There was no air of indecision about the new student. The lines of his clean-cut face seemed to tighten.
"I say, Mr. Steele," he called, "may I have a word with you?"
"As many as you please," answered the coach, smilingly. He handed the list which had excited "Crackers'" curiosity to Bob Somers and advanced to the edge of the cage. "What can I do for you, Lawrence?"
"Am I too late to try for the team, Mr. Steele?"
Owen spoke in an aggressive manner, as though he anticipated an affirmative answer and was ready to argue the point. But: "Certainly you may," coming from the coach made the combative light fade from his eyes.
"Oh—oh! Thank you."
"You have played a good deal, I suppose?"
"Yes, sir."
"Very well. You may start in to-morrow."
"Too bad! A revolution nipped in the bud," muttered Benny Wilkins. "Lawrence's expression was something fierce. But it had the 'fade-away' drop, all right. Back to the pie parlor for me."