Behind the Line | Page 6

and eyed Neil furtively before he turned to the coach.
"Of course," he said, "this is rather unexpected."
The coach's eyes flickered for an instant with amusement.
"For my part," Neil broke in almost angrily, "I'm due in September at Erskine, and unless Paul's changed his mind since yesterday so's he."
The Robinson coach raised his eyebrows in simulated surprise.
"Ah," he said slowly, "Erskine?"
"Yes, Erskine," answered Neil rather discourteously. A faint flush of displeasure crept into Mr. Brill's cheeks, but he smiled as pleasantly as ever.
"And your friend has contemplated ruining his football career in the same manner, has he?" he asked politely, turning his gaze as he spoke on Paul. The latter fidgeted in his chair and looked over a trifle defiantly at his room-mate.
"I had thought of going to Erskine," he answered. "In fact"--observing Neil's wide-eyed surprise at his choice of words--"in fact, I had arranged to do so. But--but, of course, nothing has been settled definitely."
"But, Paul--" exclaimed Neil.
"Well, I'm glad to hear that," interrupted Mr. Brill. "For in my opinion it would simply be a waste of your opportunities and--ah--abilities, Mr. Gale."
"Well, of course, if a fellow doesn't have to bother too much about studies," said Paul haltingly, "he can do better work on the team; there can't be any question about that, I guess."
"None at all," responded the coach.
Neil stared at his chum indignantly.
"You're talking rot," he growled. Paul flushed and returned his look angrily.
"I suppose I have the right to manage my own affairs?" he demanded. Neil realized his mistake and, with an effort, held his peace. Mr. Brill turned to him.
"I fear there's no use in attempting to persuade you to come to us also?" he said. Neil shook his head silently. Then, realizing that Paul was quite capable, in his present fit of stubbornness, of promising to enter Robinson if only to spite his room-mate, Neil used guile.
"Anyhow, September's a long way off," he said, "and I don't see that it's necessary to decide to-night. Perhaps we had both better take a day or two to think it over. I guess Mr. Brill won't insist on a final answer to-night."
The Robinson coach hesitated, but then answered readily enough:
"Certainly not. Think it over; only, if possible, let me hear your decision to-morrow, as I am leaving town then."
"Well, as far as I'm concerned," said Paul, "I don't see any use in putting it off. I'm willing--"
Neil jumped to his feet. A burst of martial music swept up to them as the school band, followed by a host of their fellows, turned the corner of the building.
"Come on, Paul," he cried; "get your coat on. Mr. Brill will excuse us if we leave him; we mustn't keep the fellows waiting. And we can think the matter over, eh, Paul? And we'll let him know in the morning. Here's your coat. Good-night, sir, good-night." He was holding the door open and smiling politely. Paul, scowling, arose and shook hands with the Robinson emissary. Neil kept up a steady stream of talk, and his chum could only mutter vague words about his pleasure at Mr. Brill's call and about seeing him to-morrow. When the door had closed behind him the coach stood a moment in the hall and thoughtfully buttoned his coat.
"I think I've got Gale all right," he said to himself, "but"--with a slight smile--"the other chap was too smart for me. And, confound him, he's just the sort we need!"
When he reached the entrance he was obliged to elbow his way through a solid throng of shouting youths who with excited faces and waving caps and flags informed the starlight winter sky over and over that they wanted Gale and Fletcher, to which demand the band lent hearty if rather discordant emphasis.
* * * * *
A good deal happened in the next two hours, but nothing that is pertinent to this narrative. Victorious Hillton elevens have been hauled through the village and out to the field many times in past years, and bonfires have flared and speeches have been made by players and faculty, and all very much as happened on this occasion. Neil and Paul returned to their room at ten o'clock, tired, happy, with the cheers and the songs still echoing in their ears.
Paul had apparently forgotten his resentment toward Neil and the whole matter of Brill's proposition. But Neil hadn't, and presently, when they were preparing for bed, he returned doggedly to the charge.
"When did you meet that fellow Brill?" he asked.
"In Gardiner's room this morning; he introduced us." Paul began to look sulky again. "Seems a decent sort, I think," he added defiantly. Neil accepted the challenge.
"I dare say," he answered carelessly. "There's only one thing I've got against him."
"What's that?" questioned Paul suspiciously.
"His errand."
"What's wrong with his errand?"
"Everything, Paul. You know as well