to go with his sick father. I tell you Bricktop isn't doing right! He's deserting in the face of the enemy, for both Boxer Hall and Fairview are after our scalps this fall, because of the walloping we gave them last season. Bricktop's a deserter!"
"Oh, don't be ugly," begged Tom. "Maybe we don't know all the facts. I'm sure Bricktop wouldn't do anything mean."
"Oh, of course not," Sid hastened to say, "but you know what I mean. If Bricktop"
"Who's takin' me name in vain?" demanded a voice at the door—a voice with just the hint of Irish brogue—and into the room was thrust a shock of auburn—not to say reddish—hair, which had gained for the owner the appellation of "Bricktop." "I say, who's desecratin' me reputation, of which I have but a shred left—who's tearin' down me character behind me back?" and Molloy, with a quick glance at his friends, entered and threw himself beside Sid on the sofa, thereby making the old piece of furniture creak most alarmingly.
"Easy! For cats' sake!" cried Sid, in alarm. "Do you want to deprive us of our only remaining consolation, now that the chair is gone?"
"Surely not," answered the Irish lad. "Captain, I salute thee," and Bricktop arose and bowed elaborately to Dan. "I gather from what I heard, as I made my entrance, that you have received
