They met and for a moment conversed in whispers.
"It's Joel March!" cried Blair.

"He's going to play!" exclaimed a dozen voices.

"But he can't," cried a dozen others.

"He's on probation." "He is! He is! He's going on! He's going to play!" And so he was.

Whipple had already seen him, and had sunk to the ground nursing an ankle which had suddenly gone lame.