Don’s musings were broken in upon by a familiar voice, which cried:
“Hello there, old man! What’s the matter with you—in a trance? Come out of it!”
Looking up, Don saw Leon Bentley stopping outside the fence. As usual, Leon was smoking a cigarette. He was dressed in a padded football suit, with his cap set rakishly over one ear, and his manner was that of one possessed of unlimited conceit and an overwhelming sense of his own importance.
Don had never liked Bentley but his dislike had not been particularly noticeable, for he was a fellow who, on account of his quick temper and sulky moods, had few associates and no close companions among the boys of the village.
Bentley had a strong taste for flashy clothes and cheap jewelry, being inclined to swagger and boast and use profane language, so it was not strange that any thoroughly self-respecting boy in the village did not care to be regarded as his intimate friend.
At one time close friendship had seemed to exist between Leon and Rob Linton, a lad whose bullying inclinations had caused him to be disliked secretly by those who openly professed admiration and regard for him; but even Linton, awakened at last to his own faults, sickened of Bentley and fell to avoiding him as far as possible, which left Leon casting about for another associate.
Remembering the words of his father and his own resolution to try to control his temper, even though Linton’s free-and-easy manner around within him a feeling of resentment, Don held himself in check, nodded shortly, and said:
“Hello, Bentley. Going to practice?”
“Sure thing,” returned Leon, airily. “Got to do it, I suppose, though it’s a horrid bore. Fellow has to practice to keep in the swim and be a real athlete; and he has to be an athlete nowadays, or take part in athletic sports, at least, in order to stand any show with the girls. If he isn’t right in it they’ll throw him down for some fellow who is, even though that fellow may be as long, lank, awkward and clownish as that duffer John Smith. Why, even a girl like Dora Deland, proud as she is, has fallen to raving over him since he happened to turn out something of a baseball pitcher. You must show your skill, old man, if you hope to cut any figure with Zadia Renwood.”
Bentley fell to laughing over his final words, as if he regarded them as a good joke; but he stopped suddenly as he saw Don step quickly toward the fence, scowling his fiercest.
“Have a care with that tongue of yours, Bentley!” Scott almost snarled. “Because I happen to be acquainted with Zadia Renwood does not give you license to make cheap talk, and I won’t take it from you.”
Leon whistled softly, and then hastened to declare:
“I didn’t mean anything, Scott, so what’s the use to flare up and get mad like that! You ought to take something for that temper of yours. At the smallest spark you go off like a flash of powder.”
Don paused, and his flushed face suddenly began to pale, for he realised how soon he had flown into a passion after vowing to do his best to control his temper, which filed him with shame and vexation over his own weakness.
With an effort, the boy cast out from his soul the anger that had seized upon him, and he actually forced a faint smile to his face, which made it seem rather handsome in a dark and cloudy way.
“You’re right, Bentley,” he said; “I was a fool to become angry over your careless words, but neither Zadia Renwood nor any other girl is anything to me, for you know I dislike girls. They’re all silly creatures.”
“They may be silly, but they’re sweet,” Bentley grinned, in a manner that was decidedly repulsive to the other boy. “I tell you, girls are great inventions, and I know you’d like them, old man, if you’d just overcome your foolish prejudice against them. And Zadia Renwood is a peach, too! I’m sure she’s struck on you, and you only have to brace up——”
Don stopped the speaker with a gesture.
“That will do, Bentley!” he exclaimed, harshly, holding himself in check. “Even if I cared for girls, I’d steer clear of Dolph Renwood’s sister.”
“You don’t like him?” questioned Leon, pulling out a package of cigarettes and selecting one, which he proceeded to roll gently between the palms of his hands, all the while watching Don with a curious, cunning look in his washed-out gray eyes.
“I hate the cad!” broke out Scott; but he suddenly seemed to remember his failing and got a firm hold on himself. “He puts on too many airs, Bentley, and he makes a great bluff that he’s a football expert; but it is my private opinion, which I am willing to express publicly, that he doesn’t know the rudiments of the game.”
“I think so, too,” eagerly nodded the lad outside the fence, as, with his yellow-stained fingers, he nervously pulled a little of the filling from one end of the paper wrapper. “And Sterndale is a fool to let that city fop run things the way he does. Never knew Dick to be so soft before, but I suppose we’ll have to stand it if we wish to play the game. Come, it’s time we were on the field now.”
Don hesitated. “I don’t think I’ll go,” he said, in an unsettled manner.
“Oh, rats!” cried Leon, lighting the prepared cigarette from the stub of the one he had finished, which he tossed aside. “Come along, Scott, for you’re needed, and it’s your duty to play for the honor of Rockspur.”
“By your own words a few moments ago, you confessed that you are not going into the game for any such reason, but simply to win admiration from the girls. I do not believe any fellow who plays football for such a reason can do his best and be of real value to the team.”
A suggestion of color mounted to the sallow cheeks of the cigarette-smoker, and he laughingly retorted:
“That was talk, Scott; of course I’m going into the game to help the home team win. We can’t afford to lose any good man, and so you’ll come along with me. As for Renwood, we’re not the only ones who are sick of his high-handed style of lording it over us, and we may be able to bring about a change, if we go at it in the right manner. Get your suit and come on.”
Plainly undecided, Don leaned on the fence.
“My suit is in the dressing-room under the grand-stand,” he said. “I did make up my mind not to have anything more to do with the team as long as Renwood was coaching——”
“That was when you were mad, old man. Of course, I don’t blame you, but don’t let your temper cause you to go back on your own town. Renwood doesn’t really belong here, anyhow; he’s only just moved here since his father, seeing that Rockspur is bound to become a famous summer resort, has bought up the East Shore land as a speculation. I don’t believe in letting such an outsider come in and run things. If you and I combine against him, we can bring enough of the others to our way of thinking to set him back into the place where he belongs.”
Don did not fancy the idea of forming such an alliance with Bentley, but he sought to justify it by telling himself that it was for the good of the Rockspur football team, and that there was no harm in uniting with Leon on such an issue.
“I’ll not become friendly with him,” thought Don, “simply because we both think the same way about this matter. A man is likely to find it needful to have business relations with another whom he would not accept as an associate, and this is purely a matter of business.”
He was soon to learn that such relations are always to be avoided when possible, and that, justly or unjustly, a man or a boy is judged by the company he keeps.
“Come on,” urged Leon. “We’ll talk it over on our way to the ground.”
“When I was angry I declared I wouldn’t play on the team with Renwood,” Don mentally said; “but it is my duty not to let my anger control me.”
Then, vaulting over the fence, he joined Bentley, and they set off together toward the football field.