"So are we all, Tom," exclaimed Bob. "Going around to tell Dave, are you? Good! Have to get to work now. So-long!"
The captain snapped the receiver back in place.
"Well, that's going some," he soliloquized. "A nice little scheme of 'Crackers' Brown to carry his point. But if he thinks he can force the issue in this way he may be a trifle surprised."
The bold move of Brown made a decided sensation. The big poster was eagerly read by all factions. Hot arguments waxed to such extremes that bosom friends soon passed each other without speaking. Some of the freshmen seemed on the point of backing up their opinions with fistic arguments. The original feeling that the Ramblers had too much power broke out afresh; and through all the noise, excitement and confusion Brown went serenely along, doing far more execution with his calm methods than any loud, boisterous talking could have accomplished.
"For the good of the school," was his slogan.
Purple and white pennants with this motto began to appear. The opposition to the Ramblers, though still in the minority, was undoubtedly gaining strength. Cries for "Roycroft! Lawrence!" and several other candidates who had failed to pass Coach Steele's critical tests frequently rose on the campus.
Brown's call for volunteers met with a hearty response, and the self-appointed coach, determining that no time should be lost in putting his plans into execution, had his squad out within a couple of days. Brown's preference was evidently for big, husky chaps.
"Sometimes the size of a fellow has an effect on the opposing team," he said to Owen Lawrence. "A hundred and seventy-five pounds of bone and muscle tearing along the base lines often does more good than the skill of a hundred and thirty pound stripling.
"Then, chaps like that have bigger hands to grab the ball; and when they crack out a hit it has some steam behind it.
"And, honestly, whenever I see Blake making a dash for a hot liner it puts me in mind of an item like this: 'Baseball player seriously injured by a bounder.'"