Hiram and Luke. The latter, for some days past had not been his usual self, and his crony could not understand it.
"What's the matter with you, anyhow?" Hiram asked. "Aren't you glad we did that chump Matson up good and brown?"
"Oh, well, I don't know," answered Luke slowly. "I didn't think it would mean that we'd lose the Blue Banner."
"How do you know we are going to lose it?"
"Of course we are. Morningside will win, with no good pitcher to hold her down, and Joe is a good pitcher, no matter what hand he had in getting us out of the nine. I'm sorry I got out anyhow. I'd like to be on it now."
"You're sorry?" gasped Hiram.
"Yes, I wouldn't have resigned only you made me."
"I made you! Say, what's eating you, anyhow? You were as hot against Matson and his crowd as I was."
"No, I wasn't, and while we're on this subject I'll tell you another thing. I'm mighty sorry I had a hand in that statue business."
"You didn't do anything—Sam and I yanked it down."
"I know, but I put Joe's telegram there—I'm
