"Oh, you think you're mighty smart!" cried Tom. "But if your specs weren't so blurred with conceit you'd see that you're going too far." "I suppose this is a little prelude to the show," said the coach, pleasantly. "It's a bad thing for ball players to get overheated before the umpire begins his chirp. Please oblige me: run away and cool off." "Two forty-five P. M. A ball player advised to run away and cool off," piped Benny Wilkins, suddenly. "What's the best way, Mr. Brown--shower bath or----?" "You're the meanest little duffer in the whole school!" cried Tom, turning upon him wrathfully. "It's a wonder you have the nerve to show your face inside the door!" "Well, I like that!" snorted Benny. "Now what's up?" "Oh, you thought you could keep it quiet. But I found out, just the same." "Found out what?" "Why, it was you who said that mean thing about Mr. Barry planting corn on his field!" fairly exploded Tom. "You ought to be ashamed to look me in the face." Benny was aghast. "What--what?" he stammered. "I don't wonder you can hardly speak," went on Tom, fiercely. "Hardly speak?" interposed "Crackers." "Why, if you're not careful, he'll let off such a blast that we'll all get blown down flat." "Well, suppose I did say it! It was all a joke!" admitted Benny. "A fine joke!" jeered Tom. "Didn't it make Mr. Barry so mad that he almost felt like withdrawing his offer? Oh, I know all about it!" The look of embarrassment faded from Benny's eyes, to be replaced by an expression of blazing anger. "I don't care if you do," he roared. "And I know something about you, too, that ought to make you chuck off that uniform and beat it back to Kingswood." "Get out!" snapped Tom. "You don't know anything, and never could know anything. That wooden head-piece of yours wouldn't hold it." "You haven't got anything on me, 'Vanitas!'" Benny Wilkins stalked forward, planting himself directly before the tall first baseman. "I don't, eh?" he cried. "Just listen to this: one day in the gym you called Mr. Barry an eccentric old creature--you know you did." Tom's face flushed a deeper crimson. "Well--well?" he demanded. "And Mr. Barry heard about that, too! I got it from a fellow who knows. And maybe he wasn't riled!--said he wished he'd never made the confounded offer." "I--I don't believe it," gasped Tom. "Ask Victor Collins, then. You will try to sit on me, 'Vanitas'--you will, eh?" "If Mr. Barry heard about it, I'll bet you told him yourself!" howled Tom, thoroughly angry. "You're small in every way, Benny Wilkins. Bob Somers and Steele caught you spying." "You mean that I caught 'em trying to sneak into Mr. Barry's without being seen," retorted Benny. "I never said a word to Mr. Barry. But if you get too fresh with me, 'Vanitas,' he's going to learn the name of the particular chap who made such an interesting remark; that's the only thing he doesn't know. Now--will that hold you for a minute?"