"But the club can play and is likely to go right on winning," said Dave, emphatically.
"Oh, I'm not saying anything against their ability," admitted Dick. "But outside of Roycroft and several others, it is chiefly confined to hitting."
"They can line out the ball—and that's about all they can do," supplemented Tom.
"If it wins games it's enough," returned Dave. "Now suppose we could beat the 'Hopes' to smithereens. Would you play 'em?"
Dave broke into a broad grin, but the others looked very solemn indeed.
"It's awful to feel that lots of fellows think we're crawling," said Bob, "but, in that case, perhaps—perhaps—we would."
After a short pause, Dave continued:
"Since the organization of the Rambler Club the crowd has run into some pretty stirring adventures, and has had quite a few thrills." He smiled quizzically. "I refer you to the history now appearing in the 'Reflector.'"
"Never read better writing in my life; it's stunning!" cried Tom.
"Thanks! Now let's get back to the issue. We've had things pretty much our own way. All of us graduate this year. We expected to leave school in a blaze of glory, with the winning of Mr. Rupert Barry's field as the final achievement of our student days. I agree with you, Bob: in a short time the regulars will be a stronger nine than the Brown aggregation."