"I suppose you will not come again, sir?" ventured Professor Ivins. "I most certainly shall," answered Mr. Barry. "But I hope to goodness I'll see a more cheering sight on the next occasion." The boys who happened to hear these remarks told their companions. As fast as though the air had wafted the words from one point to another the school had them on the tip of its tongue. And they grew in importance in the process of traveling about. "Never mind, fellows," remarked Bob Somers, as they gathered in the gymnasium. "There are two more games with the Stars before the inter-scholastic championship begins." A boy rushing wildly into the doorway attracted his attention. "Hello, Benny! What's up?" drawled Dave Brandon. "An awful lot!" cried Wilkins, breathlessly. "What do you think? Luke Phelps just told me he heard that Mr. Barry said he was so disgusted he thought of withdrawing his offer--honest fact. Say, Brandon, does that article of mine have to be typewritten?" "I'm not so sure the 'Reflector' will touch very heavily on recent sporting matters," answered Dave, smiling. "Is Phelps in the room?" Tom Clifton's gruff voice rose clearly. "Sure! Just came in. What's the row?" answered a voice. "Who told you what Mr. Barry said?" Phelps pushed his way between the groups toward the players. "Everybody. No one caught his exact words, but they must have been something pretty hot. There are enough rumors floating around to hurt your eyes if they could be seen. It's been a fierce day, hasn't it?" When Tom Clifton walked home that evening he passed the field for the use of which the club was fighting. It had never looked more alluring. He stopped to gaze over its broad green expanse with wistful eyes. His glances wandered from one no-trespassing sign to another. They looked much more formidable now than they ever had before. "Great Scott!" murmured Tom. "What a beginning--four to nothing!" CHAPTER VIII DISCOURAGEMENT The sting of defeat lasted for some time with the students of the Kingswood High. The friends of the Stars crowed loudly over their victory; and Tom Clifton, whose boasting previous to the game had annoyed so many, received a generous share of sarcastic flings. The disquieting rumors which resulted from Mr. Barry's remarks hovered over the school with unpleasant persistency. "Honest, Bob, it wasn't fair of him to pitch into the crowd at the very first crack of the bat," exclaimed Tom, morosely, in the gym a few days later. "Nobody seems to know just what he did say," chuckled Bob. "Don't worry, Tom, old boy," said Dave. "Athletes should keep their minds free from care." "Wonder if I hadn't better go and see him?" mused Tom. "Goodness, no!" "Well, here's the latest." "Wait till I get my note-book," cried Benny. "Three forty-five P. M. 'The latest--as told by Mr. Clifton.' Go ahead, Tom." Tom scowled fiercely.