Peaches gave way to a fresh spasm of emotion, clinging to Zo’s chair. Mrs. Lyle was saying to Mrs. Anderson: “Well, I did think it was sort of―― But so many things go on nowadays―― And coming right out of the radio machine like that――” “Don’t――don’t say any more, Toby!” begged Peaches, wiping his eyes. “I――I can’t stand it!” “Well, well!” Mr. Benjy chuckled admiringly; “quite a――er――quite a hoax, Mother!” “Wonderful!” Mrs. Lyle agreed. “And I don’t see yet how Barry made that music. It sounded so natural that――” “But, my dear, the music was――er――that was real,” explained Mr. Benjy. “The deception began with the――er――the speech by the professor.” “Goodness gracious!” exclaimed Mrs. Lyle. “So that’s how it was! Well, I’m sure――” “Please, Barry, may I have the――the speech?” asked Betty. “I’d love it.” “I guess so,” said Barry. “If Peaches doesn’t want it. It was so dark back there I couldn’t see the writing half the time. That’s why I sort of muddled it.” “But where were you when we came in?” asked Betty. “I’m sure I didn’t see you behind the table, for I looked there. Walter showed us where the wires went.” “Under it,” chuckled Barry. “And there wasn’t much room there, either!” * * * * * Cloudy sky and chill winds greeted Barry when he awoke the next morning. Mount Sippick had hid its head under a leaden-hued canopy of mist. Leaves were scurrying along the road and overnight, or so it seemed, Brazer’s marsh had turned to russet and crimson. But it was fine football weather, and that afternoon practice went with more vim than ever before that season. The squad was noticeably smaller and Barry learned that the Major had made a cut the day before. “Where have you been?” asked Ike Boardman, who supplied the information. “The notice was on the board yesterday after practice.” “I didn’t see it,” said Barry. “Did you――you didn’t happen to――I mean was my name down?” “Yours? No, of course not. Don’t you worry, Locke. I’ll bet a hat the Major will have you in the line-up before long. He’s got a crush on you, I guess. No offense, Locke. I’ll say you’ve got as much right there as Gissing or Allen.” “Allen!” exclaimed Barry. “You mean Clyde Allen?” “Sure. That’s the only Allen we’ve got, isn’t it? What’s so surprising?” “Gee! I wouldn’t like to――” Barry lapsed into troubled silence. “Oh, I see!” chuckled the substitute quarter. “Allen’s a side-kick of yours, isn’t he? Well, listen, kid: friendship ceases on the football field. If you can beat him for a half-back job you go ahead and do it as hard as you can. It’s up to him, Locke. I believe you can do it, too. He can’t punt, can he? I’ve never known him to, anyway.” Boardman chuckled. “Oh, boy! and wouldn’t it get his goat! Your friend Allen, Locke, thinks he’s a regular terror in the back-field. Some one ought to tell him to stop fancying himself and get to work.”