Howard Wellington was a senior, a quiet fellow, much respected by the rest of the school, with a positive passion for reforming things. Rob was well aware of this passion and had counted on it to secure Wellington’s coÖperation in his plan. And Wellington had not failed him. Rob had a persuasive tongue and it hadn’t been difficult for him to convince Wellington that if anything ever needed reformation it was the foot-ball situation at Riverport School. Wellington had held off at first, viewing Rob’s scheme as merely a revolt on the part of disappointed foot-ball candidates, but Rob had soon persuaded him that the movement was purely patriotic and Wellington had enthusiastically pledged himself to the cause.

The announcement on the notice-board created a deal of excitement and discussion and both Wellington and Rob were kept busy parrying questions. All either would say was: “Come to the meeting and find out.” So they came to the meeting. The rooms in First House are fairly good-sized, but none of them will hold a hundred-odd boys, and so by a quarter past seven the audience was overflowing through the door into the corridor. Neither Hopkins nor Prentiss was there, but they were represented by two of their ablest lieutenants, Carter and Law. Besides these there were at least a half-dozen of the First Team present, probably out of mere curiosity. The Second Team was much better represented. In fact, Riverport School, with the exceptions already indicated and save for the absence of a handful of older fellows who looked on the thing as utter nonsense, was on hand when Wellington, jammed tightly against the window-ledge, called the meeting to order.

“Fellows,” he announced, “for some time, in fact for something over a year, there has been a general feeling of dissatisfaction over the condition of athletics here at Riverport.” (Loud applause greeted this.) “I’m not prepared to say where the trouble lies, but there is trouble.” (“There’s going to be more!” cried an irrepressible prep.) “We have not won, either in base-ball, rowing, hockey or foot-ball, a fair proportion of our contests. Just at present football is the—er—dominant issue, and we will confine our attention to that. Last year out of nine games played we won—” he referred to a paper here—“we won five. The five, however, were all early games with weaker teams. Of the remaining games we tied one and lost three, among them that with our chief rival, Adams Academy. This year we have so far played only three games, but the showing of our team has not been satisfactory. I think most of us agree to that.” (“You bet we do!” shouted a voice, and there was much laughter and applause.) “Langton, who will speak to you next, has something to say as to the reasons for our ill-success. Meanwhile I think I have said enough to show you that there is sufficient reason for this meeting.”

“Fellows,” said Rob, when the meeting had quieted down again, “I can’t talk like Wellington. He’s got me beat. But what I want to say is this. You know and I know that for the last two or three years the foot-ball teams we’ve turned out haven’t represented—haven’t—hang it, they haven’t been the best teams we could turn out, not by a long shot! And I challenge any one to deny it. Adams has beaten us four games out of five in the last five years, and she will do it again this year. That isn’t right, and it isn’t necessary. Now is it?”

“No!”

“You bet it isn’t! Why, we’ve got plenty of good material here at Riverport, just as good, every bit as good, as Adams has. But something’s wrong. Wellington said I was going to give my opinions as to what the matter is. Well, I’m not. I’ve got them, all right, but this meeting isn’t called to find out what the trouble with the foot-ball team is. It’s called to decide whether it won’t be a good idea to have an independent eleven that shall be representative of the school—to form an association for that purpose. I don’t want you to think I’m trying to be the whole thing here to-night, but I’ve been kind of thinking it out and if you don’t mind I’ll tell you my ideas. Then you can say what you think of them.”

“Go ahead!”

“You’re all right, Lanky!”

“Let’s hear them!”

“Well, now suppose we form an association to be called the Independent Football Association. We elect officers. Then we issue a call for candidates for a football team and appoint a temporary captain—”

“I suppose that’ll be you, what!” called Carter.

“Cut it out, Carter!”

“Dry up or get out!”

“It’ll be me if you want me,” responded Rob good-naturedly, “but I guess you can find some one a lot better. We want a manager, too. Once we’ve got going the manager will make some dates for us. It isn’t too late to get in, say, four or five games with other schools. There’ll be no favoritism—”

He was interrupted by loud and prolonged applause.

“And every fellow who comes out for the team will get a fair show. We’ll make the team up of the best players we can find, no matter whether they’re personally known to the captain or man—”

But Rob didn’t get any further, being drowned out by the howl of laughter which arose.

“We’ll have a coach, too. I know a fellow who will come up here for a month and be glad to do it and not charge a cent beyond his board. And he knows football, too, a whole lot more than any of the rest of us ever will know. I’ll tell you who he is when the time comes. We’ve been to see Doctor Farren and he says we can go ahead. And we’ve consulted Tom—I mean Mr. Osgood—and he thinks the idea is a good one. We can use the scrub gridiron for practice and when the School Team goes away to play we can use theirs. I don’t say we can turn out a finished team this fall, because it’s already the tenth of October, but we can have some mighty good sport and perhaps next year we’ll be able to give the School Team something to think about. Now, then, what do you say, fellows?”

The project took the meeting by storm and confusion reigned supreme. But the sense of the meeting was evident, and Rob shot a satisfied glance toward Evan and Malcolm as he edged back to his seat on the window-ledge. Joe Law demanded recognition and finally got it. Joe was indignant and declared that he had never before witnessed the appalling spectacle of a school deliberately deserting its foot-ball team. Joe waxed eloquent and a good many foot-ball fellows present applauded.

“What happened the other day?” he demanded. “Why, a lot of you chumps stood down there on the field and hooted us. That’s no way to do! What if we did get licked badly by Mountfort? That game wasn’t an important one. Why don’t you stand by us and help us find our pace and knock spots out of Adams? What good is it going to do to go and get up another team? What will the other schools think of us? They’ll think we’re a lot of—of—”

“Who wrote your speech, Law?” piped up a voice that sounded like Mr. George Washington Jell’s; “Hopkins or Prentiss?”

“I’m not trying to make a speech,” cried Joe exasperatedly above the laughter. “I’m just trying to show you fellows what a lot of idiots you’re trying to be. Why, you can’t get up a foot-ball team, anyway! There aren’t eleven fellows to be had!”

“We can get up a better team than the First with six fellows,” growled Harry Pierce. Wellington interfered.

“I think we’d better get back to business,” he said. “Is it the wish of the meeting that the plan outlined by Langton be proceeded with?”

“Sure thing!”

“Rah for Lanky!”

“Order! Order!”

“Then I suggest that you appoint a committee of, say, three fellows to take charge for the present and draw up a plan of organization. And since we haven’t any time to lose I think we had better meet again to-morrow evening at the same time.”

“Meet somewhere where we can all get in,” demanded a voice from the corridor.

“That’s so. Maybe we can get the use of the rowing-room in the gym. The committee will post a notice in the forenoon and announce the meeting-place. Now if you’ll nominate three fellows to—”

“Langton!” called a voice, and there was a general roar of approval.

“Wellington,” called some one else and again the choice was unanimous.

“Prentiss!” suggested some one from the depths of the crowd about the doorway and received his reward of hoots and laughter. The third member was finally found in Harry Pierce, and as it was by that time close on eight o’clock, the meeting broke up. Rob remained behind with Wellington and Pierce and the three arranged to get together in Pierce’s room after study-hour. Evan and Malcolm walked back to Holden with Rob.

“Well, so far so good,” said Rob with satisfaction. “I knew it would go all right, though, as soon as Wellington agreed to take a hand. The fellows think anything he goes in for is all to the good. At this rate we ought to have our first practice the day after to-morrow.”

“But can we get enough fellows to make a team?” asked Evan doubtfully.

“Enough for two teams,” replied Rob. “You wait and see.”

The next evening there was a second meeting in the gymnasium and the Independent Football Association came into existence. Wellington was elected president, Malcolm Warne secretary and manager, Pierce treasurer and Rob temporary captain. It was voted to collect an entrance-fee of fifty cents from each member, the proceeds to be used in the interests of the team. Fifty-four fellows joined at the meeting. Mr. Osgood, the physical director, popularly known as Tommy, made a speech and was duly elected to honorary membership. Tommy said he was pleased to see such an interest in outdoor sports as appeared to be developing at Riverport. He believed in athletics of all sorts and was of the opinion that fifteen minutes of work on the turf or cinder track was better than an hour in the gymnasium. Of course he cautioned them against giving too much attention to foot-ball to the exclusion of study.

“The trouble is, I have found, that too many of you carry foot-ball and base-ball and rowing into the class-rooms with you. There’s a time for everything and a place for everything. Athletics belong on the field and when you leave the field you ought to leave athletics too. Of course I don’t expect you to dismiss foot-ball entirely from your minds as soon as you’ve had your shower; that would be expecting too much; but just see that when study time comes and when recitation time comes you put foot-ball out of your thoughts and get down to work. The year before last I had a student pass in a diagram of a foot-ball play in place of a chemistry paper. That sort of thing doesn’t do.

“And now one thing more,” continued Mr. Osgood. “Doctor Farren has given his consent to this project, but he isn’t convinced that it’s a good thing. He fears that there’s going to be too much foot-ball around here. So you understand that the project is on trial, fellows, and that you must not overdo it. Have a good time and get all the exercise you can out of it, but don’t let it interfere with your real duties. That’s all, I guess, except that I want to remind all of you that go in for the team that you must come to me and be examined.”

Mr. Osgood got his round of applause and then Rob was called on to tell the meeting about the coach he had spoken of the evening before.

“His name is Duffield,” said Rob, “and he played with Brown last year and the year before that. He graduated last June. Some of you may have heard of him, although, as he was a tackle, he never got into the papers much, I guess. He was a good player and he’s a good fellow and knows a whole lot about the game. He lives in Providence and he can come down every day and go home again; it would only take him forty minutes on the train. He used to live in my town and I knew him when I was a kid. All he wants in case he does come are his expenses, that is, room and board and fares. As there are only about five weeks more of the season he wouldn’t cost us much, I guess.”

Rob sat down and one after another half a dozen fellows had their say. Two of them thought a coach unnecessary, but as a whole the Association was heartily in favor of hiring Mr. Duffield. Finally the manager and captain were empowered to enter into negotiations with him and secure his services if in their judgment the Association could afford them. It was decided that fellows who made the team were to supply their own uniforms and that gray shirts and sweaters with the letters R. I. in green, signifying Riverport Independents, should be worn. The manager was instructed to arrange for as many games as possible for the remaining Wednesday and Saturday afternoons.

“I think,” said Pierce, “that as we won’t have much money after we’ve bought footballs and paid the coach it would be well to arrange games only with teams that are willing to come here and play. Because I don’t see how we can pay car fares to visit other schools.”

“We might have one game away from school,” suggested Malcolm, “if it wasn’t too far and the fellows could pay their own expenses.”

This produced a laugh, but it won applause as well, and Rob got the floor and declared that for his part he was willing to pay his expenses and those of one other fellow in a case of that sort. So it was decided that Malcolm was to induce teams to visit Riverport when possible and when not possible to make dates with them anyhow. Candidates were called for the following afternoon at four o’clock and the meeting adjourned subject to the call of the president, with every one feeling very well satisfied.

“And now,” declared Rob on his way back to his room, “if we can get Walter Duffield we’re all right. And if we don’t make Hop and Prentiss sit up and take notice before the season’s over I’ll eat my hat!”