It was a weak effort and even Hopkins himself seemed to realize the fact. There was some scant applause and then some one called “Langton! What’s he say? Where’s Langton?” and Rob got to his feet and faced the meeting with a confident smile on his face. “All I’ve got to say,” he announced, “is that we think we’ve got a team that can put it all over the School Eleven. You fellows have seen us play and you know pretty well what we can do. Whether we could beat Adams I don’t know, but I think we could. Anyway, we’d like mighty well to try. For our part we’re more than willing to play the School Team on Saturday, or any other day they like, and abide by the results. If they win let them play Adams, if we win let us do it. Seems to me that’s fair. We all want to win that game, and I don’t see that it’s going to matter much whether the Independents or the School Team turn the trick. The main thing is to get revenge on Adams for the drubbings she’s been giving us.” “Do I understand,” asked Wellington, when he could make himself heard, “that Hopkins refuses to play the Independents?” There was a moment of silence, and then Prentiss sprang to his feet. “No,” he cried, “he doesn’t. We’ll play the Independents on Saturday and show you fellows which is the better. And then, perhaps, you’ll be satisfied and quit trying to queer things. All I’ve got to say is that this school has got a mighty funny idea of how to go about to win a foot-ball victory! If you’d stand by your team instead of trying to bust it up――” But he wasn’t allowed to get any farther and the meeting broke up in confusion. “Well, we’ve done it,” chuckled Rob as he tossed his cap across the room. Malcolm closed the door of 32 and then the transom. Evan looked at him inquiringly. “Prentiss prowls around a good deal,” he explained, “and if the transom’s open you can hear beautifully.” “What he would hear outside this door wouldn’t matter, I guess,” said Rob. “Gee, fellows, I’m tickled. I thought we might get this far next Fall but I never dreamed we’d do it now. If we beat them we play Adams. Think of that, Evan, you unenthusiastic beggar!” “I’m thinking of it,” answered Evan. [Illustration: “THE MEETING BROKE UP IN CONFUSION.”] “‘I’m thinking of it!’” mimicked Rob. “Well, why don’t you _say_ something? Why don’t you――why don’t you do something? I don’t expect any signs of emotion from Mal; he’s the original human icicle; if Peary had seen him first he’d have saved himself a long trip. But you might at least look interested.” “I’m just wondering what’s going to happen to us Saturday,” Evan replied. “It’s all well enough to talk, Rob, but those fellows have it on us in lots of ways.” “Well, how, Mr. Gloom?” “In size and weight, for one thing.” “Yes, that’s one weigh,” Malcolm interpolated. Evan threw a blue book at him, but missed. “Yes, they have us there,” said Rob, “but we even that up by speed. Go ahead.”