"It would have filled out your flat chest, professor, and it would have given you better arms and shoulders and legs. It would have made you a handsomer man, and it might have prevented your becoming sour and crabbed in your old age."
"Yah!" snarled Professor Gooch. "Are you trying to make sport of me, sir? If you are, I won’t stand it! I’m opposed to all this athletic nonsense, and I shall remain so. But, more than anything else, I am unalterably against favoritism, which is creeping into this school."
"I do not understand your meaning."
"I’ll make you understand. I have reliable information that a member of this school has been excused from drill in order that he might have time to practise with the football-team. What do you think of that, sir? Now, I think you’re surprised."
"He must be a very good football-player, else such a thing could not happen."
"What has that to do with it? Drill is a regular part of the course here, and football is something entirely foreign. I hold that no one should be excused from drill, much less a scholar who has just entered here. Such a course is bound to produce dissatisfaction and arouse protest. In fact, it has done so already—already, sir. I have in my pocket such a protest. It was that which brought me to you, and I hope you will do something about it. It is a protest against the excusing of Richard Merriwell from drill in order that he may practise with the football-team. There is much feeling over it. You can see what football has done here, sir—you can see."
Professor Gooch brought out the protest.
"Permit me to examine it," said Professor Gunn, adjusting his spectacles and taking the paper from the hand of the other. "Ah! I see there are only five names attached out of a very large class."
"That’s enough—that’s enough! It shows the feeling!"
"Um-mum!" came from Professor Gunn, as he read the protest. "I fancy I see something of a personal feeling in this."