lf, too, this morning. And I hate Graves."

Ken jumped up with kindling eyes.

"Kel, you've gone back on me--we'd started to be such friends--I tried
to persuade you--"

"I know. I'm sorry, Ken. But I really liked you best. I was--you know
how it is, Ken. If only Worry don't find it out!"

"Tell him," said Ken, quickly.

"What?" groaned Kel, in fright.

"Tell him. Let me tell him for you."

"No--no--no. He'd fire me off the team, and I couldn't stand that."

"I'll bet Worry wouldn't do anything of the kind. Maybe he knows
more than you think."

"I'm afraid to tell him, Ken. I just can't tell him."

"But you gave your word of honor not to break training. The only
thing left is to confess."

"I won't tell, Ken. It's not so much my own place on the team--there
are the other fellows."

Ken saw that it was no use to argue with Raymond while he was so sick
and discouraged, so he wisely left off talking and did his best to make
him comfortable. Raymond dropped asleep after a little, and when he
awakened just before lunch-time he appeared better.

"I won't be able to practise to-day," he said; "but I'll go down to lunch."

As he was dressing the boys began to come in from college and ran whistling
up the stairs.

Graves bustled into the room with rather anxious haste.

"How're you feeling?" he asked.

"Pretty rocky. Graves--I told Ward about it," said Raymond.

Upon his hurried entrance Graves had not observed Ken.

"What did you want to do that for?" he demanded, arrogantly.

Raymond looked at him, but made no reply.

"Ward, I suppose you'll squeal," said Graves, sneeringly. "That'll
about be your speed."

Ken rose and, not trusting himself to speak, remained silent.

"You sissy!" cried Graves, hotly. "Will you peach on us to Arthurs?"

"No. But if you don't get out of my room I'll hand you one,"
replied Ken, his voice growing thick.

Graves's face became red as fire.

"What? Why, you white-faced, white-haired freshman! I've been aching
to punch you!"

"Well, why don't you commence?"

With the first retort Ken had felt a hot trembling go over him,
and having yielded to his anger he did not care what happened.

"Ken--Graves," pleaded Raymond, white as a sheet. "Don't--please!"
He turned from one to the other. "Don't scrap!"

"Graves, it's up to some one to call you, and I'm going to do it,"
said Ken, passionately. "You've been after me all season, but I
wouldn't care for that. It's your ro