He was seized unceremoniously by a dozen pairs of hands, and half dragged, half carried, to the desk. There he stood a moment, laughing and kicking, until he was released, when he sobered down, took out his note book, and seated himself at a small desk in front of the platform, ready for business. I made my way to the front row where Dick Palmer had reserved a place for me with considerable difficulty, by sitting in one seat and putting his feet in the next one. At this moment Clinton Edwards, who had been asked by Tony to open the meeting, went upon the platform and summoned the crowd to order by hammering on the desk with a heavy ruler. As all were intensely interested in the subject for which the meeting was called, the room soon became perfectly still. CHAPTER II SHALL WE JOIN THE LEAGUE? “Gentlemen,” began Clinton Edwards, “as you are all aware, this meeting has been called for the purpose of considering baseball matters. At the close of last year’s season the nine held its customary annual meeting, and the usual elections of secretary and captain were made for the ensuing year. It now remains with you to approve and ratify these elections, and, in that event, the captain, as has been our custom heretofore, becomes also president of the association. The names of these officers were announced in the _Chronicle_ at the time of their election, as you doubtless remember, but I will repeat them. Mr. Larcom was elected secretary――――” The speaker paused a moment, when some one in the back of the room called out, “I forbid the banns!” The meeting was in an uproar at this. Laughter, stamping of feet, and shouts of “Bully boy!” “Hi, hi for Tony!” threatened to destroy the secretary’s gravity. Rising, note book in hand, he said, “Mr. Chairman, I rise to a point of information. Do I enter these remarks in the minutes?” Edwards, ignoring the point, continued: “The captaincy, which was made vacant by the graduation of Mr. Terry, was filled by the election of Mr. Wendell.” There was now a long and uproarious burst of applause. Cheer followed cheer as the name was announced. A more popular man than Ray Wendell rarely passed through Belmont College. Bright and industrious in his studies, active and strong in athletics, generous, good humored, and with agreeable and fascinating manners Ray had been my ideal of a college man since Freshman year. As he rose modestly from his seat in answer to the repeated cheers, I thought I had never seen him look handsomer. His tall, graceful figure and fine face never appeared to better advantage than at that moment as he blushingly acknowledged the applause that greeted his name. Several times he attempted to speak, but the continued cheering discouraged his effort. At length silence was obtained, when Ray said smilingly, and quickly turning attention from himself: