"Well, you know he rather stood in with Langridge and Gerhart when they were here, and, though he isn't as mean as they were, he isn't exactly in our crowd. I can't play with him the same way I can go into a game with the other fellows. I think I'll ask Kindlings to let me shift to the other end."
"Don't you do it!" cried Sid, quickly. "Look here, Tom Parsons, the surest way to have a team go to pieces is to have personal felings crop out among the players. We've got to play together, or"
"'Play separately,' as one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence said," interrupted Phil, with a laugh.
"No, I'm serious," protested Sid. "If we're going to act that way, Tom, we might as well give up the team now, and also all hopes of ever winning the championship this year. It's bad enough to have Bricktop and Ed off, without having you kicking up a fuss about Bascome."
"Who's kicking up a fuss, you old misogynist?" demanded the end, limping along. "I only said I couldn't play with Bascome as well as I could with Dan, and I'd like to shift."
"And if you do that it means that some one else will have to shift, and that will throw the whole team into confusion. No, you stick it out, Tom."
