Then arose an uproar on all sides. Fully three dozen fellows were shouting and gesticulating wildly to attract the attention and recognition of the chairman. Tony, unmindful of his ridiculous position, and intent upon being heard, scrambled to his knees, and, waving his arms beseechingly at the chairman, roared out at the top of his voice: “Mr. Chairman, have I the floor? Let me have the floor――Mr. Chairman, please let me have the floor for just five minutes.” Dick Palmer reached forward as well as he could for laughter, and touching Tony said, “I should think you had got enough of the floor, Tony. You’ve just had a whole back full of it.” Tony, however, did not hear him, but continued his appeals to the chairman. At length Edwards, who had been standing puzzled in the midst of the confusion, caught Tony’s eye, and brought down his ruler with a bang. “Mr. Larcom has the floor,” he called out. The rest subsided with some difficulty, and Tony was left master of the field for a time. He rose hastily and brushed off his clothes. Then, buttoning up his coat, he planted himself in front of his desk and launched out. “Mr. Chairman and gentlemen: the words we have just heard are a disgrace to any son of Belmont College. What does Mr. Howard mean by calling baseball to account? Have we a record to be ashamed of? True, we have been unfortunate in the last two years――every college has its bad spells――but why doesn’t Mr. Howard go back further? Doesn’t the gentleman remember that Belmont was the first college to win the Crimson Banner when it was made the trophy of the Berkshire League twelve years ago? Doesn’t he remember that Belmont held that banner for five consecutive years, lost it for three years, and then won it for two years more――that the name of the Belmont team has, therefore, seven times out of twelve been inscribed upon that banner in letters of gold? (Cheers.) And why did we lose last year? Not because we had a poor nine, but because it was not well handled. Every honest minded man in this room knows that we would have won the banner had we been headed by the efficient captain who leads us now. (Cheers.) And yet this gentleman wishes us to relinquish the game for a year. Does he realize that we thereby lay ourselves open to being refused admission to the League when we want to get back, and that Park College for one would be only too glad to get a chance to shut us out? Relinquish our nine? Never! I would rather lose my right hand than our nine. The speech we have just listened to is an insult to every patriotic man in college, and a double insult to the members of our old nine, and the able captain whose election we are here to ratify.” Immediately at the close of Tony’s speech, and while the applause was still sounding, Dick Palmer rose and tried to gain a hearing, but I caught him by the coat. “Sit down,” I whispered. “Don’t you see Elton is on the floor? He will use Howard up in two minutes.”