Once more the horse-play, led by Dutch, broke out.
Bang! Bang! went Mr. Leighton’s gavel again.
“I nominate Ed Kerr!” sung out Jerry.
“Second it!” came from his brother in a flash.
“Mr. Kerr has been nominated,” spoke the chairman. “Are there any others?”
“Move the nominations be closed,” came from Tom quickly, but, before it could be seconded, Bert Bascome was on his feet. He had a sneering, supercilious air, that was in distinct bad taste, yet he seemed to have a sort of following, as, indeed, any youth in college may have, who is willing to freely spend his money.
“One moment, Mr. Chairman,” began Bascome, and so anxious were the others to hear what was coming that they did not interrupt. “When I came to Randall college,” went on the freshman, with an air as if he had conferred a great favor by his act, “I was given to understand that the spirit of sportsmanship and fair play was a sort of a heritage.”
“So it is!”
“What’s eating you?”
“Who’s the goat?” came the cries. Bert flushed but went on: