"Come to order, please," begged Dick. "Any one who calls names is out of order. It's bad practice."
"Who asked you to run this meeting, anyway, Dick Prescott?" snapped Martin.
"No one in particular, and I'm willing you should preside if you want to, Martin."
"The Centrals ain't any better stuff than the Souths," observed one of the Norths slightingly.
"Cut that out!" cried Dave, his eyes flashing. He stepped forward, looking for the fellow who had made the remark.
"I call upon the North Grammar delegation to step aside and confer for a few minutes," announced Hi. He led his own schoolmates some two hundred feet away.
"Say, the whole scheme's gone to pieces," grumbled Tom Reade disgustedly.
"Wait, and we'll see," answered Prescott hopefully.
The North Grammar boys talked matters over among themselves for two or three minutes.
"There, see!" grumbled Greg. "Hi Martin is leading his crowd away. They're all quitters!"