“Speech, speech,” yelled a diminutive Freshman.
“Speech,” howled the delighted students, enjoying his embarrassment. Larry, his face redder than his hair, struggled, protested and kicked, but was carried bodily to the steps, and placed upon the stone coping.
“Fellows,” he stammered, twisting with embarrassment, “I’m all embarrassed”——
“Who would have guessed it?” yelled little Turner, raising a laugh.
“Fellows,” Larry repeated, “I’m flabbergasted. This is all news to me. I can’t realize that I’m appointed captain. Maybe it’s a joke”——
“No, no!” cried several. “The committee decided upon a student manager and student control.”
“All I can say,” concluded Larry lamely, “is, I’ll do my best—to help old Cascade win, and I want you all to help me.”
An outburst of applause greeted his stumbling speech, and a moment later, seeing an opening, Larry dodged into the doorway and fled through the building, across the campus and did not stop until he reached his rooms. There he remained, cutting two recitations, while trying to realize the turn fate had taken, and striving to plan how he would form his team. He recalled his early experiences with the Shasta View club, and decided that, in selecting his men, he would follow the same methods.
Larry was busily engaged writing a long letter to Krag, explaining the situation and asking advice, when the door opened and Clark, escorted by Winans and Katsura, who had come to offer their congratulations, entered.
“Hello, captain,” called Clark, offering his hand.