"No," said Uric, "you are the one to sign first, as you do not room with Merriwell."
There was some argument over this matter, but Zeb seized the pen at last and wrote his name with a flourish. Scudder followed, his handwriting being rather hazy. Then Watson tried to get out of signing until more names were added to the paper, but Fletcher and Scudder would not listen, and he was compelled to be third on the list.
Then came an argument as to who should take the paper and seek more signers. At last, in exasperation, Fletcher snatched it up, exclaiming:
"I’ll do it! I know a few fellows who will back us up, anyhow. We ought to have the whole class; but some fellows will be afraid to put their names to anything like this. All the same, there are several on the football-team that played the regular eleven that first game who are sore because they were not given a trial on the eleven, and we’ll get them. Oh, there are more ways than one of making things warm for Mr. Dick Merriwell!"
The trio broke up in great satisfaction.
CHAPTER III.
THE TWO PROFESSORS.
Professor Barnaby Gooch, thin, wrinkled, crabbed, and bald, rapped sharply on the door of Professor Zenas Gunn’s private study. As the knock was not answered at once, Professor Gooch rapped again, sharply, nervously, and in a manner that denoted irritation. Then he pushed the door open and walked in.
Professor Gunn, dignified, old-fashioned, yet kindly in appearance, stepped from behind a screen and came forward. Before he could speak, however, Professor Gooch rasped forth:
"I’ve nearly beaten the skin from my knuckles rapping on your door. Are you deaf, professor—are you deaf, sir?"
"I hope not, professor," was the answer.