“I have been asked,” announced Sears, “in the absence of――of anyone as obliging, to explain the purpose of this meeting. First off, though, I want to say that I take no sides in this business. I’m neutral.” Some laughter and applause greeted this. “As I understand it,” he went on, “we are here to talk over the football situation and, possibly, take steps to improve it. Just now the first thing to do is, I presume, to appoint a chairman. Nominations are in order.” “I nominate Toby Sears,” said some one. “Second it!” called another voice. “You’ve heard the motion, fellows. Those in favor will say ‘Aye,’ opposed, ‘No.’ The ayes have it. It is a vote.” Sears left his place on the floor and ascended the platform, taking his seat behind the small table in the center. “Now, gentlemen, what is your pleasure?” CHAPTER XVII THE INDIGNATION MEETING For a minute no one accepted the invitation, and chuckles of amusement came from the rear of the hall where the younger fellows were foregathered. Finally, “Go to it, Carter!” called one of the irrepressibles, and Ned Carter, a serious-visaged Junior arose slowly to his feet. “Carter,” said Sears in recognition. “Mr. Chairman and fellows,” began Carter, “a lot of us fellows aren’t at all satisfied with the way things are going. I mean about football. Our team has played five games so far and it’s been licked three times. We want to know what the reason is.” Applause was instantaneous, and the speaker, encouraged, thrust his hands in his trousers pockets and went on with more assurance. “We started out all right, as you all know. We didn’t have any trouble beating Highland Hall. Then we got a coach and――and things haven’t gone so well. I haven’t got anything against the coach personally. None of us have. We know him and we think he’s a fine fellow. But it stands to reason that a fellow who has never played football and never coached a team before isn’t the best sort of a fellow to coach for us. I’m not saying it’s his fault that we’ve made such a poor showing so far, but I do think it’s somebody’s fault. A lot of us fellows――――” “You s-s-said that b-b-before,” called Fudge in a voice audible to most of the gathering, and a ripple of amusement started and was met by hisses and cries of “Shut up!” and “Put him out!” Carter proceeded doggedly. “A lot of us fellows want to know whose fault it is. That’s why this meeting was called. And what I say is, let’s talk it over and find out what’s best to be done and――and do it.” Carter subsided amidst applause, some of it ironic, and the tall and lanky Bingham sought recognition. Bingham had a smirk on his face, and those who knew him best expected something particularly disagreeable from him. Nor were they disappointed.