asked. "What are you
going to tell?"

"About this!" She held up the crimson sweater before him. "You know what
I mean, Horace, and there's no use in pretending you don't. You've got
to go to Dad this minute and tell him!"

Horace's eyes fell and the blood rushed to his cheeks. He turned away.

"I can't stay here and talk nonsense with you," he muttered, "I want to
see the game."

[Illustration: "'About this!'"]

But Harry seized him by the arm.

"Why won't you own up, Horace?" she pleaded. "You might. Roy saved you
and--"

"How did he?" asked Horace, pausing.

"Why, by not telling. He knew yesterday. But he wouldn't tell; he
wouldn't let us tell; he said if he did you'd lose your place in the
boat and we'd get beaten. He made us promise not to tell Dad, but I
will, just the same, if you don't promise this minute to do it
yourself!"

"I don't know anything about the sweater," muttered Horace.

"Oh, you big fibber! Jack and Chub were under the bed and saw you take
it out of your trunk and put it under Roy's mattress! And we told Roy,
and he wouldn't tell on you because he said--"

"Oh, I've heard all that once," he interrupted roughly. "I guess if he
didn't tell he had a mighty good reason for it!"

"I've told you why he didn't!" cried Harry impatiently. "Do you suppose
he _wanted_ not to play to-day? He spared you and I think you might do
that much to help him--and me--and the school."

"It was just a sort of joke," murmured Horace, his eyes on the ground.
"I didn't know it was going to cause so much bother." He laughed
uncertainly. "What's the good of making more rumpus now? Roy can't win
the game; we're beaten already."

"You don't know!" insisted Harry. "Anyhow, it would be only fair and
square; and you want to be that, don't you, Horace?"

"And get fired?" he asked glumly. "Oh, sure!"

"You won't be fired! Why, it's almost the end of school!"

Horace was silent a moment, his gaze on the diamond where the Hammond
second baseman was picking himself up from the ground in a successful
effort to head off Post at the plate.

"Look here, Harry," he said finally, "do you really think Roy kept quiet
so that I could stay in the race? Honest injun?"

"I know he did! Chub and Jack will tell you the same thing! Honest and
honest, Horace!"

There was another moment of hesitation. Then Horace squared his
shoulders, laughed carelessly and turned away.

"All right, Harry," he said. "Lead me to the slaughte