As he walked down his gaze was directed toward the gathering. Upon reaching the ground he paused. The lines on his good-natured face tightened when he saw the serenely smiling countenance of "Crackers" Brown. Aleck Parks found it convenient to avert his eyes from the glare which, a second later, fell upon him. He momentarily expected to hear a thunderous outburst. Captain Bunderley, however, showed no signs of recognition; and, without a word, resumed his walk. The students watched his big form swinging along the graveled path until it passed outside the ornamental gateposts. "I feel sure he's tried to do us," growled Parks. "Such an opinion is creditable to your power of discernment," said Brown. "Back to the field, boys. The show is over." On their way the coach called Benny Wilkins to his side. "Benny," he said, "thanks for telling us about this. Want a job?" "Not if there is any work to it." "I've too much sense to ask you if there was." "You put me in mind of a cannon cracker that hasn't been exploded," grunted Benny. "Fire away!" "Victor Collins has a pretty good line on what the captain says and does, hasn't he?" "Certainly!" "Well, if you find out just why the captain went to see Mr. Barry, and what brought him over to annoy President Hopkins and tell me I'll give you a new note-book." "The idea of asking me to act as a spy!" said Benny. "Outrageous! But I'll do it. Understand, of course, I don't like the job. What are crocodile tears, Brown? That's the kind somebody said you dropped every time the Ramblers play a game and are made to eat nothing but doughnuts." "I know there's a bunch of trouble-makers in this school, but that doesn't worry me," answered Brown. "If the regulars had been winning games I'd probably be half asleep now reading a book. Get busy, Ben. Report to me after practice." "All right. Please remember, 'Crackers,' I don't want any book that you've fished out of some waste-basket." Three-quarters of an hour later a slight boy wearing a large checkered cap, and who was intently watching the "Hopes," now hard at work, was approached by the grinning Wilkins. "Say, Benny, I haven't seen any of your articles in the 'Reflector' yet," began Victor Collins. "I guess you can't write worth beans." "My talents can't be measured by the bean standard," returned Benny. "They cost only six cents a quart. Look at Bush shooting 'em over home plate! Suppose your old Ramblers had to face pitching like that! Wouldn't they get bowled down in one, two, three order?" "Go on, Know-it-all!" snapped Victor. "I wonder what kind of a game Bush'll put up against Rockville Academy next Saturday. The inter-scholastic series begins then." Victor Collins grinned. "Funny little ideas seem to creep into that funny little noddle of yours," he remarked. "Neither Brown nor all the rest can bluff Bob Somers."