re the
matter with him than you or I have. Probably not so much. Shows absolute
relief when you tell him he's dropped. What would you say to that?"

"You mean Gilbert did that?" Mr. Robey assented. "I wondered why he
wasn't on the platform with the rest of the team," mused the doctor.
"I'd say there was something queer about it, George. When did this
happen?"

"Last week. Thursday or Friday, I think. He'd been laid off for a day or
so and I thought he'd gone a bit fine, although he's rather too
phlegmatic to suffer much from nerves. Some of the high-strung chaps do
go to pieces about this time and you have to nurse them along pretty
carefully. But Gilbert! Well, on Saturday--yes, that was the day--he'd
been reported perfectly fit by the trainer and just as a matter of form
I asked him if he was ready to play. And, by Jove, he had the cheek to
face me and say he wasn't well enough! It was nonsense, of course. He'd
simply got scared. I told him so and dropped him. But it's curious that
a boy who could do what you told of this evening could prove a quitter
like that."

"You say he seemed relieved when you let him go?"

"Yes, he showed it plainly."

"That is funny! I wonder what the truth of it is?"

"Nerves, I suppose. Cold feet, as the fellows say."

"Never! There's something else, old man, that you haven't got hold of.
Can he play?"

"Y-yes. Yes, he can play. He's the sort that comes slow and plays a bit
logy, but he's steady and works hard. Not a brilliant man, you know, but
dependable. He's been playing guard. Losing him has left us a bit weak
on that side, too."

"Why not take him back then? Look here, George, you're a good coach and
all that, but you're a mighty poor judge of human nature."

"Piffle!"

"It's so, though. You've only got to study that chap Gilbert to see that
he isn't the quitting kind. His looks show it, his manner shows it, the
way he talks shows it. He's the sort that might want to quit; we all do
sometimes; but he couldn't because he's got stuff in him that wouldn't
let him!"

"That's all well enough, Gus, but facts are facts. Gilbert _did_ quit,
and quit cold on me. So theories don't count for much. And this human
nature flapdoodle----"

"I don't say he didn't quit. But I do say that you've made the wrong
diagnosis, George. Did you talk to him? Ask him what the trouble was? Go
after the symptoms?"

"No, I'm no physician. He said he wasn't feeling well enough to play. I
told him