An eager crowd of freshmen, juniors, sophomores and seniors flocked at their heels, their faces showing a degree of expectancy which indicated that something was up. "Mr. Steele," began "Crackers," in deliberate tones, "the event of yesterday must still be fresh in your mind. You saw us play the Engletons, I believe?" The coach nodded. "Crackers" calmly paused to wipe his glasses. "Before I go any further I want it understood that we're not wishing to make any trouble in the school." "Like fun you're not!" burst out Tom Clifton. "From the very first----" "Quit it, Tom!" commanded Dave Brandon. "Let's hear what Brown has to say." "Put a doughnut in his mouth!" cried Benny Wilkins. "Stop your noise, fellows," insisted Brown. "We came here on serious business. Mr. Steele, the school has been patient; it has given you every chance to make good. What has been the result? Six straight defeats, and a mysterious hurry call from Mr. Barry. We all know how dissatisfied he is." "He talks like a senator," snickered Victor Collins. "Most of 'em never reach the point." "Be patient, my young friend in the checkered cap," went on Brown. "Mr. Steele, the school couldn't stand by and see a grand chance for getting a ball field and stand slip away." "And it doesn't propose to!" cried Owen Lawrence. "We have a proposition--a fair proposition: play us a series of games, and let whichever club wins represent the school. This is no time for stubbornness. Personal ambition has no place at such an important epoch in the history of the Kingswood High." As the leader of the "outlaws" paused a lively rattle of tongues began. Excited students cheered, or voiced their protests until the room echoed with a noisy din. "Don't do it, Steele; don't do it!" cried one. "The whole bunch ought to be thrown out of the school!" shouted a second. "You're away off. Brown's the best friend the Kingswood High ever had!" exclaimed another, hotly. "Crackers" looked at the excited groups about him with as much unconcern as though reciting in the class room. "Order--order!" yelled Lawrence. "What do you say, Steele?" The coach was visibly annoyed--even angry. He shot a swift, questioning glance at Bob Somers, then turned to face Dan Brown. "Your request should have been made in proper form to the athletic association, Brown," he said, coolly. "If you choose, you can carry the matter to them. Personally, I must emphatically decline to comply with your wishes. What do you say, fellows?" He addressed the members of the nine. A unanimous "No!" cut crisply above the buzz of conversation. "I thought so!" exclaimed Owen Lawrence, fiercely. "Afraid, eh? Have to crawl? We want the whole school to know it." "Not so fast, Lawrence," protested Brown. "I'm sure Mr. Steele is open to reason. What's the use of all this red tape about athletic associations? Rules may be all right in their way; but there are times when they had better be thrown on the scrap heap."