This announcement met with a storm of approval.
“I mean,” corrected Hopkins with some embarrassment, “that we would be willing to if it wasn’t that we shall need all the time that is left to us to get ready for Adams.”
“You bet you will!” yelled Jelly from a front seat.
“The School Team is the only team that has the right to represent the School in contests with other schools and I insist on that right. And I hope you fellows will stand by me and—and my team, and help us to a victory.”
It was a weak effort and even Hopkins himself seemed to realize the fact. There was some scant applause and then some one called “Langton! What’s he say? Where’s Langton?” and Rob got to his feet and faced the meeting with a confident smile on his face.
“All I’ve got to say,” he announced, “is that we think we’ve got a team that can put it all over the School Eleven. You fellows have seen us play and you know pretty well what we can do. Whether we could beat Adams I don’t know, but I think we could. Anyway, we’d like mighty well to try. For our part we’re more than willing to play the School Team on Saturday, or any other day they like, and abide by the results. If they win let them play Adams, if we win let us do it. Seems to me that’s fair. We all want to win that game, and I don’t see that it’s going to matter much whether the Independents or the School Team turn the trick. The main thing is to get revenge on Adams for the drubbings she’s been giving us.”
“Do I understand,” asked Wellington, when he could make himself heard, “that Hopkins refuses to play the Independents?”
There was a moment of silence, and then Prentiss sprang to his feet.
“No,” he cried, “he doesn’t. We’ll play the Independents on Saturday and show you fellows which is the better. And then, perhaps, you’ll be satisfied and quit trying to queer things. All I’ve got to say is that this school has got a mighty funny idea of how to go about to win a foot-ball victory! If you’d stand by your team instead of trying to bust it up—”