“No; I received it only two hours ago in the late afternoon mail. Come up to Burke Hall, and we will have some fun with it. Watch the sensation when I read it to the boys in the mass meeting.” Closing the side door of the boat house, Tony padlocked it, and we started back again toward the campus. “Have you seen Ray Wendell this afternoon?” I asked. “No; but of course he will be on hand. What would a baseball meeting be without Ray Wendell? By the way, what a scare he gave me last month when he hinted about resigning the captaincy.” “That was a queer notion. What started it, I wonder?” “He said he was afraid it would interfere with his studies, especially his preparation for his final examinations.” “Bosh!” “Well, you know he is working for one of the honorary orations at commencement, and he said he would have to work hard, for there is to be a good deal of competition this year.” “Nonsense, Wendell is sure of an oration, and probably the valedictory. There isn’t a smarter man in the Senior class. There is no reason why baseball should interfere at all.” “Certainly not. If we are to have a winning team this year it will only be with Ray Wendell as captain――and so I told him. I showed him that all the fellows looked to him, and the college reputation rested in his hands. That soon brought him to terms, and he has never mentioned the matter since. I can’t help thinking, however, that there was more back of that freak of his than he said.” “He knows as well as the rest of us how necessary he is to the nine,” I rejoined. “And for that very reason I think something must have influenced him. At first I thought perhaps his father had asked him to give up baseball, but then I remembered that Mr. Wendell always seemed to be as proud of Ray’s athletics as he was of his high rank in his class. Still, I don’t care, now that he has let the matter drop.” “What is that crowd doing outside of Burke Hall?” I asked. “Do you suppose that old Ferguson has forgotten to unlock the Latin room door?” “Looks like it,” said Tony. “Still he must be there, for the windows are bright. He must be lighting up now.” The question was promptly settled, for, while we were speaking there was a sudden outburst of cheers, and the crowd surged into the building. The doors had evidently just been opened. Pandemonium reigned within as we entered. The room was crowded to suffocation with a noisy, jostling mass of students. Every seat was full, and many of the boys were standing along the side walls. The din was almost deafening. Suddenly Tony Larcom’s presence was detected and immediately his name was on every one’s lips. “There’s Tony. Take the chair, Tony. Pass him up to the platform, fellows.”