I am in
hopes we can come to an understanding.”
Don said nothing, but continued to watch Renwood’s face.
“There is something about me,” Dolph continued, seeming troubled to
find words to express himself, “that caused you to take a strong
dislike to me almost the first time you saw me. I knew it, for you are
not a chap to conceal your feelings. I have some pride and spirit of my
own, and I’m not the kind of a fellow to try to curry favor with those
who dislike me, for which reason I had very little to do with you till
the football team was organized, and I was selected as coach. Then it
became necessary for me to have some dealings with you. One thing I
want to claim right here is, that I never tried to injure you in any
way.”
There was curling scorn in the movement of Don’s lips, but he continued
silent, apparently waiting with some impatience for Renwood to finish.
Dolph saw and understood the expression on the face of his enemy, but
he pretended to take no note of it, hurrying on with scarcely a break:
“When Sterndale was making up the team, I suggested that you be
tried in the position you were given, one of the most prominent and
difficult places on an eleven. I had observed that you could run like
a deer, could dodge and handle yourself gracefully, and I fancied you
possessed, or could develop, other requirements that would make you
a first-class man at half. I made one mistake,” the coach confessed,
“for, in instructing the team, I did not take into consideration the
fact that you might be easily angered, so that you would quit the
eleven and refuse to come back. I don’t think I quite understood you in
that respect. Anyhow, you got mad with me, which has raised hob with
everything. I used you just exactly the same as I did others on the
team, but you seemed to think I had some spite against you. You were
wrong, Scott; I had nothing in the world against you.”
“By that,” said Don, with a sneer, “I presume you infer that I was
wholly to blame for everything that occurred? When you jumped on me and
made your insulting remarks to me before the eleven and the whole crowd
of spectators, I had no right to resent it! I should have curled up and
taken it, like a meaching cur! But I’m not that kind of a huckleberry!
I don’t belong to the whipped-cur breed, Mr. Dolph Renwood!”
“I made a mistake,” Dolph again acknowledged, still speaking calmly.
“You must remember that I belonged to a city team, and that team was
coached by a professional. You should have heard him talk to us!
Why, there wasn’t a man in the whole bunch that he didn’t give a
tongue-lashing. If I had begun to talk that way to the boys here----”
“You started in,” declared Don. “Just because a professional coach
could talk that way, you tried to show off by doing so; but you found
out it wouldn’t go in this town, and so you had to come down some.
That’s about the size of it.”
Renwood’s face had been pale, but now a sudden flush burned in his
cheeks, making it plain that Scott’s words and bearing were arousing
his pride and anger.
“Let’s not talk of that,” he cried, perceiving it would do no good. “We
were beaten at Highland, Saturday, and the eleven must be strengthened
somehow if we are to stand a show with them when they come here next
Saturday. If we had you back in your old position, I think there would
be a chance of making the team strong enough to meet those fellows.
I confess that I’m sorry I offended you. I’ll even apologize if you
demand it! I’ll do anything to make the team strong enough to beat
Highland.”
Don laughed harshly. “You don’t know me, Renwood,” he declared. “I have
said I was done with you, and I mean it. I’ve said I’d show you up as a
sneak and a traitor, and I meant that, too! I know you for just what
you are. You pretend that you are anxious to beat Highland. Bah! You’re
hand-and-glove with Phil Winston, the Highland coach. You owe him
favors, which you are trying to pay by throwing down Rockspur. I know
it! That strikes home, doesn’t it! Wait--keep still! I’m going to say
all I have to say to you right here and now. You must think me a soft
fool to come back onto the team with you after what I know about you!
You know that I know it, too! You know I know you slashed the suits and
cut up the football in the dressing-room under the grand-stand! Yet you
had the crust to face me and try to paste that onto me! As far as you
have been able you have hurt me, for the most of the boys are idiots
enough to believe I did that job. Now, you are sore on Bentley because
he happened to get a touchdown in the Highland game, and you want to
dump him off the team. You see that you must do something to hold your
grip with the boys and make them believe you are trying hard to put a
winning eleven on the field, and so you’ve planned to dump Bent and
make a bluff at doing something all at one lick. Renwood, you’re so
thin I can see through you like window-glass. Some day all the fellows
will see through you. I’ve told you just what I think of you, and you
can chew on it.”
Don was about to turn away, but, panting and pale, Dolph caught him by
the arm, huskily exclaiming:
“Stop! I’ve got something more to say to you! I see I’ve made a fool
of myself for nothing. I might have known you were unreasonable and
obstinate enough to keep the thing up. Talk about bluffing! You are
the champion! After stealing my knife right from under my nose in the
club-room, you saw a way to hurt me, as you fancied, and you went up
to the field and slashed the suits and cut up the football with that
knife, which you left there so that it would seem I did it. Then you
told a preposterous story about encountering me in the room and tried
to make the boys believe I attempted to stab you. I was willing to
overlook all that, not because I forgave you, but because I was anxious
for the good of the eleven; but now I want to tell you just what I
think, as you have pretended to tell me. You’re a miserable----”
“Dolph! Dolph!” cried a voice, and Zadia, having entered by the gate,
accompanied by other girls, rushed between the two panting lads, who
were about to fly at each other’s throats. Putting a hand against the
breast of each, she held them apart with all her strength, gasping:
“You shall not! You shall not! Stop this minute. Remember your promise
to me, Don Scott!”
Don did not draw back immediately, but at last he took his eyes, full
of intense rancor, from the face of Renwood and turned them upon
Dolph’s pretty, trembling, imploring sister. Swiftly he melted before
her entreating gaze, but he could not resist the impulse to hurl a
last savage shot at the fellow he hated.
“Some time, Renwood,” he said, “your sister will not be at hand to come
between us. Then look out for yourself!”
With which, he turned toward the academy.