"Yes, there is, too," answered Paul angrily. "They've got lots of good
players at Erskine, and you and I won't stand any better show than a
dozen others."

"I don't want to."

"Huh! Well, I do; that is, I want to make the team. Besides, as Brill
said, if a fellow has the faculty after him all the time about studies
he can't do decent work on the team. I don't see anything wrong in it,
and--and I'm going. I'll tell Brill so to-morrow!"

Neil drew his bath-robe about him, and looked thoughtfully into the
flames. So far he had lost, but he had one more card to play. He turned
and faced Paul's angry countenance.

"Well, if I should go to Robinson and play on her team under the
conditions offered by that--by Brill I'd feel disgraced."

"You'd better stay away, then," answered Paul hotly.

"I wouldn't want to show my face around Hillton afterward, and if I met
Gardiner or 'Wheels' I'd take the other side of the street."

"Oh, you would?" cried his room-mate. "You're trying to make yourself
out a little fluffy angel, aren't you? And I suppose I'm not good enough
to associate with you, am I? Well, if that's it, all I've got to say--"

"But," continued Neil equably, "if you accept Brill's offer, so will I."

Paul paused open-mouthed and stared at his chum. Then his eyes dropped