By this time there was a general and hilarious interest in the development of Wilmot’s suggestion which rendered impossible all serious discussion of the morning’s announcement. Foolish jesting became epidemic, and wit soon ran into silliness. Two boys showed no disposition to share in the levity. Harrison smiled but rarely, and then feebly and against his will; Talbot’s scowl grew deeper and blacker as Wilmot’s fancy spread from the centre, where it had originated, out into the ranks of the clumsy-wits who seized upon it with rough hands, tossed it to and fro, squeezed it dry of whatever freshness and cleverness it might have contained, and dropped it in ennui for some new catchword ten minutes later. The bystanders drifted forth for a walk, the sixth ran into the yard and played goat tag, the pursuer being the goat. “I wish you wouldn’t say that kind of thing, Steve,” began Harrison, when the coast was clear. “It hurts the team to make sport of it or any one on it.” Wilmot opened his eyes. “I didn’t make sport of it. I just offered a suggestion. You don’t have to take it, if you don’t want to.” “We’ve got to have the respect and support of the school if we are going to do anything,” went on Harrison, trying to be sensible and keep his temper. “All that talk about goats makes the team ridiculous.” “It puts everything to the bad right at the beginning of the season,” broke in Talbot, roughly. “If you want to spoil all our chances, just keep it up. You don’t care, of course, as long as you get your fun out of it, but the rest of us have a little school spirit left and a little self-respect!” “Who introduced the subject, anyway?” demanded Wilmot, triumphantly. “It was you that did it, and it was you that called the team goats. I just built on your suggestion.” “I won’t argue it,” answered Pete, savagely. “You’d twist my words against me. But just try the goat business with the crew, and see what you’ll get. Harry may put up with it if he wants to. I wouldn’t!” “Now you’re getting peevish.” Wilmot rose from the table, still keeping his smile of indifference, but by no means content at heart. “I don’t like you when you’re peevish!” The bell rang; the boys came flocking in and crowded up the stairway. Harrison took Tracy’s arm as they leisurely followed the stream. “Isn’t that new fellow at Adams’s coming out?” “Who? Hardie?” “Yes. He sat opposite us at luncheon to-day with the kids and didn’t peep.” “He hasn’t said much to any one yet. He’ll be out to-day if he gets his clothes.” “Do you think he’ll be good for anything?” pursued the captain, anxiously. “We need about six more good men.” Tracy gave his chin a side tip that might have expressed doubt, or merely reserve of judgment. “I don’t know. He isn’t very heavy, but if you’d seen him chucking trunks around this morning, you’d think him fairly strong.” “Trunks?” “Yes, we piled a few in front of his door last night.”