else Bourne would
win the day yet. So he said--

"That is true. He told me so at the beginning of the season, but, of
course, I never bargained for his keeping his word; and when you hear the
reason he gave me--if this is his reason--you'll gasp."

"Well," said Dick, "although I've no right to ask you, I'd like to hear
the plain, unvarnished tale, for, speaking out, Phil Bourne has always
passed for a decent, level fellow. This business, somehow, doesn't seem
his form at all, and it is only fair to him to say it."

"Did you see the match we had with Shannon's scratch team when the term
began?"

"I did."

"Did you notice anything about my play?"

"You opened our eyes a bit, I remember."

"Did I play roughly?"

"No. Not quite that! You were not gentle; but you aren't that as a rule,
though your game is fair enough."

"Not for Bourne. He doesn't like my game. I'm too rough. It's bad form,
_pace_ Bourne, therefore I'm barred my place in the eleven."

"Is that the explanation?"

"Yes. Honour bright! Except"--Acton paused diplomatically for a
moment--"except, I don't think he likes me."

"Then Phil is a fool, and he'll find out pretty speedily that we can't
stand rot of this quality. I, of course, can't take the cap."

"My dear fellow, why in the world not? If you don't, some other house will
get it. Biffen's deserves two fellows in the eleven this year."

"They do, by Jove!"

"Then let us have the satisfaction of keeping out another Corker fellow."

Dick told the other fellows plainly and without any gilding, his
conversation with Acton, and they pressed him to go and see Phil
personally; so Dick marched heavily to Bourne's quarters.

"Sorry, Worcester, but I cannot explain anything. Not even to you. But I
do hope you'll come into the eleven."

Dick said shortly, "I think I shall, for Biffen's deserves the other cap,
though the right fellow isn't getting it. By the way, Bourne, you'll not
be very sweet to the school generally after this. They--the fellows--to a
man, are no end cut up over Acton's treatment."

"I supposed they would be. I knew it would be so."

"Look here, Phil. You always did the square thing. Let us have the reason
for this," said Dick, earnestly.

"Sorry, Worcester, I can't."

"Good night, then."

"Good night."

The rage and consternation of the Biffenites when they found that Bourne
was immovable in his decision can be imagined. Some were inclined to take
the matter up to