Bob Somers and Dave Brandon lingered until the crowd had cleared away; then Dave, with a sigh of relief, ambled toward the big elm. "That place seems to be just made for me," he said. "While I'm taking a well-earned rest, Bob, I'd advise you to glance over B. Franklin Wilkins' article." "Just what I'm going to do," chuckled the captain, as he opened the paper. Tom, laying aside his manners for the time being, looked eagerly over his shoulder to read: "_B. Franklin Wilkins on the baseball situation. With his observations on the past and predictions for the future._ "This has been a season of blasted 'Hopes.' They started out meaning well, and, 'for the good of the school,' withdrew. It is little things like this which break the monotony of student life, though for a time it looked as if something more valuable than monotony would be broken. "As I have frequently said in my articles, none of which, however, have been printed--this is no reflection on the editor; lack of judgment is born in some people--the beginning of the season found a lot of wildcat hunters, would-be aeroplanists and house-boat racers trying to play ball. "This is, as Shakespeare was too far behind the times to say, 'the limit.' It was up to the limit of what the school could stand. After hitting the top of the toboggan with a dull and deadly thug they started to slide down, the rasping sound which accompanied them being furnished gratis by nearly every boy in school. "At the bottom of the chute they accepted an invitation from Daniel Brown and friends to take a well-earned rest--'for the good of the school.' My observation on monotony and breaking things applies mostly to this case. Wildcat fighters are often very tame at home, which is conceded to be a good thing. "What would have happened if they had brought their 'forest' manners back to the school you can imagine by reading a serial now being published in the 'Reflector.' "Just as they were about to get the final boost Mr. Rupert Barry appeared and handed something to Mr. Daniel Brown which sounded like a cannon cracker going off in an empty barrel. "That's when the 'Hopes' got blasted. "Since then the Rambler Club's ball nine--I've ordered the editor not to cut out the name--has been going from victory to victory in exactly the same manner they were boasting about before any playing was done. "You can't blame a lot of fellows for making a great blow when they have the goods in the shop. They had just been mislaid, and not even the manager could find them. "But the excitement during the search was something awful. The writer's efforts to be on both sides at the same time nearly ruined his nervous system. He found himself, at times, delivering punches impartially to either side.