"They're over on the lot practicing, coachy," cried Victor Collins. "Those chaps are right on the job, while you're putting up the biggest blow I ever listened to."
"Crackers" gazed toward him mildly, but made no reply.
"Fellows"—he abruptly raised his voice to a pitch of harshness—"I ask you to pledge your support. Those who are with us raise their hands."
Arms shot up from every quarter, and the roar of voices which accompanied the movement caused the boys practicing on the distant field to stop and look around.
CHAPTER XV
A DECISION
"I hope you understand, Somers, that I have nothing against you fellows. Nobody ever heard me squeal. But if the school wants me to play what can I do?"
Earl Roycroft, with an expression of embarrassment on his good-natured face, was speaking to Bob Somers, not more than an hour after the meeting on the campus.
"I don't blame you, Roycroft," answered Bob, as the two walked along Central Avenue. "I'm sure the rest won't, either."