CHAPTER XVIII
A PLOT AGAINST BILL
What rejoicing there was among the members of the nine and the supporters of the team! How the lads howled, their hoarse voices mingling with the shrill cries of the girls! Sober men danced around with their gray-haired seat-mates, and several “old grads” who had witnessed the contest jumped up and down pounding with their canes on the grandstand until it seemed as if the structure would collapse.
“Good boy, Cap!” cried Bill, clapping his brother on the back. “Good boy!”
“All to the horse radish,” added Pete.
“Oh, you fellows didn’t do so worse yourselves,” remarked John, as he tried to fight off a crowd that wanted to carry him on their shoulders.
He was unsuccessful, and a moment later was hoisted up, while a shouting, yelling, cheering procession marched around the grounds, singing some of the old school songs of triumph. It was a glorious victory.
It was fought all over again in the rooms of the boys that night, and the team was praised on all sides.