Owen Lawrence eyed him scornfully.
"That's a fine way to talk," he growled. "If you're going to back down at the very start we'd better know it now."
The big captain of the "Hopes" flushed.
"Of course I'm not," he answered, hastily. "All I want is to see everybody get a square deal."
"That stout gentleman who poked his delicate frame into the gym this afternoon about typifies the actions of the Ramblers," remarked Brown. "He has an idea that every one must bend to his will. So do they. Why, in that room back there, I began to think I was talking to the head of some big corporation doing business in a dozen states."
"There's no use chirping all day. Let's get busy," broke in Lawrence, impatiently. "What's the first move, Brown?"
"A poster announcing our intentions would be about the proper caper," answered Brown, reflectively. "I'll consult my special artist, Mr. Benny Wilkins."
"What! Can he draw?"
"He may not have Dave Brandon's a-mazing talent, but, at any rate, his sketches don't need explanations to go with 'em. I'll jolly him into making one—that is, unless the other High Moguls of the association overrule the iron hand back there."
Before supper time Dan Brown had managed to interview Harry Spearman, Dick Travers and the others.