“Gentlemen, you forget that you have not yet decided to be represented in the Berkshire League. You have first to vote on the question: do we send out a nine?” “We scarcely need put that question,” said a student, as Ray sat down. “It has been only a form in past years, and I move, therefore, Mr. Chairman, that we approve these elections――――” “One moment, Mr. Chairman,” broke in a voice from the back of the room. “Mr. Pratt has the floor,” said Edwards. “I have finished,” said Pratt. “My motion is before the meeting.” It was seconded at once by a dozen voices. Then the speaker at the back of the room rose slowly. It was Len Howard, a Senior, and a prominent lawn tennis player. He looked and acted as if he had a hard and ugly task before him. “Have I the floor now?” he asked. “You have,” answered Edwards. “Then before putting this question I beg to say a few words,” and Howard settled himself more firmly on his feet, while most of us looked at him in surprise. “I am a warm admirer of baseball, as warm an admirer as there is in college. But I am also a warm admirer of tennis, and it is in behalf of this latter game that I want to speak. I beg to call attention to the respective records of Belmont College in these two sports. Year before last our baseball team amounted to little――stood third in the League, last year we were again third, and this year we have but three players of the old nine left us, and prospects of a still poorer record. Lawn tennis, on the other hand, without any encouragement from the college, has grown steadily in popularity and success, and today it can send crack players to the intercollegiate tournaments which take place in May. Its prospects are bright, and it deserves the college support. Now, Mr. Chairman and gentlemen, should we not cultivate the sport in which we stand the best show of success? Last year the assistance of the college was promised to tennis, but the funds were appropriated by the ball team, or at least the ball team used up all the money the college could contribute, and with the poor results just mentioned. As the college apparently will not extend its support to both, and it comes to a choice between tennis and baseball, I think we ought to give tennis the show it deserves for one year at least. I think we ought to support tennis with our funds, and not join the Berkshire Baseball League this year.” Ray Wendell sprang up, his face flushed and his eyes flashing. “Mr. Chairman, if this represents the sentiments of the college toward baseball――if this echoes the feelings of even one tenth of the students, I resign from the nine immediately.” There was a hush of several seconds’ duration, during which the rest of us sat confounded with amazement at the audacity of Howard. Suddenly the silence was broken. “Great Scott!” exclaimed Tony Larcom, and his chair toppled over backward, precipitating him with a crash upon the floor.