"Well, you'd better not." "Crackers" turned to face his "outlaws." "Fellows, our perfectly reasonable proposition has been turned down. It's up to us to break the red tape into a thousand pieces. Mr. Steele"—his voice resumed its former mildness—"I shall put my request in writing and send it to the athletic association."
The room was in an uproar. The Somers party attempted, by sheer force of noise, to drown the angry remarks of Brown's disappointed followers. Benny Wilkins was thoroughly charmed. He noted, too, with satisfaction, that the "outlaws" seemed to be in no hurry to leave.
As the commotion was at its highest the door suddenly flew wide open, and the form of a big, burly man was sharply outlined against the bright outdoor light.
He listened a moment in seeming astonishment, then strode heavily across the floor, making for the point of loudest noise.
"What does all this mean, boys?" bellowed Captain Ralph Bunderley. "Do you want to take the roof off, or crack the window-panes? I've been looking for my nephew, Victor Collins; and I've found him, and something else I didn't bargain for."
The unexpected appearance of the burly seaman in their midst had the effect of quelling all but the most turbulent spirits.
"I'd like to know what's going on!"
"Uncle, let me introduce you to the biggest bunch of fire-eaters in Wisconsin," called Victor. "It's a revolution—that's what it is, isn't it, Brownie?"
From a dozen points in the room came the explanation that Captain Bunderley was seeking.
The skipper was astonished and angry. "I should think you boys would have better sense than to act this way," he stormed. "What do you expect to gain by such conduct?"