“We’ll go to our room,” he said, in an unruffled tone of voice. CHAPTER XI—BOUND BY A PROMISE A number of Dick’s friends had gathered in his room to discuss football matters. There was considerable excitement on the team. “Hi say has ’ow it’s a blooming mistake!” excitedly declared Billy Bradley, striking an attitude in the middle of the room, “We ’ave no business to play with those ’owling toffs, don’t y’ ’now!” “Oh, dear me!” piped up Ted Smart, who was sitting on the table. “How can you talk so, Sir William! I am surprised at you! Why, they are perfect gentlemen! Think how finely we were used the last time we were in Uniontown! It makes my heart thrill with pleasure to think of that occasion!” “Huah!” grunted big Bob Singleton. “I suppose you mean the only time we ever were in Uniontown, and that was when we played the U. A. A. that game of baseball last spring.” “That was a fuf-fuf-fuf-fuf-fuf——” spluttered Chip Jolliby, and then he stamped on the floor and made wild grabs in the air in his desperate endeavor to get hold of the word he was trying to utter. “Whistle, Chip!” cried several, laughing at his comical contortions. “Whew!” whistled Chip. “That was a fuf-fuf-fuf—whew!—fine old time! Why, they dud-drugged Dick, and we had to fuf-fuf-fuf—whew!—fight for our lives. We all sus-sus-sus-said we’ll never go there again.” “They’re coming here,” squeaked Obediah Tubbs. “We’ll jest wipe ’em all over the field, see if we don’t. Dern my picter! you watch me sail inter ’em!” “I’d like to play one clean game of football!” grunted Singleton, his face wearing a look of disgust. “I’m getting sick of this rough-house business. What do you say, Captain Merriwell?” Dick had been sitting quite still, as he listened to the talk of the others. He was standing with his elbow against the corner of the mantel-shelf. “Fellows,” he said, “we are in for it, as the athletic committee has decided to accept Uniontown’s offer to fill Rivermouth’s engagement. We’ll have to play the game.” “But that’s not saying what you think about it,” said big Bob. “Why were you not consulted about this change?” Dick shook his head. “I presume they thought it wasn’t necessary.” “You’re the manager of the team.” “But I do not arrange the schedule, you know.” “All the same, you should have some say about a change of this sort. What?” “It’s settled now,” said Dick, “and we’ll have to make the best of it. We trounced those fellows at baseball last spring, for all of their tricks.” “Bub-bub-bub-but it was a close sus-sus-sus-shave,” put in Jolliby. “They pup-pup-pup-pup—whew!—played all kuk-kinds of dirty tricks to beat us.” “And this ain’t no school team,” put in Tubbs. “It’s a so-called athletic club team, and they kin be as dirty as they please. I’m agin’ playing ’em.” “And I!” repeated several others.