“Well, good evenin’, sir; did you call to tea?” demanded Harvey Maston sarcastically as Jack entered.
“Why didn’t you keep us waiting until midnight?” called Cory, as he put down the book he had been reading.
“What’s the matter—fall asleep in the physics lab?” demanded Buck Miles.
“No, fellows, I plum forgot what time it—Hi, quit.”
“O-o-o-o-o-h, forgot,” roared every boy, and a moment later Jack was busy ducking sofa pillows that were being hurled in his direction.
“Well, now that you have subsided,” said Jack when the lads were out of ammunition, “the meeting will come to order.” He rapped on the top of the center table with his knuckles for lack of a gavel and assumed an air of dignity befitting the president of the school’s most important society.
“As I understand it,” he said, “this is to be a special meeting for a general summing up of the athletic situation at Drueryville next year. Am I right?”
“Right-o,” said Tommy Todd.
“Well, gentlemen, we will proceed. First, the baseball situation claims our attention. Tommy, how are things going to shape up next year with your outfit?”
“The outlook never was better,” said Tommy, cheerily. “Out of the nine regulars on this year’s team, only two will be graduated and they are both outfielders. I’ve men in the substitute squad that will take their places all right.”