“Carter,” began Bingham, “says somebody is to blame for the way things have been going and that we ought to find out who it is. Seems to me it isn’t very hard to find out. We’ve got as good a lot of players as we’ve ever had, I guess. You all saw what they did to Highland Hall, the first of the season, before there was any interference. The team was all right then. Then they went and got a coach, and what happened?” Bingham paused impressively. “Tell us, little one, what did happen,” pleaded a falsetto voice from the far side of the hall. Bingham frowned at the unseemly mirth which ensued at this witticism and hastened to forestall further interruptions. “Since we have had our _coach_――” and his emphasis on the word was unpleasantly sarcastic――“we’ve played five games against weak teams and been beaten in three of them! I guess we ought to be thankful we haven’t got _two_ coaches. If we had we might have been beaten in all of them!” The effort at humor aroused a few uncertain chuckles. “I say it isn’t hard to place the blame for the punk condition of our team, and it isn’t, either. The fellows are all right. They do as they are told. The trouble is the fellow who tells them what to do doesn’t know his business. He’s had no experience. He never played a game of football in his life. He couldn’t because――――” “Shame!” cried the girls, and some of the audience hissed. Sears rapped his knuckles smartly on the table. “The meeting will come to order,” he said severely. “And I must warn the speaker that personalities must be kept out of this discussion.” “Mr. Chairman, I am speaking of the football coach. If we can’t discuss the coach what’s the good of this meeting? Besides, I see that he is here in person to answer for himself. I suppose he thought that if he came we wouldn’t dare criticize him. If he thought that he is dead wrong. We have a right to protest against his haphazard, ridiculous system of coaching and to demand that he either show results or yield his position to some one else, some one who at least knows the difference between a touchdown and a head-guard!” “Nominate Bingham for coach!” shouted a small youth in the back of the hall and this time the laughter was spontaneous and prolonged, so prolonged, in spite of the chairman’s stern demands for order, that Bingham, who evidently intended to say more, hesitated and finally sat down.