“The amount contributed,” announced Prentiss with thinly veiled sarcasm, “is eighty dollars and sixty cents. I want to thank the generous donor of that ten cent piece if he will stand up where I can see him.” The audience laughed, but no one arose. “Of course,” continued Prentiss, “there’s no necessity for me to tell you that you haven’t subscribed much more than half enough money. But that’s your look-out, I guess. If you don’t want a decent team, why, you’re going the right way to get what you do want. To those that have contributed generously――and a few have――I offer thanks. The meeting is over.” “It’s better than I thought it would be,” chuckled Rob as they pushed their way through the throng at the door. “A long ways eighty dollars will take them!” “What do you suppose they’ll do?” asked Evan. “I guess they’ll go broke. Probably make their last year’s uniforms do instead of getting new ones. It’s all nonsense, anyway, for Prentiss to say that they have to have a hundred and fifty dollars. A good manager could get along with not much more than half of that. I guess they’ll have to this year.” “Oh, they’ll probably call another meeting,” said Malcolm, “or send around canvassers to get after the fellows who haven’t contributed.” “They don’t know who have contributed and who haven’t,” said Rob, “aside from those who signed their names to pledges. All a fellow would have to do when a canvasser tackled him would be to say that he gave cash at the meeting to-night.” “That’s so,” Malcolm agreed. “I sort of wish I’d given another dollar,” mused Evan. “I’d like to see the team wallop Adams, and if they need money to be able to do that it seems as though they ought to have it.” “It isn’t money they need,” said Rob, “but some good players, a decent captain and manager and somebody to show them football. If Hop would engage a coach he could get all the money he needed, and more too. The trouble with those two chaps is that they’ve got it into their heads that _they_ are the Riverport Football Team. They want to do it all themselves. Even if Hop got a coach he’d be always interfering and I guess Mr. Coach would stay about one week. Then he’d kick Hop and get out.” “This is Hopkins’ last year, isn’t it?” Evan asked. “Yes, praises be! And Prentiss’s, too.” “Who will be captain next year, then?” “I don’t know. Hop and Prentiss will arrange that between them. I think, though, that Joe Law is getting into line for the honor. Or maybe the mantle will descend upon Miller.” “But don’t they hold an election?” “Sort of a one. It’s all fixed beforehand, though. Hop will tell the fellows whom he wants elected and they’ll vote as he tells them to. It’s rather a farce. The whole thing’s a farce. But we’re going to change it, fellows.” “Are we?” laughed Malcolm. “And how are we going to do it?” Rob shook his head mysteriously. “You wait and see,” he answered.