“The manager estimates that we’ll have to incur added expenses for about a hundred and twenty dollars for Farview game tickets and new supplies. In short, we shall have to pay out, before the season ends, about nine hundred dollars. Against that we have on hand forty-three dollars, and in prospect something like five hundred, leaving us about three hundred and fifty in the hole.
“There has been talk of cutting out the Lansing and Whittier games, but that wouldn’t make enough difference. Besides, it would give us a black eye to cancel games as late as this. We might save perhaps seventy dollars if we did, but it would cost us ten times that in public estimation. As far as I can see, fellows, if we’re going to have a football team, we’ve got to pay for it. We’ve asked permission to charge admission, even a nominal one, to all games, but the faculty is against it. And we have asked to have a regular assessment made against each student. To many of us that would seem the fairer and most satisfactory way of meeting the emergency. But the faculty doesn’t like that any better than the other proposition. So I guess it’s up to us, each and every one of us, to dig down and produce the coin.
“We need three hundred and fifty dollars at least. That means that every fellow in school must pony up four dollars, or, rather, that the average must be four dollars each. Some of you can’t give so much, probably, and a few can give more. I’d like to hear from you, please. Don’t be afraid to say what you think. We want to get together on this matter and thrash it out, if it takes until ten o’clock. Any one who has any suggestion to offer or anything to say will be heard. Come on, somebody!”
There were plenty of speakers: Dave Brewster, the baseball captain, Dan Whipple, senior class president, Lew Cooper, upper middle class president, Dave Murray, the manager of the team, Craig Jones, for the lower middlers, and many others, Some subscribed to the donation scheme, others opposed it. Cooper suggested an appeal to the school alumni. Brewster pointed out that the effort would cost money and that the result would be uncertain and, in any case, slow. An increase in the price of tickets to the Farview game was discussed and the idea abandoned. An hour passed and the meeting was getting nowhere. Some of the younger boys had already withdrawn. A tall, lantern-jawed youth had charged the football committee with extravagance, and Dave Murray had bitterly resented the allegation. Ned, who, with Laurie and Lee Murdock, was seated near the back of the hall, had shown signs of restiveness for some time and had been muttering to himself. Now, to the surprise of his companions, he jumped to his feet and demanded recognition:
“Mr. Chairman!”
“Mister—” Dan Whipple pointed a finger at Ned and nodded.
“Turner,” prompted Kewpie from a front seat.
“Mr. Turner,” encouraged the chairman.
“I’d like to say that I never heard so much talking and saw so little action,” began Ned, impatiently. “What’s the matter with some one saying something useful instead of just chewing the rag?”
“You tell ’em,” piped a small junior, above the applause and laughter.