“These cadets, gentlemen, represent the student body, and are here to speak for themselves. As you remember, at the last meeting it was decided that the school was not to play Dimsdale, now or ever, according to Mr. Gates. I passed that message on to the corps, but it seems that they refuse, for once, to accept the decision.”
Melvin Gates straightened up in his chair and shot a bitter look toward the stalwart cadets. “Oh, they refuse to accept it, do they?” he said, in a rasping voice.
The colonel looked at Hudson, who spoke up in reply. “Yes, Mr. Gates, the student body refuses to accept the decision. We are taught good sportsmanship here at Woodcrest and the doctrine that men are to be met and treated like men. We feel that it is unfair to brand the Dimsdale school of today with the stigma of a set of rowdies of the past, so we are here to respectfully protest the ban against playing them.”
“I don’t care what you are here to protest!” shouted Gates, rising in excitement. “I have refused to give my sanction to this game, or to the proposition of renewing any kind of relations with Dimsdale school, and I will not retract one word of it.”
“It is most unfortunate that you feel that way, sir,” replied the senior Cadet Captain. “For we are going to play them as soon as possible!”
There was a gasp from the assembled trustees and Gates’ face reddened. He snapped around on the silent headmaster.
“Morrell, are you going to allow this to go on?” he demanded.
“I do not see that I can do anything about it,” said the colonel. “It is the fervent wish of the entire corps that we play Dimsdale, and I am heartily in favor of it myself.”
“You know what this will mean to the school!” cried the angry Gates. “I will resign and withdraw every cent of my money.”
“I should be sorry to see you do that, Mr. Gates,” returned the colonel. “But I am not going to thwart my boys any longer.”