He stopped, not because he had run out of ideas, or was put to shame by the serious faces about him, but of simple necessity. A hand was pressed upon his lips and a strong arm embraced him from behind.
“Shut up, or I’ll break your ribs,” said Talbot, quietly. “We don’t want to hear from you at all. Harry’s the man. Go ahead, Harry. I’ll keep this fellow quiet.”
Harrison, thus encouraged, started on his report. “He wanted to know all about it, and we told him. He said it was an insult to the school which we must treat with dignified contempt. We’ve got to keep cool about it and not get crazy and shoot off a lot of wild talk. That would hurt us more than anything those fellows can say. He’s going to have Yards write to the two papers, and he’ll write to the head-master at Trowbridge.”
“They’ve called a meeting for Wednesday,” said Pete.
“Do you think Trowbridge will side with ’em?” asked Hardie.
“I hope not,” answered the captain, doubtfully.
“If they think they can beat us,” offered Cable, “Trowbridge will side with us, because if we beat Newbury and Trowbridge beat us, the worst that could come for Trowbridge would be a tie, even if they got beaten by Newbury.”
“How’s that?” demanded Reeves.
“It’s right. Think it out for yourself, and you’ll see,” said Talbot, impatiently.
“And if we get one vote from Trowbridge, and one goes against us,” continued Cable, encouraged by the attention given to his remarks, “we’re sure to lose our case. There would be two votes of Newbury and one of Trowbridge against us, and two of Westcott’s and one of Trowbridge for us. Then the president would vote against us.”