"Do you know this for a fact?" asked Swallows.
"Yes. It is said that he died on the field."
"Then he was a soldier?"
"No; a baseball umpire."
"This is a very dry crowd," laughed Browning.
"I should think you would say something," hinted Chadwick.
"It isn't in the house. We'll go down to Morey's after supper settles and I'll blow."
"To fizz?"
"Not this evening. Ale is good enough for this crowd."
"Oh, I don't suppose we can kick at that. But we were speaking about Merriwell and the freshman crew. How are we to escape death at their hands?"