Coach Connover must have been able to translate that code and to approve its meaning, for the next forenoon Bi Longwell knocked at Number 17 West Hall and, finding the room empty, tore a leaf from a pocket memorandum book, scrawled on it with his fountain pen and set it prominently against the base of the electric lamp on the study table. And there Clif found it a half-hour later. After having perused its brief message twice, the first time with utter incredulity, the second time with amazed delight, he laid it reverently down on the table, thrust both hands into the pockets of his capacious knickers and grinned expansively about the room. Then he said “_Gosh!_” very softly, almost reverently. “_What do you know?_” Finally he picked up the slip of paper again and bore it to the window and, after viewing it back and front, read the words once more. “Bingham: Report to Coach Connover at 4. Longwell.” CHAPTER XVIII WYNDHAM WINS Possibly the school janitor remained behind in Cotterville that Saturday, but certainly every one else connected with Wolcott Academy made the journey to Freeburg. Oh, well, of course the Principal didn’t come, and a few of the other members of the faculty may have been absent, but no one missed them. The invading horde arrived by train and by motor, flaunting brown banners bearing the white Old English W, brown arm-bands, brown megaphones and brown ties. It took possession of the town’s few lunch rooms and overflowed from the Inn. It wandered about the streets and over the school grounds in bunches of two or more, slightly patronizing, high-spirited and extremely confident. And at two o’clock it filled the third base stand and ran over onto the turf where it occupied a few settees filched from the gymnasium or disposed itself on the ground. By that time eight pitchers had warmed up in spite of the well-known fact that Ogden, for Wyndham, and Osterman, for Wolcott, were to start the engagement. When, at a few minutes after two of a cloudy, somewhat muggy afternoon, the Dark Blue trotted into the field Jeff Ogden went to the mound and the other three Wyndham pitchers retired to the bench. Save that Risley was catching, the Wyndham team was the same aggregation that had been beaten a week before by Horner. One Clifton Bingham, recently recruited member of the squad, sat very comfortably in the shade of the first base stand and had nothing to do save look on and enjoy the game. In view of which it may seem strange that his countenance expressed nothing that looked like appreciation!