"Well, here's the latest."
"Wait till I get my note-book," cried Benny. "Three forty-five P. M. 'The latest—as told by Mr. Clifton.' Go ahead, Tom."
Tom scowled fiercely.
"It isn't any laughing matter, son," he exclaimed, grimly. "You all know what an eccentric old man Mr. Barry is——"
"But not so much as to make him unreasonable," suggested Coach Steele.
"Oh, I don't know. Listen."
The squad "listened," as did many lads who crowded the big room.
"He's an eccentric old creature," repeated Tom. He glanced sternly into Benny's grinning face. "What do you think? I heard that one of the fellows—one of our fellows, mind you—said the way we played ball was enough to make Mr. Barry plant corn on his lot."
"Oh—oh!" gasped Benny Wilkins, faintly.
"Yes, it's so. I'd just like to find him and punch his head."