"All right," assented Benny. "Five fifteen P. M. 'Crackers' asks a question."
"It is this," said Brown, staring solemnly over the rim of his glasses: "he who dares to venture within this 'Retreat' must be more than a Pie-eater; he must have the—the—how does that go? Oh, yes—the courage of his convictions—it has to be perfectly straight talk."
"The question—the question!" demanded Benny. "You must excuse him, Lawrence. When he starts out to ask anything he generally forgets what it is before he reaches the point."
"You have been at the Kingswood High one week," said "Crackers," with a stern glare at the grinning Wilkins, "and in that time have seen and heard a lot. Where do you stand on this baseball situation?"
Owen Lawrence pondered a moment. The tongues of the boys were silent.
"Well," he said, slowly, "I'm not one of those chaps who is afraid to tell what he thinks." He beat a tattoo on the plate with his fork. "No, sir. I don't mind saying that from what I've seen of the Somers crowd my sympathies are beginning to be with the opposition."
"Hooray!" cried John Hackett. "We are all for the good of the school. Do you play ball?"
"Of course. I was on a scrub team for two years." He paused. "Fellows, I'm going to try for the Kingswood team myself."
"Great—great!" cried Benny, gleefully. "I'll make an entry of that."
"Think you stand any show of getting on?" inquired Nat.