"Listen to the idiots," said Dunn in disgust, as the carriage bore them
away from the cheering crowd.
"Man, they're just fine! Aren't they, Father?" said young Rob in an
ecstasy of joy.
"They're generous lads, generous lads, boy," said Doctor Dunn, his old
eyes shining, for his son's triumph touched him deeply. "That's the only
way to take defeat."
"That's all right, Sir," said Dunn quickly, "but it's rather
embarrassing, though it's awfully decent of them."
The doctor's words suggested fresh thoughts to young Rob. "But it was
terrible; and you were just on the win, too, I know."
"I'm not so sure at all," said his brother.
"Oh, it is terrible," said Bob again.
"Tut, tut, lad! What's so terrible?" said his father. "One side has to
lose."
"Oh, it's not that," said Rob, his lip trembling. "I don't care a sniff
for the game."
"What, then?" said his big brother in a voice sharpened by his own
thoughts.
"Oh, Jack," said Rob, nervously wreathing his hands, "he--it looked as
if he--" the lad could not bring himself to say the awful word. Nor was
there need to ask who it was the boy had in mind.
"What do you mean, Rob?" the captain's voice was impatient, almost
angry.
Then Rob lost his control. "Oh, Jack, I can't help it; I saw it. Do
you think--did he really funk it?" His voice broke.
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