But the human throats were no match for the tin ones, and, though the Baxter students cheered loyally, the horns drowned them.
During this demonstration, Hal, Sandow, the headmaster, the instructors, those of the alumni who were allowed on the diamond, and the rest of the Baxter team and substitutes, and the entire squad of Landon players, watched Bronson intently to see whether or not he showed any signs of nervousness.
But the tall, awkward boy was the least excited of them all.
With a grin on his face, he stared at the Landon side of the field, and then turned toward Hal.
"They seem to be after my scalp," he chuckled.
"And we'll get it, too!" shouted several of Landon's alumni who were close at hand, looking Bronson over.
"I don't see any one who looks like an Indian on your nine," he retorted good-naturedly, while the Baxter alumni slapped one another on the back, assuming each "the kid would do." For they, and the Landon grads as well, realized that if Bronson did not allow the taunts that would be hurled at him to arouse his anger, he would be less likely to get rattled.
Among the Baxter alumni who had been looking Bronson over was Jack Hastings, who had pitched his nine to one victory the year before.
"I suppose Hal has told you what kind of balls the Landon veterans like," he said, approaching the boy.
"Yes, I think I know all I can without actually facing them," Bronson replied.