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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/12691-0.txt b/12691-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..32e5812 --- /dev/null +++ b/12691-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7006 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12691 *** + +THE HIGH SCHOOL LEFT END + +or Dick & Co. Grilling on the Football Gridiron + +By H. Irving Hancock + + + +CONTENTS + +CHAPTERS + I. Sulking in the Football Camp + II. The Start of the Dodge Mystery + III. Dick Stumbles on Something + IV. The 'Soreheads' in Conclave + V. At the End of the Trail + VI. The Small Soul of a Gentleman + VII. The Football Notice Goes Up + VIII. Dick Fires Both Barrels + IX. Bayliss Gets Some Advice + X. Two Girls Turn the Laugh + XI. Does Football Teach Real Nerve + XII. Dick, Like Caesar, Refuses the Crown + XIII. Bert Dodge "Starts Something" + XIV. The "Strategy" of a School Traitor + XV. A "Fear" for the Plotter + XVI. "The Cattle Car for Yours" + XVII. Facing the "School Cut" + XVIII. "Prin." Gets in the Practice + XIX. Laura and Belle Have a Secret + XX. In the Line of Daring + XXI. The Price of Bravery + XXII. The Thanksgiving Day Game + XXIII. Sulker and Real Man + XXIV. Conclusion + + + + +CHAPTER I + +SULKING IN THE FOOTBALL CAMP + + +"Football is all at sixes and sevens, this year," muttered Dave +Darrin disconsolately. + +"I can tell you something more than that," added Tom Reade mysteriously. + +"What?" asked Dick Prescott, looking at Reade with interest, for +it was unusual for Reade to employ that tone or air. + +"Two members of the Athletics Committee have intimated to Coach +Morton that they'd rather see football passed by this year." + +"_What_?" gasped Dick. He was staring hard now. + +"Fact," nodded Tom. "At least, I believe it to be a fact." + +"There must be something wrong with that news," put in Greg Holmes +anxiously. + +"No; I think it's all straight enough," persisted Tom, shaking +his head to silence Holmes. "It came to me straight enough, though +I don't feel at liberty to tell you who told me." + +All six members of Dick & Co. were present. The scene of the +meeting was Dick Prescott's own room at his home over the bookstore +kept by his parents. The hour was about nine o'clock in the evening. +It was Friday evening of the first week of the new school year. +The fellows had dropped in to talk over the coming football +season, because the week had been one of mysterious unrest in +the football squad at Gridley High School. + +Just what the trouble was, where it lay or how it had started +was puzzling the whole High School student body. The squad was +not yet duly organized. This was never attempted until in the +second week of the school year. Yet it was always the rule that +the new seniors who, during their junior year, had made good records +on either the school eleven, or the second eleven, should form +the nucleus of the new pigskin squad. Added to these, were the +new juniors, formerly of the sophomore class, who had shown the +most general promise in athletics during the preceding school +year. + +Gridley High School aimed to lead---to be away at the top---in +all school athletics. The "Gridley spirit," which would not accept +defeat in sports, was proverbial throughout the state. + +And so, though the football squad was not yet formally organized +for training and practice, yet, up to the last few days, it had +been expected that a finer gridiron crowd than usual would present +itself for weeding, sifting and training by Coach Morton. The +latter was also one of the submasters of Gridley High School. + +Since the school year had opened, however, undercurrent news had +been rife that there would be many "soreheads," and that this +would be an "off year" in Gridley football. Just where the trouble +lay, or what the "kick" was about, was a puzzle to most members +of the student body. It was an actual mystery to Dick & Co. + +"What is all the undermining row about, anyway?" demanded Dick, +looking around at his chums. Dick was pacing the floor. Dave, +Tom and Greg Holmes were seated on the edge of the bed. Dan Dalzell +was lying back in the one armchair that the room boasted. Harry +Hazelton was standing by the door. + +"I can't make a single thing out of it all," sighed Dan. "All +I can get at is that some of the seniors and some of our class, +the juniors, are talking as though they didn't care about playing +this year. I know that Coach Morton is worried. In fact, he's +downright disheartened." + +"Surely," interjected Dick, "Mr. Morton must have an idea of what +is keeping some of the fellows back from the team?" + +"If he does know, he isn't offering any information," returned +Harry Hazelton. + +"I don't see any need for so much mystery," broke in Dave Darrin, +in disgust. + +"Well, there is a mystery about it, anyway," contended Tom Reade. + +"Then, before I'm much older, I'm going to know what that mystery +is," declared Dick. + +"You're surely the one of our crowd who ought to be put on the +trail of the mystery," proposed Dalzell, with a laugh. + +"Why?" challenged Prescott. + +"Why, you're a reporter on 'The Blade.' Now mysteries are supposed +to constitute the especial field of reporters. So, see here, +fellows, I move that we appoint Dick Prescott a committee of +one for Dick & Co., his job being to find out what ails football---to +learn just what has made football sick this year." + +"Hear! Hear!" cried some of the others. + +"Is that your unanimous wish, fellows?" asked Dick, smiling. + +"It is," the others agreed. + +"Very good, then," sighed Prescott. "At no matter what personal +cost, I will find the answer for you." + +This was all in a spirit of fun, as the chums understood. Yet +this lightly given promise was likely to involve Dick Prescott +in a good deal more than he had expected. + +Readers of the preceding volumes in this series know Dick & Co. +so well that an introduction would be superfluous. Those to +whom the pages of "The High School Freshmen" are familiar know +how Dick & Co., chums from the Central Grammar School, entered +Gridley High School in the same year. How the boys toiled through +that first year as half-despised freshmen, and how they got some +small share in school athletics, even though freshmen were not +allowed to make the school athletic teams, has been told. The +pranks of the young freshmen are now "old tales." How Dick Prescott, +with the aid of his chums, put up a hoax that fairly seared the +Board of Education out of its purpose to forbid High School football +does not need telling again. Our former readers are also familiar +with the enmity displayed by Fred Ripley, son of a wealthy lawyer, +and the boomerang plot of Ripley to disgrace Prescott and brand +the latter as a High School thief. The same readers will recall +the part played in this plot by Tip Scammon, worthless son of +the honest old High School janitor, and how Tip's evil work resulted +in his going to the penitentiary for the better part of a year. + +Readers of "_The High School Pitcher_" will recollect how, in +their sophomore year, Dick and Co. made their first real start +in High School athletics; how Dick became the star pitcher for +the nine, and how the other chums all found places on the nine, +either as star players or as "subs." In this volume also was +told the story of Fred's moral disasters under the tyranny of +Tip Scammon, Who threatened to "tell." How Dick & Co. were largely +entitled to the credit for bringing the Gridley High School nine +through a season's great record on the diamond was all told in +this second volume. Dick's good fortune in getting a position +as "space" reporter on "The Morning Blade" was also described, +and some of his adventures as reporter were told. The culmination +of Fred Ripley's scoundrelism, and his detection by his stern +old lawyer father, were narrated at length. Perhaps many of our +readers will remember, the unpopular principal of the High School, +Mr. Abner Cantwell; and the swimming episode, in which every High +School boy took part, afterwards meekly awaiting the impossible +expulsion of all the boys of the High School student body. Our +readers will recall that Mr. Cantwell had succeeded the former +principal, Dr. Thornton, whom the boys had almost idolized, and +that much of Mr. Cantwell's trouble was due to his ungovernable +temper. + +During the first two years of High School life, Dick & Co. had +become increasingly popular. True, since these six chums were +all the sons of families in very moderate circumstances, Dick +& Co. had been disliked by some of the little groups of students +who came from wealthier families, and who believed that High School +life should be rather governed by a select few representing the +move "aristocratic" families of the little city. + +Good-humored avoidance is excellent treatment to accord a snob, +and this, as far as possible, had been the plan of Dick & Co. +and of the other average boy at the High School. + +"Let us see," broke in Dick, suddenly, "who are the soreheads +in the football line?" + +"Well, Davis and Cassleigh, of the senior class, for two," replied +Dave Darrin. + +"Dodge, Fremont and Bayliss, also first classmen," suggested Reade. + +"Trenholm and Grayson, also seniors," brought in Greg Holmes. + +"Then there are Porter, Drayne and Whitney," added Dave. "They're +of this year's Juniors." + +"And Hudson and Paulson, also of our junior class," nodded Harry +Hazelton. + +Dick Prescott had rapidly written down the names. Now he was +studying the list carefully. + +"They're all good football men," sighed Dick. "All men whose +aid in the football squad is much needed." + +"Drayne is the stuck-up chap, who uses the broad 'a' in his speech, +and carries his nose up at an angle of forty-five degrees," chuckled +Dan Dalzell. "He's the fellow I mortally offended by nicknaming +him 'Sewers,' to mimic his name of 'Drayne.'" + +"That wouldn't be enough to keep him out of football," remarked +Dave quietly. + +Dick looked up suddenly from his list. + +"Fellows," he announced, "I've made one discovery." + +"Out with it!" ordered Dan. + +"Perhaps you can guess for yourselves what I have just found." + +"We can't," admitted Hazelton meekly. "Please tell us, and save +us racking our brains." + +"Well, it's curious," continued Dick slowly, "but every one of +these fellows---I believe you've given me all the names of the +'soreheads'" + +"We have," affirmed Tom Reade. + +"Well, I've just noted that every fellow on my sorehead roll of +honor belongs to one of our families of wealth in Gridley." + +Dick paused to look around him, to see how the announcement impressed +his chums. + +"Do you mean," hinted Hazelton, "that the soreheads are down on +football because they prefer automobiles?" + +"No." Dick Prescott shook his head emphatically. + +"By Jove, Dick, I believe you're right," suddenly exclaimed Dave +Darrin. + +"So you see my point, old fellow?" + +"I'm sure I do." + +"I'm going to get examined for spectacles, then," sighed Dan plaintively. +"I can't see a thing." + +"Why, you ninny," retorted Dave scornfully, "the football 'soreheads' +have been developing that classy feeling. They wear better clothes +than we do, and have more pocket money. Many of their fathers +don't work for a living. In other words, the fellows on Dick's +list belong to what they consider a privileged and aristocratic +set. They're the Gridley bluebloods---or think they are---and +they don't intend to play on any football eleven that is likely +to have Dick & Co. and a few other ordinary muckers on it." + +"Muckers?" repeated Harry Hazelton flaring up. + +"Cool down, dear chap, _do_!" urged Darrin, soothingly. "I don't +mean to imply that we really are muckers, but that's what some +of the classy group evidently consider us." + +"Why, they say that Cassleigh's grandfather was an Italian immigrant, +who spelled his name Casselli," broke in Dan Dalzell. + +"I believe it, son," nodded Dave. "Old Casselli was an immigrant +and an honest fellow. But he had the bad judgment to make some +money in the junk business, and sent his son to college. The +son, after the old immigrant died, took to spelling his name Cassleigh, +and the grandson is the prize snob of the town." + +"And Bayliss's father was indicted by the grand jury, seven or +eight years ago, for bribery in connection with a trolley franchise," +muttered Greg Holmes. + +"Also currently reported to be true, my infant," nodded Dave sagely. +"But the witnesses against the elder Bayliss skipped, and the +district attorney never brought the case to trial. Case was quashed +a year later, and so now the Baylisses belong to the Distinguished +Order of Unconvicted Boodlers. That trolley stock jumped to six +times its par value right after the case against Bayliss was dropped, +you know." + +"And, from what I've heard Mr. Pollock say at 'The Blade' office," +Dick threw in, "the fathers of one or two of the other soreheads +got their money in devious ways." + +"Why, there's Whitney's father," laughed Dan Dalzell. "Did you +ever hear how he got his start thirty years ago? Whitney's +brother-in-law got into financial difficulties, and transferred to +the elder Whitney property worth a hundred and twenty-five thousand +dollars. When the financial storm blew over the brother-in-law wanted +the property transferred back again, but the elder Whitney didn't +see it that way. The elder Whitney kept the transferred property, +and has since increased it to a half million or more." + +"Oh, well," Dick interrupted, "let us admit that some of the fellows +on the sorehead list have never been in jail, and have never been +threatened with it. But I am sure that Dave has guessed my meaning +right. The soreheads, who number a dozen of rather valuable pigskin +men, are on strike just because some of us poorer fellows are +in it." + +"What nonsense!" ejaculated Greg Holmes disgustedly. "Why, Purcell +isn't in any such crowd. Of course, Purcell's father isn't rich +beyond the dreams of avarice, but the Purcells, as far as blood +goes, are head and shoulders above the families of any of the +fellows on Dick's little list." + +"If that's really what the disagreement is over," drawled Dan, +"I see an easy way out of it." + +"Go ahead," nodded Dick. + +"Let the 'soreheads' form the Sons of Tax-payers Eleven, and we'll +organize a Sons of poor but Honest Parents Eleven. Then we'll +play them the best two out of three games for the honor of representing +Gridley High School this year." + +"Bright, but not practicable," objected Dick patiently. "The +trouble is that, if two such teams were formed and matched, neither +team, in the event of its victory, would have all of the best +gridiron stuff that the High School contains. No, no; what we +want, if possible, is some plan that will bring the whole student +body together, all differences forgotten and with the sole purpose +of getting up the best eleven that Gridley can possibly send +out against the world." + +"Well, we are willing," remarked Darrin grimly. + +"No! No, we're not," objected Hazelton fiercely. "If the snobs +don't want to play with any of us on the team, then we don't want +to play if _they_ come in." + +"Gently, gently!" urged Dick. "Think of the honor of your school +before you tie your hands up with any of your own mean, small +pride. Our whole idea must be that Gridley High School is to +go on winning, as it has always done before. For myself, I had +hoped to be on the eleven this year. Yet, if my staying off the +list will put Gridley in the winning set, I'm willing to give +up my own ambitions. I'm going to put the honor of the school +first, and myself somewhere along about fourteenth." + +"That's the only talk," approved Dave promptly. "Gridley must +have the winning football eleven." + +"Well, the whole thing is a shame," blazed Reade indignantly. + +"Oh, well, don't worry," drawled Dan Dalzell. "Keep cool, and +the whole thing will be fixed." + +"Fixed?" insisted Reade. "How? How will it be fixed?" + +"I don't know," Dan confessed, stifling a yawn behind his hand. +"Just leave the worry alone. Let Dick fix it." + +"How can you fix it?" asked Reade, turning upon their leader. + +"I don't know---yet," hesitated Prescott. But, like Dan, I believe +there's a way to be found." + +"Going?" asked Hazelton. "Well, I'll trot along, too." + +"Yes," nodded Greg. "It's a shame to stay here, hardening Dick's +mattress when he ought to be lying on it himself. It's time we +were all in bed. Good night, Dick, old fellow." + +Four of the boys were speedily gone. Darrin, however, remained +behind, though he intended to stay only a few minutes. The two +were earnestly discussing the squally football "weather" when +the elder Prescott's voice sounded from the foot of the stairs. + +"Dick?" + +"Yes, sir," answered the boy, throwing open the door and springing +to the head of the stairs. + +"Mr. Bradley, of 'The Blade,' wants to talk with you over the 'phone. +In a hurry, too, he says. + +"I'll be right there, Dad. Coming, Dave?" + +Darrin nodding, the two chums ran down the stairs to the bookstore. +Dick caught up the transmitter and answered. + +"That you, Dick?" sounded the impatient voice of News Editor Bradley. + +"This is Dick Prescott, Mr. Bradley." + +"Then, for goodness' sake, can you hustle up here?" + +"Of course I can." + +"Ask your father if you can take up a late night job for me. +Then come on the jump. My men are all out, and everything is +at odds and ends in the way of news. I can't get a single man, +and I wish I had three at this minute." + +"Dave Darrin is here. Can I bring him along?" + +"Yes; he's not a reporter---but he may be able to help. Hustle." + +"I'll be walking in through the doorway," laughed Dick, "by the +time you've hung your transmitter up. Good-bye." Ting-a-ling-ling! +"Now, Dave, get your father on the jump, and ask his leave to +go out on a late night story with me." + +Fortunately there was no delay about this. Dave received the +permission from home promptly enough. The two youngsters set +out on a run. + +What healthy boy of sixteen doesn't love to prowl late a night? +It is twenty-fold more fascinating when there's a mystery on +tap, and a newspaper behind all the curiosity. + +The longing of these sturdy chums for mystery and adventure was +swiftly to be gratified---perhaps more so than they could have +wished! + +News Editor Bradley was waiting for them in the doorway of "The +Blade" office, a frown on the journalistic face. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE START OF THE DODGE MYSTERY + + +"This is the way it always goes," jerked out Bradley, as the two +High School boys hurried into the office after him. + +"One of my men is sick, and the other two are somewhere---where, +I can't find out." + +"All" his men sounded large enough; as a matter of fact, the only +reporters "The Blade" employed were three young men on salary, +and Dick Prescott, mainly as gleaner of school news. Dick didn't +receive any salary, but was paid a dollar a column. + +"What's happening, anyway?" Dick asked coolly. + +"You know Theodore Dodge?" demanded Mr. Bradley. + +"I know him when I see him; he never talks with me," Prescott +replied. + +"Theodore Dodge is the father of a fellow in our senior class +at High School," Dave put in, adding under his breath, "and the +son is one of our football 'soreheads.'" + +"Dodge has vanished," continued Bradley. "He went out early this +morning, and hasn't been seen since. Tonight, just after dark, +a man walking by the river, up above the bend, picked up a coat +and hat on the bank. Letters in the pocket showed the coat to +be Mr. Dodge's. The finder of the coat hurried to the Dodge house, +and Mrs. Dodge hurriedly notified the police, asking Chief Coy +to keep the whole matter quiet. Jerry (Chief Coy) doesn't know +that we have a blessed word about this. But Jerry, his plain +clothes man, Hemingway, and two other officers are out on the +case. They have been on the job for nearly three hours. So far +they haven't learned a word. They can't drag the river until +daylight comes. Now, Prescott, what occurs to you as the thing +to do?" + +"I guess the only thing," replied Dick quietly, "is to find +Theodore Dodge." + +Mr. Bradley gasped. + +"Well, yes; you have the right idea, young man. But can you find +Dodge, Dick?" + +"When do you go to press?" + +"Latest at four o'clock in the morning." + +"I think I can either find Theodore Dodge, or else find where +he went to," Prescott replied, slowly. "Of course, that's brag---not +promise." + +"You get us the story---straight and in detail," cried Bradley, +eagerly, "and there'll probably be a bit extra in it for you---a +good bit, perhaps. If Dodge doesn't turn up without sensation +this is going to be our big story for a week. Dodge, you know, +is vice-president and actual head of the Second National Bank." + +"Whew!" thought Dave Darrin, to himself. "It's easy enough for +any suspicious person to imagine a story! But it might not be +the right one." + +"Some time ago," asked Dick thoughtfully, "didn't you publish +a story about some of the big amounts of insurance carried by +local rich men?" + +"Yes," nodded Bradley. + +"I think you stated that Theodore Dodge carried more than any +other citizen of Gridley." + +"Yes; he carries a quarter of a million dollars of insurance." + +"Is the insurance payable to his widow, or others---or to his +estate?" + +"I don't know," mused News Editor Bradley, a very thoughtful look +coming into his face. + +"Well, it's worth while finding out," pursued Dick. "See here, +suppose Dodge has been using the bank's funds, and found himself +in a corner that he couldn't get out of? Then, if the insurance +money goes to his widow, it would be hers, and no court could +take it from her for the benefit of his creditors. If it goes +to the estate, instead, then the insurance money, when paid over, +could be seized and applied to cover any shortage of the missing +man at the bank." + +"So that-----?" interrogated the news editor, his own eyes twinkling +shrewdly. + +"Why, in case---just in case, you understand---that Mr. Dodge +has gone and gotten himself into trouble over the bank's funds, +then it's probable that he has done one of two things. Either, +in despair he has killed himself, so that either his widow or +the bank will be protected. If the missing man didn't do away +with himself, then probably he has put up the appearance of suicide +in the hope that the officers of the law will be fooled of his +trail, and that either a wronged bank or a deserted wife might +get the insurance money. Of course, Mrs. Dodge might even be +a party to a contemplated fraud, though that's not a fair inference +against her unless something turns up to make it seem highly probable." + +"My boy," cried Mr. Bradley admiringly, "you've all the instincts +and qualities of the good newspaper man. I hope you'll take up +the work when you get through the High School. But now to business!" + +"Where do you want me to go? Where do you want me to take up +the trail? Where it started, just above the river bend? That's +out in the country, a mile and a half from here." + +"Darrin," begged the news editor, "won't you step to the 'phone +and ring up Getchel's livery stable? Ask the man in charge to +we want a horse with a little speed and a good deal of endurance." + +While Dave was busy at the wire Dick and the news editor talked +over the affair in low tones. + +"With the horse you can cover a lot of ground," suggested Bradley. +"And you're right about taking up the trail where it started. In +half an hour, if you don't strike something big, you can drive back +here on the jump for further orders. And don't forget the use of +the 'phone, if you're at a distance. Also, if you strike something, +and want to follow it further, you can have Darrin drive in with +anything that you've struck up to the minute. Hustle, both of you. +And, Darrin, we'll pay you for your trouble tonight." + +Horse and buggy were soon at the door. Dick sprang in, picking +up the reins. Dave leaped in at the other side. The horse started +away at a steady trot. + +"I hope those boys have brains enough not to go right past the +story," mused Bradley, gazing after the buggy before he went back +to his desk. "But I guess Prescott always has his head squarely +on his shoulders. He does, in school athletics, anyway. Len +Spencer is the man for this job, so of course Len had to be laid +up with a cold and fever that would make it murder to send him +out tonight." + +Horse and buggy were soon at the door. Dick sprang in, picking +up the reins. Dave leaped in at the other side. The horse started +away at a steady trot. + +"I hope those boys have brains enough not to go right past the +story," mused Bradley, gazing after the buggy before he went back +to his desk. "But I guess Prescott always has his head squarely +on his shoulders. He does, in school athletics, anyway. Len +Spencer is the man for this job, so of course Len had to be laid +up with a cold and fever that would make it murder to send him +out to-night." + +"Dick," muttered Dave excitedly, "you've simply got to make good. +This isn't simply a little paragraph to be scribbled. It's a +mystery and is going to be the sensation of the day. This is +the kind of story that full-fledged reporters on the great dailies +have to handle." + +"Yes," laughed Dick, "and those reporters never get flurried. +I'm not going to allow myself any excitement, either." + +"No, but you want to get the story---all of it." + +"Of course I do," Prescott agreed quietly. + +"If you do this in bang-up shape," Dave went on enthusiastically, +"it's likely to be the making of you!" + +"How?" queried Dick, turning around to his chum. + +"Why, success on a big story would fairly launch you in journalism. +It would provide your career as soon as you're through High School." + +"I don't want a career at the end of the High School course," +Dick returned. "I'm going further, and try to fare better in +life." + +"Wouldn't you like to be a newspaper man for good?" demanded Dave. + +"Not on a small-fry paper, anyway" replied Prescott. "Why, Bradley +is news editor, and has been in the business for years. He gets +about thirty dollars a week. I don't believe Pollock, who has +charge of the paper, gets more than forty-five. That isn't return +enough for a man who is putting in his whole life at the business." + +"Thirty dollars has the sound of pretty large money," mused Dave. +"As for forty-five, if that's what Mr. Pollock gets, look at the +comfort he lives in at his club; and he's a real estate owner, too." + +"Yes," Dick admitted. "But that's because Pollock follows two +callings. He's an editor and a dealer in real estate. As for +me, I'd rather put all my energies into one line of work." + +"Then you believe you're going to earn more money than Pollock +does?" questioned Dave, rather wonderingly. + +"If I pick out a career for income," Dick responded, "I do intend +to go in for larger returns. But I may go into another calling +where the pay doesn't so much matter." + +"Such as what?" + +"Dave, old fellow, can you keep a secret?" + +"Bosh! You know I can." + +"A big secret?" + +"Stop that!" + +"Well, I'll tell you, Dave. By and by there are going to be, +in this state, two appointments to cadetships at West Point. +Our Congressman will have one appointment. Senator Alden will +have the other. Now, in this state, appointments to West Point +are almost always thrown open to competitive examination. All +the fellows who want to go to West Point get together, at the +call, and are examined. The fellow who comes off best is passed +on to West Point to try his luck." + +"And you think you can prove that you're the brightest fellow +in the district?" laughed Dave good-humoredly. + +"There are to be two chances, and I think I can prove that I'm +one of the two brightest to apply. And Dave!" + +"Well?" + +"Why don't you go in to prove that you're the other brightest +fellow. Just think! West Point! And the Army for a life career!" + +"I think I'd rather scheme to go to the Naval Academy, and become +an officer of the Navy," returned Dave slowly. "The big battleships +appeal to me more than does the saddle of the cavalryman." + +"Go to Indianapolis?" muttered Dick, in near-disgust. "Well, +I suppose that will do well enough for a fellow who can't get +to West Point." + +"Now, see here," protested Dave good-humoredly, though warmly, +"you quit talking about Indianapolis. That's a favorite trick +with fellows who are cracked on West Point. You know, as well +as I do, that the Naval Academy is at Annapolis. There's a vacancy +ahead for Annapolis, too." + +"Oho! You've been thinking of that?" demanded Dick, again looking +into his chum's eyes. + +"Yes." + +"Yes; if I can come out best in a competitive examination of the +boys of this district." + +"Two secrets, then---yours and mine," grinned Prescott. "However, +it'll be easier for you." + +"Why?" + +"There aren't so many fellows eager to go to the Naval Academy. +It doesn't draw as hard as the Army does." + +"The dickens it doesn't!" ejaculated Dave Darrin. + +"No; the Navy doesn't catch young enthusiasm the way the Army +does. You won't have so many fellows to compete with as I shall," +said Dick. + +"I'll have twice as many---three times as many," flared Darrin. +"The Naval Academy is the only real and popular school in the +United Service." + +"Well, we won't quarrel," laughed young Prescott. "When the time +comes we'll probably find smarter young fellows ahead of us, headed +for both academies." + +"If you do fail on West Point-----?" quizzed Dave. + +"_If_ I do," declared Dick, with a very wistful emphasis on that +"if," "then, after getting through High School I'll probably try +to put in a year or two of hard work on 'The Blade,' to help my +parents put me through college. They're anxious to make me a +college man, and they'd work and save hard for it, but I wouldn't +be much good if I didn't try to earn a lot of the expense money. +One thing I'm resolved upon---I'm not going to go through life +as a half-educated man. It is becoming more true, every year, +that there's little show for the man with only the half-formed +mind." + +Then the two turned back to the subject that had brought them +out on this September night---the disappearance of Banker Theodore +Dodge. + +"In a minute or two we'll be in sight of the river bend," announced +Darrin. + +"There it is, now," nodded Dick, slowing down the horse and gazing +over yonder. "Some one is there, and looking hard for something." + +"Yes; I make out a couple of lanterns," assented Dave. "Well"---as +Dick pulled in the horse---"aren't you going to drive over there?" + +"That's what I want to think about," declared young Prescott. +"I want to go at the job the right way---the way that real newspapermen +would use." + + + + +CHAPTER III + +DICK STUMBLES ON SOMETHING + + +A few moments later Dick Prescott guided the horse down a shaded +lane. "Whoa!" he called, and got out. + +"What, now?" questioned Darrin, as his chum began to hitch the +horse to a tree. + +"I'm going to prowl over by the bend, and see who's there and +what they are doing." + +Having tied the horse, Dick turned and nodded to his friend to +walk along with him. + +"You know Bradley told us," Prescott explained, "that the police +do not know that Dodge's disappearance has leaked out to the press. +Most folks in Gridley know that I write for 'The Blade.' So I'm +in no hurry to show up among the searchers. I intend, instead, +to see what they're doing. By going quietly we can approach, +through that wood, and get close enough to see and hear without +making our presence known." + +"I understand," nodded Darrin. + +Within two or three minutes the High School reporter and his chum +had gained a point in the bushes barely one hundred and fifty +feet away from where two men and a boy, carrying between them +two lanterns, were closely examining the ground near the bank. +One of the men was Hemingway, who was a sort of detective on +the Gridley police force. The other man was a member of the uniformed +force, though just now in citizen's dress. The boy was Bert +Dodge, son of the missing banker, and one of the best football +men of the senior class of Gridley High School. + +"It's odd that we can't find where the trail leads to," the eavesdroppers +heard Hemingway mutter presently. + +"I'm afraid," replied young Dodge, with a slight choke in his +voice, "that our failure is due to the fact that water doesn't +leave any trail." + +"So you think your father drowned himself?" asked Hemingway, looking +sharply at the banker's son. + +"If he didn't, then some one must have pushed him into the river," +argued Bert, in an unsteady voice. + +"And I'm just about as much of the opinion," retorted Hemingway, +"that your father left his hat and coat here, or sent them here, +and didn't even get his feet wet." + +"That's preposterous," argued the son, half indignantly. + +"Well, there is the spot, right there, where the hat and coat +were found. Now, for a hundred feet away, either up or down stream, +the ground is soft. Yet there are no tracks such as your father +would have left had he taken to the water close to where he left +his discarded garments," argued Hemingway, swinging his lantern +about. + +"We've pretty well trodden down whatever footprints might have +been here," disputed Bert Dodge. "I shan't feel satisfied until +daylight comes and we've had a good chance to have the river +dragged." + +"Well, of course, it is possible you know of a reason that would +make your father throw himself into the river?" guessed Officer +Hemingway, with a shrewd glance at the son. + +"Neither my mother nor I know anything about my father that would +supply a reason for his suicide," retorted Bert Dodge stiffly. +"But I can't see any reason for believing anything except that +my poor dad must now be somewhere in the river." + +"We'll soon be able to do the best that we can do by night," rejoined +Hemingway. "Chief Coy has gone after a gasoline launch that carries +an electric search-light. As soon as he arrives we'll go all +over the river, throwing the light on every part of the water +in search of some further clue. There's no use, however, in trying +to do anything more around here. We may as well be quiet and +wait." + +"I can't stand still!" sounded Dodge's voice, with a ring of anguished +suspense in it. "I've got to keep hunting." + +"Go ahead, then," nodded the detective. "We would, too, if there +were anything further that could be looked into. But there isn't. +I'm going to stop and smoke until the launch heaves in sight." + +Both policemen threw themselves on the ground, produced pipes +and fell to smoking. But Bert Dodge, with the restlessness of +keen distress, continued to stumble on up and down along the +bank, flashing the lantern everywhere. + +Presently Dodge was within sixty feet of where his High School +mates crouched in hiding. + +Suddenly the livery stable horse, some four or five hundred feet +away, whinnied loudly, impatiently. + +Natural as the sound was, young Dodge, in the tense state of his +nerves, started and looked frightened. + +"Wh-what was that?" he gasped. + +"A horse," called Hemingway quietly. "Probably some critter passing +on the road." + +"I wish you'd see who's with that horse," begged young Dodge. +"It may bring us news. I'm going, anyway." + +With that, swinging the lantern, Bert Dodge started to cut across +through the woods with its fringe of bushes. + +Dave Darrin slipped away, and out of sight. Before Dick could +do so, however, young Dodge, moving at a fast sprint, was upon +him. + +Bert stopped as though shot when he caught sight of the other boy. + +"Dick Prescott?" he gasped. + +"Yes," answered Dick quietly. + +"What are you doing here?" + +"I came to see what news there is about the finding of your father." + +Hemingway had now reached the spot, with the other policeman some +yards to the rear. + +"You write for 'The Blade,' don't you?" challenged Bert. + +"Yes," Dick assented. + +"And 'The Blade' people sent you here?" cried Bert Dodge, in a +voice haughty with displeasure. + +"Perhaps 'The Blade' sent me here," Dick only half admitted. + +"Sent you here to pry into other people's affairs and secrets," +continued young Dodge impetuously. Then added, threateningly: + +"Don't you dare to print a word about this affair!" + +Dick looked quietly at young Dodge. + +"Did you hear me?" demanded Bert. + +"Yes." + +"Then what's your answer?" + +"That I heard you, Bert." + +"You young puppy!" cried Dodge, advancing threateningly. "Don't +you address me familiarly." + +"I don't care anything about addressing you at all," retorted +Prescott, flushing slightly under the insult. "At present I can +make allowances for you, for I fully understand how anxious you +are. But that is no real excuse for insulting me." + +"Are you going to heed me when I tell you to print nothing about +my father's disappearance?" insisted young Dodge. + +"That is something over which you really have no control," Dick +replied slowly, though not offensively. "I take all my orders +from my employers." + +"You young mucker!" cried Bert, in exasperation. "You print anything +about our family misfortunes, and I'll thrash you until you can't +see." + +"I won't answer that," Dick replied, "Until you make the attempt. +But, see here, Dodge, you should try to keep cool, and as close +to the line of gentlemanly speech and conduct as possible." + +"A nice one you are, to lecture me on that subject," jeered Bert +Dodge. "You---only a mucker! The son of-----" + +"Stop!" roared Dick, his face reddening. He advanced, his fists +clenched. "If you're going to say anything against my father +or mother, Bert Dodge, then stop before you say it! Before I +break your neck!" + +"Stop, both of you," interjected Hemingway, springing between +the white-faced High School boys. "No blows are going to be struck +while members of the police department are around. Dodge, of +course, you're upset and nervous, but you're not acting the way +a gentleman should, even under such circumstances." + +"Then drive that fellow away from here!" commanded Bert. + +"I can't," confessed the officer. "He is breaking no law, and +has as much right to be here as we have." + +"Oh, he objects to my saying anything against his father or mother, +but he's out tonight to throw all manner of slime on my father's +name," contended Bert Dodge. His voice broke under the stress +of his pent-up emotion. + +"You're wrong there, Dodge!" Dick broke in, forcing himself to +speak calmly. "I'm here to gather the facts on a matter of news, +but I am not out to throw any insinuations over your father, or +anyone whose good name is naturally precious to you. Sometimes +a reporter---even an amateur one---has to do things that are unpleasant, +but they're all in the line of duty." + +"'The Blade' won't print a line about this matter," raged Bert +tremulously. "Mr. Ripley is my father's friend, and his lawyer, +too. Mr. Ripley will go to your editor, and let him know what +is going to happen if that scurrilous sheet-----" + +Here Bert checked himself, for Dick had begun to smile coldly. + +"Confound you!" roared Bert Dodge. He leaped forward, intent +on striking the young junior down. But Officer Hemingway pushed +Dodge back forcefully. + +"Come, come, now, Dodge, we won't have any of that," warned the +officer. "And, if you want my opinion, you're not playing the +part of a gentleman just now. Prescott understands your state +of mind, however. He knows you're so upset, your mind so unhinged +by the family trouble that you're doing and saying things that +you'll be ashamed of by daylight." + +"I suppose, next, you'll be inviting this reported fellow to go +on the boat with us when it comes," sneered Bert Dodge. + +"That would be for the chief to say. Reporters are, usually, +allowed to go with the police. Come, come, Dodge," urged Hemingway, +laying a kindly hand on the young man's shoulder, "calm down and +understand that Prescott is not offering to make any trouble, +and that he has been very patient with a young fellow who finds +himself in a heap of trouble." + +"I can cut this short," offered Dick quietly. "I don't believe +it would be worth my while, Mr. Hemingway, to ask the chief's +permission to go on the boat with you. 'The Blade' can find out, +later, whether you discover anything on the river." + +"Where are you going, now?" demanded Bert unreasonably, as Prescott +turned away. + +"Back to the horse and buggy," Dick replied coolly. + +"Then I'm going with you, and see you start back to town," asserted +Bert Dodge. + +Hemingway did not interfere, but, leaving his brother policeman +at the river's edge, accompanied young Dodge. In a few minutes +they arrived at the spot in the lane where Dick had tied the horse. +Here they found Dave Darrin seated in the buggy. Dave glanced +unconcernedly at them all, nodding to Hemingway way, who returned +the salutation. + +"Now, I'll watch you start away from here," snapped Bert. + +"All right, then," smiled Dick, climbing in, after unhitching, +and picking up the reins. "I won't keep you long." + +With that, and a parting word to the policeman, Dick Prescott +drove away. + +"I saw Hemingway coming, and knew you wouldn't need me," Dave +explained with a laugh. "So, to save Bert a double attack of +nerves, I slipped off in the darkness, and came here. But what +on earth ails Dodge, anyway?" + +"Why, for one thing, he's worried to death about the disappearance +of his father," replied Dick Prescott. + +"I've seen people awfully worried before, and yet it didn't make +madmen of them," snorted Darrin. + +"Well---perhaps-----" + +Dick hesitated. + +"Well----?" Darrin insisted, rather impatiently. + +"I'm half inclined to think that Bert Dodge has been leading the +soreheads who sulk and won't play football in the same team with +some of us common fellows," Dick laughed. "If so, the very fact +of my being sent to look into the news side of his father's disappearance +would make Bert feel especially sore at me." + +"By George, you've hit the nail right on the head there," cried +Dave. "That's the trouble. Bert has been leading a kick that +was aimed very largely at Dick & Co., and now it almost puts him +out of his head to find that Dick Prescott, of all the fellows +in the school, has been sent by 'The Blade' to gather the facts +concerning Theodore Dodge's mysterious disappearance---or death." + +"Mr. Dodge isn't dead," replied Prescott slowly. + +"What? And say! Do you realize, Dick, that you're letting the +horse walk?" + +"I intended to," returned Dick. "Whoa!" + +"There's a boat coming up the river and showing a search-light," +broke in Dave, pointing. + +"I saw it. That's why I stopped the horse. It must be Chief +Coy's launch that he went after. Yes; there it is, putting in +where we first saw Bert Dodge and the officers." + +"Well, if you're not going to keep track of the launch, why don't +you hit a fast gait for the office?" queried Darrin. + +"There is plenty of time yet," Dick replied, "and we've nothing +to report to the office yet. I'm just waiting for that boat +to take on its passengers and get well away from the spot." + +"Oh!" guessed Dave. "Then you're going back and make your own +search of the place?" + +"You're clever," nodded Prescott, with a low laugh. "Yes; it +may be that Hemingway and his companion have made a fine search. +Or it may be that they've missed clues that a blind man ought +to see." + +So the two High School boys sat there, in the buggy drawn up at +the side of the road, for the next fifteen minutes. In that time +the launch took on the waiting passengers, and the light played +over all that part of the river, then started down stream. + +Dick slowly headed the horse about, this time driving much closer +to the river's bank than he had done before. + +"There's a lantern under the seat, Dave. I saw it when we started +from 'The Blade' office. Haul it out and light it, will you?" + +For some minutes the two High School boys searched without much +result. At last Dick and Dave began to move in wider circles, +away from the much-tramped ground. Then, holding the lantern +close to the ground, Prescott moved nearer and nearer to the railway +track, all the while scanning the soil closely. + +"Look there, Dave!" suddenly called Prescott. "No-----Don't look +just yet," he added, holding the lantern behind him. "But tell +me; you've often seen Mr. Dodge. What kind of boots did he wear?" + +"Narrow, pointed shoes, and rather high heeled for a man to wear," +Darrin answered. + +"Exactly," nodded Dick. "Look there!" + +Darrin bent down over a soft spot in the soil close to the railway +roadbed. There were three prints of just such a boot as he had +described. + +"You see the small heel print," continued Prescott, in a whisper. +"And you note that the front part of the foot makes a heavy impression, +as it would when the foot is tilted forward by a high heel." + +"I don't believe another man in the town ever wore a pair of boots +such as made these prints," murmured Darrin excitedly. "And they're +headed away from the river, toward the railroad! And look here---other +footprints of a different kind!" + +"You're right!" cried Prescott, holding the lantern closer to +the ground and scanning some additional marks in the soil. "Coarse +shoes; one pair of 'em brogans! Mr. Dodge had companions when +he went away from here." + +"They may have been forcing the man somewhere with them," quivered +Darrin, staring off into the black night about them. + +"No; not a sign of a struggle," argued Dick, still with his gaze +on the ground. "No matter who Mr. Dodge's companions were, he +went with them willingly. Gracious, Dave, but we were right in +believing the banker to be still alive! Coat and hat at the water's +edge were a blind! Mr. Dodge has his own reasons for wanting +people to think him dead. He has sloped away. Here's the track. +Which way did he and the fellows go?" + +"Away from Gridley," declared Darrin, sagely. "Otherwise, Mr. +Dodge would have been seen by some one who would remember him." + +"We'll go up along the track, then." + +This they did, but the roadbed was hard. Besides, anyone walking +on the ties would leave no trail. It was slow work, holding the +lantern close to the ground and scanning every step, besides swinging +the lantern out to light up either side of their course. Yet +both lads were so tremendously interested that they pushed on, +heedless of the flight of time. + +They had gone a mile or more up the track, "inching" it along, +when they came upon an unmistakable print of Mr. Dodge's oddly +pointed boot and narrow, high heel. They found, too, the print +of a brogan within six feet of the same point. + +"This is the way Dodge and his queer companions came," exulted +Dave. + +"But I don't believe they followed the track much further," argued +Prescott, pointing ahead at the signal lights of a small crossing +station. "If Mr. Dodge were trying to get away from public gaze +he wouldn't go by a station where usually half a dozen loungers +are smoking and talking with the station agent." + +"We're lucky to have the trail this far," observed Dave Darrin. +"But we can't follow it accurately at night. Say---gracious! +Do you know what time it is? Half-past one in the morning!" + +"Wow?" ejaculated Prescott, halting and looking dismayed. "It'll +take us a good many minutes to get back to where we left the horse. +It'll be after two o'clock when we hit 'The Blade' office. Dave, +we simply can't follow the trail further tonight. But we must +strike it first thing in the morning. It'll be a big thing for +'The Blade' to be the folks to find the missing banker and clear +the mystery up." + +"Unless Dodge just kept on until he came to one of the stations, +and took a train. Then the trail would be a long one." + +"He didn't take a train tonight," returned Prescott, shaking his +head. "If he wanted to disappear that would be the wrong way +to go about it. He'd be recognized from the descriptions that +will go about broadcast. No, sir! Mr. Dodge must be hiding in +some of the big stretches of woods over yonder. A regiment could +hide and be lost in the great woods." + +"It's a trail I hate to leave," muttered Dave Darrin. + +"But we've got to wait until daylight. We can't do much in the +dark, anyway. I've got to get back to 'The Blade' office. Get +your bearings here, Dave. To make doubly sure I'll cut a slice +out of this tie to mark the place where we found this print, for +it may be indistinct by daylight." + +Marking the location Dick Prescott wheeled and began to hurry +back, followed by Darrin. In due time they reached the buggy, +took the light blanket from the horse, unhitched and jumped in. +Fast driving took them to "The Blade" office. + +"You didn't learn anything, did you?" questioned Bradley. + +"Yes; we did," Dick informed him. "The police, with their launch +didn't get any trace of Mr. Dodge, did they?" + +"No," admitted the news editor. "I've talked with Hemingway within +the last hour. The police will begin dragging the river by daylight." + +"They won't find the banker that way," chuckled Dick. "He's alive." + +"Have you seen him?" demanded the news editor. + +"No; and I'm not going to say too much now, either," returned +Dick, with unusual stubbornness. "But 'The Blade' wants to take +the keynote that Theodore Dodge is alive, and will turn up. I +believe Dave and I are going to make him turn up during the next +spell of daylight." + +"We surely are!" laughed Darrin. + +Mr. Bradley pressed them close with questions, but neither boy +was inclined to reveal the secret of the trail along the railway +roadbed. + +"We're going to keep it all as our own scoop," Dick insisted. +"And please, Mr. Bradley, don't post the police about our idea. +If you do, the police will get the credit. If we keep quiet, +'The Blade' will get all the credit that is coming." + +The news editor laid before Dick all the proofs and copy that +had been prepared so far on the absorbing mystery of the night. +Prescott made some newsy additions to the story, and through +it all took the confident keynote that the vanished banker would +soon be heard from in the flesh. + +The work done, and Bradley having already seen to the return of +the horse to the livery stable, Dick and Dave went into an unused +room, where they threw themselves down on piles of old papers. +Tired out, they slept without stirring. But they had left a +note for the office boy who was due at six o'clock to sweep out +the business office. + +That office boy came in and called the High School pair at a few +minutes after six. Dick's first thought was to instruct the boy +to telephone the Prescott and Darrin homes at seven in the morning, +sending word that the two boys were safe but busy. Then Dick +hastily led the way to a quick-order restaurant near by. Here +the boys got through with breakfast as quickly as they could. +That done, they bought sandwiches, which they put into their +pockets. + +As they came out of the eating house the streets were still far +from crowded. Laborers were going to their toil, but it was yet +too early for the business men of the city to be on their way +to offices, or clerks to the stores. + +"Now, let's get out of the town in a jiffy," proposed Dick. "We +don't want to have many folks observing which way we go. We'll +travel fast right up along the railway track." + +Once started, the two boys kept going briskly. Both had been +drowsy at the outset, but the impulse of discovery had them in +its grip now, and fatigue was quickly forgotten. + +Something more than half an hour after the start the boys halted +beside the tie that Prescott had whittled in the dark a few hours +before. + +"There are the footprints," quivered Dave, staring hard. + +"They're not as distinct as they were a few hours ago," replied +Dick. "Still, I think we can follow them. I'm glad they lead +toward the woods." + +"Yes," Darrin agreed. "The direction of the footprints shows +that Mr. Dodge and his companions didn't have any notion of boarding +a train and getting out of this part of the world." + +Yet, though both of these young newspaper hounds were keen to +follow the trail, they did not find it any easy matter. Dick +and Dave reached the edge of the woods. Then, for a short time, +they were obliged to explore carefully ere they came again upon +one of the bootmarks of fastidious Banker Dodge. It was a hundred +feet further on, in a bit of soft mould, that the next bootprint +was found. Had these two High School boys been more expert trackers +they would have found a fairly continuous trail, but their untrained +eyes lacked the ability to see other signs that would have been +evident to a plainsman. + +So their progress was slow, indeed. They could judge only by +the direction in which each last footprint was pointed, and they +had to remember that one wandering through the woods might travel +over a course whose direction frequently changed. + +"Dave," whispered Prescott, "I think we had better separate a +little. We might go along about a hundred feet apart. In that +way there is more chance that we'll come sooner upon the next +print." + +There were perhaps six hundred feet into the woods, by this time, +and stood looking down at the fifth footmark they had found. + +"All right," nodded Darrin. "We're a pair of rank amateurs at +this kind of work, anyway." + +"Amateurs or not," murmured Dick, with a smile? "we seem to be +the only folks in Gridley who are on the right track in this mystery +at present." + +"I'm full of misgivings, anyway," muttered Dave. + +"Why?" + +"I can't help feeling that we should have turned our news over +to Chief Coy or Hemingway. + +"Again, why?" + +"Well, if we lose our man now, we'll soon feel that we ought to +have turned the whole thing over to the police while the trail +was fresh." + +"Dave, don't you know, well enough, that newspapers do more than +the police, nowadays, in clearing up mysteries?" + +"This may be more than a mystery," hinted Dave. "Even if we get +through to the end of this trail---or mystery we may find a crime +at that end." + +"All the more need, then, for moving on fast. See here, Dave, +I'll follow just the way this footprint points. You get out a +hundred feet or so to the right. And we'll move as fast as we +can, now." + +The wisdom of this plan was soon apparent, for it was Dave Darrin +who discovered the next footprint. He summoned Dick Prescott +with a sharp hiss. + +"Yes; all right," nodded Dick, joining his comrade and gazing +down at one of the narrow bootmarks. "But don't send a long signal +again, Dave. We might be close, and warn some one out of our +way." + +"What shall we do, then?" + +"We'll look frequently at each other, and the fellow who discovers +anything will make signs to the other." + +Three minutes later Dick Prescott crouched low behind a line of +bushes, his eyes glistening as he peered and listened. Then he +began to make wildly energetic signals to Dave Darrin. + +The head partner of Dick & Co. had fallen upon something that +interested him---tremendously! + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE "SOREHEADS" IN CONCLAVE + + +Dave Darrin came stealing over, as soft-footed as any panther. + +Dick did not turn around to look at his chum. He merely held +up a cautioning hand, and Darrin moved even more stealthily. + +In another moment Dave's head was close to his chum's, and both +young men were gazing upon the same scene. + +"Davis and Fremont-----" whispered Darrin in his chum's ear. + +"Bayliss, Porter and Drayne," Dick nodded back, softly. + +"Trenhold, Grayson, Hudson," continued Darrin. + +"All the 'soreheads,'" finished Dick Prescott for him. + +"Or nearly all," supplemented Dave. + +Indeed, the scene upon which these two High School boys gazed +was one that greatly interested them. + +On a little knoll, just beyond the line of bushes, and on lower +ground, fully a dozen young men lounged, basking in the morning +sun, which poured through upon this small, treeless space. + +Though the young men down in the knoll were not carefully attired, +there was a general similarity in their dress. All wore sweaters, +and nearly all of them wore cross-country shoes. Evidently the +whole party had been out for a cross country run. + +Now, the dozen or so were eagerly engaged in conversation. + +"It's too bad Purcell won't join us," remarked Davis. + +"Yes," nodded another fellow in the group; "he belongs with us." + +"Oh, well," spoke up Bayliss, "if Purcell would rather be with +the muckers, let him." + +"Now, let's not be too rank, fellows," objected Hudson slowly. +"I wouldn't call all the fellows muckers who don't happen to +belong in our crowd." + +"What would you call 'em then?" growled Bayliss angrily. "Time +was when only the fellows of the better families expected to go +to High School, on their way to college. Now, every day-laborer's +son seems to think he ought to go to High School-----" + +"And be received with open arms, on a footing of equality," sneered +Porter. + +"It's becoming disgusting," muttered Bayliss. "Not only do these +cheap fellows expect to go to the High School, but they actually +want to run the school affairs." + +"I suppose that's natural, to some extent," speculated Porter. + +"Why?" demanded Bayliss, turning upon the last speaker in amazement. + +"Why, the sons of the poorer families are in a majority, nowadays," +returned Hudson. + +"Say, you're getting almost as bad as Purcell," warned Porter. + +"If I am, I apologize, of course," responded Hudson. + +"I've no real objection to the sons of poorer men coming to the +High School," vouchsafed Paulson, meditatively. "But you know +the cream, the finer class of the High School student body, has +always centered in the school's athletic teams. And now-----" + +"Yes; and now-----" broke in Bayliss harshly. + +"Why, these fellows, who are not much more than tolerated in the +High School, or ought not to be, make the most noise at the meets +of the training squads," continued Paulson. + +"And some of 'em," growled Fremont, "actually have the cheek to +carry off honors in scholarship, too. Take Dick Prescott, for +instance." + +"Oh, let the muckers have the scholarship honors, if that's all +they want," retorted Bayliss "A gentleman hasn't much need of +scholarship, anyway, if he's an all-around, proper fellow in every +other respect. But the, gang that call themselves Dick & Co. +are a fair sample of the muckers that we have to contend with." + +"No," objected Fremont; "they're the very worst of the lot in +the High School. Why, look at the advertising those fellows get +for themselves. And not one of them of good family." + +"Fellows of good, prominent families don't have to advertise themselves," +observed Bayliss sagely. + +It was plain that by "good" family was meant one of wealth. These +young men had little else in the way of a standard. + +"It makes me cranky," observed Whitney, "to see the way a lot +of the girls seem to notice just such fellows as Prescott, Darrin, +Reade, Dalzell---fellows who, by rights, ought to be through with +their schooling and earning wages as respectful grocery clerks +or decent shoe salesmen." + +"But this talk isn't carrying us anywhere," objected Bayliss. +"The question is, what are we going to do with the football problem +this year? We don't want to play in the same eleven with the +cheap muckers, and have 'em think they're the whole eleven. The +call for the football training squad is due to go up some time +next week." + +"Bert Dodge says-----" interrupted Paulson. + +"Yes, Dodge is the fellow I wish we had here with us today," interposed +Bayliss. "Dodge is the one we ought to listen to." + +"Poor Dodge has his own troubles today," murmured Hudson. + +"Yes; I know---poor fellow," nodded Bayliss. "I wish we fellows +could help him, but we can't." + +"I was talking with Dodge yesterday, before his own troubles broke +loose," went on Hudson. "Dodge's idea is that we ought all to +keep away when the football squad is called. Then Coach Morton +may get an idea of how things are going, and he may see just what +he ought to do." + +"But suppose the muckers all answer the call in force?" inquired +Trenholm. "What are we to do then?" + +"We're to keep out of the squad this year," responded Bayliss +promptly. "See here, either we fellows organize the Gridley High +School eleven ourselves, and decide who shall play in it, or else +we stay out and let the muckers go ahead and pile up a record +of lost games this year." + +"That's hard on good old Gridley High School," murmured Hudson. + +"True," agreed Fremont. "But it'll teach the town, the school +authorities, the coach and after this year, that only the prominent +fellows in the school should have any voice in athletics. Let +the muckers be content with standing behind the side lines and +rooting for the real High School crowd." + +"Shall we put it to a vote?" asked Bayliss, looking about him. + +"Yes!" answered several promptly. + +"Then, as I understand it," continued Bayliss, "when the football +call goes up, we're all to ignore it. We're to continue to ignore +the call, and keep out of the school football squad this year, +unless the coach and the Athletics Committee agree that we shall +have the naming of the candidates. Is that the general agreement +among ourselves?" + +"Yes!" came the chorus. + +"Any contrary votes?" + +Momentary silence reigned in this conclave of "soreheads." + +"Yet," continued Bayliss, "we've started training among ourselves. +This morning's cross-country is part of our daily training. +If we have to refuse the football call, and stay out of the squad, +are we to drop our present training?" + +"Hardly, I should say," responded Fremont. "I have something +to suggest in that line. If we can't go into what is really a +gentleman's eleven under the High School colors, I propose that +we organize an eleven of our own, and call ourselves simply the +Gridley Football Club. We can bring out an eleven that would +put things all over any school team that the muckers could organize +without our help." + +"We wouldn't play the muckers, would we?" demanded Trenholm. + +"Certainly not!" retorted Bayliss, with contemptuous emphasis. + +"We won't even know that a mucker High School team is on earth," +laughed Porter. + +"I think we understand the plan well enough, now, don't we?" inquired +Blaisdell, rising. + +"We do," nodded Porter. "And we'll all do our full share toward +bringing control of High School affairs back to the aristocratic +leadership that it once had." + +"Hoist our banners, and let them proclaim: 'Down with the muckers!'" +laughed Hudson, rolling up the hem of his sweater. + +"We want a good, not too fast but steady jog back to town," announced +Bayliss. + +At the first sign that the "soreheads" were preparing to leave +the spot Dick had taken advantage of their noise to slip away. +Dave had followed him successfully. + +Then, from another hiding place these two prowling juniors, grinning, +watched the "soreheads" move away at a loping run. + +"We certainly know all we need to about that crowd," muttered +Dick, a half-vengeful look in his eyes. "The snobs!" + +"Oh, they're cads, all right," assented Dave. "Yet that bunch +of fellows contains some of the material that is needed in putting +forth the best High School team this year!" + +"Humph!" commented Dave disgustedly. "Yet, Dick, I was almost +surprised that you would stop and listen, without letting the +fellows know you were there." + +"It does seem sneaky, at first thought," Prescott admitted, almost +shamefacedly. + +"Hold on there!" ordered Dave. "I don't believe you'd do a thing +like that, Dick Prescott, unless you had an honorable reason for +it." + +"I did it because the honor of the High School is so precious +to me---to us all," Dick replied. "We want to put forth a winning +team, as Gridley High School has always done. Now, these 'soreheads' +aim to defeat that by keeping a few of the best players off the +eleven. I listened, Dave, because I wanted to know what the trouble +was, and just who was making it. Now, I guess I know how to deal +with the 'sore-heads.' I'll make them ashamed of themselves." + +"How?" + +"One thing at a time, Dave. In our excitement we've almost forgotten +that we started out to find Theodore Dodge and clear up the mystery +of his disappearance." + + + + +CHAPTER V + +AT THE END OF THE TRAIL + + +"The further we go the more mysterious this becomes," mused Dick, +as he and Darrin stood together over a clump of faintly-marked +footprints, a quarter of an hour later. + +"How does the mystery increase?" Darrin inquired. + +"For one thing, we don't always find the bootmarks of the men +who were with Mr. Dodge. Yet once in a while we do. There are +the prints of all three. When Theodore Dodge passed by this way +the other two men were with him, or had him in sight. And our +course shows that the three were plunging deeper and deeper into +the woods. But come along. There must be an end to this, somewhere." + +Ten minutes later Prescott and Darrin felt that they had come +to the end of the mystery. For the faint trail had led them up +a slight, stony slope, and now the two boys lay flat on the ground. + +Below them, in a bush-clad hollow, two miles from the world in +general, stood a little, old, ramshackle shanty. The location +was one that seekers would hardly have found without a trail to +lead them to it. + +To the door of this shanty a broad-shouldered, rough-looking and +powerful fellow of forty had just come. The man, who was poorly +clad, wore brogans, and held in his right hand a weighty, ugly-looking +club. The fellow was smoking a short-stemmed pipe, and now stood, + with his left hand shading his eyes, peering off at the surrounding +landscape. + +Dick and Dave hugged the ground more closely behind their screen +of bushes. + +"It's all right, Bill," announced the lookout in the doorway. + +"'Course this," growled a voice from the inside. "Too far from +the main line o' travel for anyone to be spying around. Besides, +no one guesses-----" + +"Well, you can go to sleep if ye wanter, Bill. I'm goin' ter +sit up and smoke." + +With that the brogan-shod man disappeared inside the shanty. +Dick and Dave glanced at each other with eager interest. + +"I wonder whether they have Mr. Dodge in there with them?" breathed +Dick, in his ear. + +"If Mr. Dodge is in there he's keeping amazingly quiet," Darrin +responded doubtingly. + +"Within a very few minutes," Prescott rejoined, "I'm going to know +whether Mr. Dodge is in that shanty." + +"We found his footprint close enough near here," argued Dave. + +"Yes, and I feel sure enough that Mr. Dodge is there. But why +don't we hear something from him? The whole business is so uncanny +that it gives one that creepy feeling." + +For a full quarter of an hour the two chums remained hidden, barely +stirring. From the shanty, at first, came crooning tones, as +though the man in brogans were humming over old songs to himself. +Occasionally there was a snore; evidently Bill was drowsing the +day away. + +"Now, I'm going down there," whispered Dick. + +"Look out the big fellow doesn't catch you," warned Darrin. "I've +an idea he'd beat you to a pulp if he caught you." + +"I'm not as big as he is," admitted Dick, grinning, "but I think +I might prove as fast as he on my feet." + +As Prescott started to steal down into the hollow Dave reached +about him, gathering all the fair-sized stones within reach. + +"If Dick has to come from there on the rim," soliloquized Darrin, +"a few stones hurled at the face of that ugly-looking customer +might hold him back for a while. And I used to be called a pretty +fair pitcher!" + +Prescott, in the meantime, was stealing around the shanty, applying +his eyes to some tiny cracks. + +At last he turned, making straight and cautiously up the slope. + +As he came near, Dick sent Dave a signal that made that latter +youth throb with expectancy. + +"Yes! We've found Theodore Dodge!" whispered young Prescott eagerly. +"He's in there, lying on the floor, bound and gagged." + +"Whew! And what is Mr. Brogans doing?" + +"Sitting on the floors smoking and playing solitaire with a dirty +pack of cards. The other rascal, Bill, is sleeping at a great +rate." + +"What are we going to do now?" + +"Dave, are you willing to stay here, hiding and keeping watch +on the place?" + +"Surely," nodded Darrin, with great promptness. + +"If the wretches should try to take Mr. Dodge away from here-----" + +"I'll follow 'em, of course." + +"And leave a paper trail," nodded Dick. + +"Here is all the paper I have in my pockets," he added. + +"I have some, too," muttered Dave. + +"I'll be back as speedily as I can get help." + +"You ought not to be gone more than an hour." + +"Not as long as that, I hope. Goodbye, Dave, and look out for +yourself." + +After going the first hundred yards Dick Prescott let himself +out into a loping run, very much like that used by the "soreheads" +in getting back to town. With a trained runner the cross-country +style of running is suited for getting over long distances at +fair speed. + +Twenty minutes later young Prescott reached a farm house in which +there was a telephone. He asked permission to use the instrument. + +"Go right in the parlor, and help yourself," replied the farmer's +wife. + +As Dick rang on, and stood waiting, transmitter at his ear, he +first thought of calling for the police station. + +"No, I won't, either," he muttered. "This belongs to my paper. +Let them tip off the police. Hello! Give me 'The Blade' office, +Gridley, please." + +Dick waited patiently a few moments. Then: + +"Hullo! 'The Blade?' This is Prescott. Is Mr. Pollock there? +He is? Good! Tell him I want to speak with him." + +Then Mr. Pollock's voice sounded over the wire. + +"Hullo, Prescott! Why aren't you on hand, with that big Dodge +story hanging over our heads? Why, it brought me down hours before +fore my time." + +"Pollock, I've found Dodge," replied Dick Composedly. "At least, +Darrin and I-----" + +"What's that!" broke in the editor's excited voice. "You've found +Dodge? Alive?" + +As rapidly as he could young Prescott told the story. Mr. Pollock +listened gladly. + +"Now, where are you, Prescott?" + +Dick told Mr. Pollock the name of the farmer from whose home he +was telephoning. + +"Just you wait there, Prescott. And, oh!---pshaw! I came near +forgetting to tell you the biggest news of all---for you. Mrs. +Dodge this morning offered a thousand dollars' reward for the +finding of her husband, dead or alive. You'll get that reward---you +and Darrin! But I've no more time to talk. Stay right where +you are until I reach you." + +Nor was it long before Dick, pacing by the farmyard gate, saw +an automobile approaching at a lively clip. In it were the chauffeur +and Editor Pollock. + +The latter waved his hand wildly when he caught sight If his High +School reporter. + +Right begged this automobile sped another, in which sat Chief Coy, +Officer Hemingway and a uniformed policeman, in addition to the +chauffeur. + +"We didn't lose much time, did we?" hailed Mr. Pollock, as the +first auto slowed up "Jump in, quick! Show us the way." + +"I suppose there's some excitement down in Gridley, about this +time?" laughed Dick, as the two autos raced along once more. + +"Not a bit," replied the editor. "And for the very simple reason +that no one knows that Dodge has been found." + +"His family know it, of course?" queried Dick. + +"No; not a word. Chief Coy kept it quiet, and asked me to do +the same. He didn't want the Dodge family all stirred up by false +hopes in case you had made a mistake. The silence will keep 'The +Evening Mail' from learning the news for a while. And I've had +our forms left standing. We're all ready to run out an extra +---in case you haven't made a mistake, Prescott," added Mr. Pollock +quizzically. + +Dick smiled resignedly at this implied doubt. But the autos were +making fast time, and soon the machines had gone as far on the +way as they could be used. + +"Now we'll have to get out and strike across country, through +the woods," Prescott called. + +So far Dick had resolutely tried to keep out of his mind any thought +of that thousand-dollar reward. It sounded too much like "Blood +money" to take pay for helping any afflicted family out of its +troubles. Besides, it had been the glory of doing a piece of +bright newspaper work that had allured the two High School boys +at the outset. + +"Yet a thousand dollars is---a thousand dollars!" Dick couldn't +help feeling, wistfully, as he piloted his party across fields +and through the woods. "A thousand dollars! Five hundred apiece +for Dave and me! What a fearful big lot of money! What we could +do with it, If we had it! I wonder whether it would be right +and decent to take it?" + +Then, as he neared the place where he had left his chum on post +Dick Prescott found other and anxious thoughts crowding into his +mind. + +Was Dave Darrin, staunch and reliable Dave---still there, on +post, and unharmed? + +Was Theodore Dodge there? Were his captors still with him? + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE SMALL SOUL OF A GENTLEMAN + + +A few minutes later all fears and doubts were dispelled. + +Dave Darrin rose to greet the newcomers informing them, in a whisper, +that all was still well in the old shanty below. + +He of the brogans and club heard a slight noise outside. Swiftly +he rose and darted to the door, ready to pounce. + +But he beheld the policemen, with the newspaper trio just behind +them. More, Chief Coy and his subordinates had their revolvers +drawn. + +"Howdy, gents?" was Mr. Brogans' greeting as he dropped his club +and tried to grin. + +"Take care of him, Hemingway," directed Thief Coy, briefly. + +"Me?" demanded Brogans, in feigned astonishment. "What have _I_ +done?" + +The noise roused Bill, who sprang up. But Bill must have found +the police wonderfully soothing, for he quieted down at once. + +Both rascals were taken care of. Then Theodore Dodge was found +lying bound and gagged on the floor. A ragged, foul-smelling +coat had been substituted for the one that had been left at the +river's bank. The banker looked up at the intruders with a stupefied +leer, betraying neither alarm or pleasure. + +As soon as the two rough-looking fellows had been handcuffed Mr. +Dodge was freed, and his tongue also, but Chief Coy, after raising +the banker and questioning him, muttered: + +"Clean out of his head. Daffy. Must have wandered away from +Gridley during a loony streak. He isn't over it yet." + +The two rough-looking ones protested loudly against being deprived +of their liberty. + +"I don't really know that you fellows have done anything," admitted +Chief Coy. "But I'm taking you along on suspicion that it was +you, and not Mr. Dodge himself, who bound and gagged him." + +This retort, given with a great deal of dry sarcasm, silenced +the prisoners for the time being. + +"We ought to have this out an hour before 'The Evening Mail' people," +exulted Editor Pollock. "Prescott, my boy, you're a born reporter! +And, Darrin, you're not much behind." "Theodore Dodge found by +two "Blade" reporters! That won't sound bad!" + +The briefest questioning was enough to show that Theodore Dodge +was in no condition to give any account of himself. He did not +reply with an intelligible word. His eyes held only a vacant +stare. It was as though memory and reason had suddenly snapped +within his brain. + +"The doctors will want him," commented Chief Coy. "And we can't +be hustling back a bit too soon." + +It had been a gloomy morning at the home of Banker Dodge. + +Through the night, none had slept. Anxiety had kept them all +on the rack. + +Mrs. Dodge, a thin and nervous woman, had gone from one spell +of hysterics into another, as morning neared. A trained nurse +had to be sent for. + +Then in a calm lull Mrs. Dodge had telephoned for Lawyer Ripley, +who lost his breakfast through the speed with which he obeyed +the summons of the distracted wife. + +As a result of the lawyer's visit the reward of a thousand dollars +had been offered. + +The house was quiet again. Dr. Bentley, having been called for +the third time, had administered an opiate, and Mrs. Dodge was +sleeping. The other members of the family tip-toed restlessly +about. + +Bert Dodge felt in a peculiarly "mean" frame of mind that morning. +The young man simply could not remain in one spot. The more +he had thought, through and through the night, the more he had +become convinced that his father had killed himself because of +some entanglement in the bank's affairs. + +"And I'll be pointed out as the defaulter's son," thought Bert +bitterly. "Oh, why couldn't the guv'nor think of some one besides +himself! We'll have to move away from Gridley, of course. But +the disgrace will follow us anywhere we may go. Oh, it's +awful---awful! Of course, I'm not in any way to blame. But, oh! +What a disgrace!" + +It was well along in the forenoon when Bayliss, returning homeward +in sweater and running togs, espied Bert's white, wan face near +the front door. Bayliss signaled cordially to young Dodge, who, +glad of this kindliness at such a time, went down the walk to +the gate. + +"No news of your father yet, I suppose?" asked Bayliss. + +"No," sighed Bert. + +"Too bad, old fellow!" + +"Yes; the uncertainty is pretty tough on us all," Dodge replied. + +"Oh, you'll hear before the day is out, and the news will be all +right, too," declared Bayliss, with well-meant cheeriness. "Then +you'll be with us on the morning cross-countries again. We missed +you a whole lot this morning, Bert." + +"Did you?" asked young Dodge, brightening. + +"Yes; and, by the way, we've decided on our course---for our set, you +know. We're going to ignore the football call next week. If Coach +Morton asks us any questions, then we'll let him know how the +land lies. We won't try to make the High School team if the muckers +are allowed the same show. We'll have a select crowd on the eleven, +this year, or else all of our set will stay off." + +"The muckers have some good football men among them, too," grumbled +Bert. "Of course for that gang that call themselves Dick & Co +we can't any more than make guesses. But some of them would be +handy on an eleven I guess." + +"Yes; if they were not muckers," agreed Bayliss loftily. "But +there are enough of our own kind to make as good an eleven as +Gridley High School ever had." + +"It's a pity we can't get up our own eleven play the muckers, +just once, and beat them out for the right to represent Gridley." + +"It wouldn't be so bad an idea. But they might beat us," retorted +Bayliss dryly. "So, on the whole, our fellows have decided not +to pay any heed whatever to Dick & Co. or any of the other muckers. +After this the line must be drawn, at High School, between the +gentlemen and the other kind." + +"All plans looking in that direction will have my hearty support," +pledged Bert Dodge. + +"I know it, old fellow." + +"It's queer that the question never came up before about the muckers," +Bert mused. + +"We never had Dick & Co. in school athletics, until last year," +replied Bayliss significantly. + +"That fellow, Prescott, is about the worst-----" + +Bert Dodge stopped right there. Bayliss, too, started and turned. +Around the nearest corner some folks were making a big noise. Then +around the corner came two autos, while a crowd raced along on the +sidewalks. + +"Hurrah! Mr. Dodge is found. Dick Prescott and Dave Darrin found +him!" shouted a score of urchins in the crowd. + +Bert and Bayliss both gasped. Then the autos slowed up at the +curb before the gate. The police prisoners were still in the +second car. + +Bert took a look, recognized his father, despite the strange look +in that parent's face. + +"Help them bring my father in, Bayliss!" called young Dodge. +"I'll run to prepare the folks." + +In another moment there was a turmoil of excitement inside the +Dodge house. While the excitement was still going on Bert came +out to inform the crowd that both his father and mother needed +quiet and medical attendance. Bert begged the crowd to go away +quietly. + +Dick and Dave were standing before the gateway way while Editor +Pollock answered some of the queries of the crowd. + +"Great luck for you fellows, Prescott and Barren!" called some +one in the crowd. "You two will know what to do with a thousand +dollars' reward!" + +Bert Dodge wheeled about like a flash, and facing Dave and Dick, +shouted: + +"If that's what you two fellows are hanging around here for, +you'd better clear out! Take it from me that you fellows will +get no thousand dollars, or ten cents, out of our family!" + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE FOOTBALL NOTICE GOES UP + + +Mr. Pollock, usually a very calm man, wheeled upon young Dodge. + +"My lad, when you find out what Prescott and Darrin have done in +the way of rescuing your father, you'll feel wholly ashamed of +yourself. I don't believe either young man has given a second +thought to the reward." + +People in a crowd take sides quickly. Bert heard several muttered +remarks from the bystanders that made him flush. Then, choking +and angry, he turned and darted for the house. + +By this time Mr. Pollock, Dick and Dave were speeding for "The Blade" +office. + +Already a run had started on the Second National Bank. A crowd +filled the counting room and extended out onto the sidewalk. +Their depositors, largely small business men and people who ran +private check accounts, were frightfully nervous about their money. + +Up to noon the bank paid all demands, though the accounts were +adjusted slowly, while the crowd grew in numbers outside. At +noon the Second National availed itself of its privilege of closing +its doors promptly at that hour on Saturday. + +Dick Prescott wrote with furious speed at "The Blade" office. +In another room Mr. Pollock wrote from the facts supplied by +Dave Darrin. In half an hour from the time these three entered +the office the "Extra" was out on the street---fifteen minutes +ahead of "The Mail," which latter newspaper contained very little +beyond the fact that Mr. Dodge had been found, and that he was +now under the care of his family. "The Mail" stated that the +discovery had been made by "two High School boys" aiding the police, +and did not name either Dick or Dave. + +On Monday the bank examiner arrived. He made a quick inspection +of the bank's affairs, and pronounced the institution "sound." +The run on the bank stopped, and timid depositors began to bring +back their money. The members of the Dodge family could once +more hold up their heads. + +In the meantime Dr. Bentley had called in a specialist. Together +the two medical men decided that Theodore Dodge had suffered only +from an extreme amount of overwork; that the strain had momentarily +unbalanced his mind, and had made the deranged man contemplate +drowning himself. + +By means of a modified form of the "third degree" Chief Coy, by +this time, had succeeded in making the two vagrants confess that +they had found Mr. Dodge, with his coat and hat off standing by +the bank of the stream. Guessing the banker's condition, and +learning his identity, the two men, though they did not confess +on this point, had evidently coaxed the banker away to their shanty +away off in the heart of the woods. Undoubtedly it had been their +plan to keep the banker under their own eyes, with a view of extorting +a reward from the missing man's family. The judge of the local +court finally decided to send both men away for six months on +a charge of vagrancy. + +And here the matter seemed to end. Though Lawyer Ripley urged +the prompt payment of the offered reward to Prescott and Darrin, +Mrs. Dodge, influenced by her son, demurred. At Mr. Pollock's +suggestion Dick and Dave promptly drew up and signed a paper releasing +the Dodge family from any claim. This paper was also signed by +the fathers of the two boys, and forwarded to Lawyer Ripley. +That gentleman man returned the paper to Dick, with a statement +that he might have something to communicate at a later date. + +Tuesday morning, with many secret misgivings, Coach Morton, who +was also one of the submasters of the High School, posted the +call for the football squad. The call was for three o'clock Thursday +afternoon, at the gym. + +"Humph!" was the audible and only comment of Bayliss, as he stood +before the school bulletin board at recess and read the announcement. + +"I guess the day for football here has gone by," observed Porter +sneeringly. + +"Of interest to ragamuffins only," sneered Paulson, as he turned +away to join Fremont of the senior class. + +"Listen to the wild enthusiasm over upholding the school's honor +in athletics," muttered Dave, scowling darkly. + +"We knew it was coming," declared Tom Reade. + +Abner Cantwell was still principal at Gridley High School, though +that violent-tempered and unpopular pedagogue had been engaged, +this year, only as "substitute" principal. There were rumors +that Dr. Thornton, the former and much-loved principal, would +soon be in sufficiently good health to return. So the Board of +Education had left the way clear for dropping Mr. Cantwell at +any moment that it might see fit. + +Dick & Co. had gathered by themselves on this Tuesday, at recess. +They did not discuss the football call, nor its reception by +the "soreheads," for they had known what was coming. Just before +recess was over, however, there were sudden sounds of a riot around +the bulletin board. + +"Tear that down!" + +"Throw 'em out!" + +"Raus mit!" + +"The mean cheats!" + +There was a surging rush of High School boys for the bulletin +board. + +Bayliss and Fremont, both of the senior class, who had just posted +a new notice, were now trying to push their way through an angry +crowd of youngsters that had collected. + +"They're no good!" + +"A disgrace to the school!" + +"Send 'em to Coventry!" + +"No! Handle 'em right now!" + +There was another rush. + +"Get back, you hoodlums!" yelled Bayliss, his face violet with +rage. + +"I'll crack the head of any fellow that lays hands on me!" stormed +Fremont. + +"Oh, will he? Come on, then, fellows!" + +Fremont was caught up as though by a cyclone. Two or three fellows +seized him at a time, passing him down the corridor. The last +to receive the hapless Fremont propelled him through the main +doorway of the school building. Nor was this done with any gentle +force, either. + +Bayliss, not attempting to fight, was simply hustled along on +his feet. + +Out of one of the rooms near by rushed Mr. Cantwell, the principal---or +"Prin." as he was known, his face white with the anger that he +felt over what he regarded as a most unseemly disturbance. + +"Stop this riot, young gentlemen!" commanded the principal sternly. + +"Send in the riot call, like you did last year!" piped up a disguised, +thin, falsetto voice from the outskirts of the rapidly growing +crowd. Quite a lot of the girls had gathered, too, by this time. + +The principal turned around, sharply, as some of the girls began +to giggle. But Mr. Cantwell was unable to detect the one who +had thus taunted him. + +Coach Morton peered over the railing of the floor above. + +"Mr. Morton!" called the principal. + +"Yes, sir." + +"Sound the assembling gong, if you please." + +Clang! clang! clang! + +The din of the gong cut their recess four minutes short, but not +one of the excited High School boys regretted it. They had had +a chance to express themselves, and now fell in, filing down to +the locker rooms, then up the stairs once more to the assembly +room. Bayliss and Fremont came in, joining the others. They +were white-faced, but strove to carry their heads very high. + +The sounding of the gong had stopped the circulating of the paper +that had been so angrily torn down from the bulletin board. It +was in Dick Prescott's hands now. + +The notice had announced the formation of a "select" party for +a straw ride for the young men and young women of the junior and +senior classes on Thursday afternoon, starting at two-thirty o'clock. +Invitations would be issued by the committee, after requests +for tickets had been passed upon by that committee. Bayliss, +Fremont and Paulson signed the notice of the straw ride. + +This was the means by which the "soreheads" chose to announce +that they would ignore the football squad call for Thursday. + +Wisely, for once, the principal did not choose to question the +young men regarding the excitement attending the close of recess. +Studies and recitations went on as usual. + +But feeling ran high. The "soreheads" and their sympathizers +were known, by this time, to all the other young men of the student +body. During the rest of the day's session many a "sorehead" +found himself being regarded with black or sneering looks. + +Of course the self-elected "exclusive" set was not numerously +represented in the High School. Most of the boys and girls did +not come from well-to-do families. Some who did had refused to +have anything to do with the "sorehead" crowd. + +The instant that school was dismissed that Tuesday afternoon scores +of the more boisterous boys rushed from the building, across the +yard, and double-lined the sidewalk leading from the gateway. + +"Ugh! ugh! ugh!" they groaned, whenever any of the "soreheads" +tried to walk this gauntlet in dignified silence. + +"Let's keep out of that, fellows," advised Dick, to his chums, +who grouped themselves about him. "Groans and catcalls won't +smooth or soothe any hard-feelings." + +"I don't blame any of the fellows for what they're doing to the +snobs," blazed Dan Dalzell indignantly. + +"I don't say that I do, either," Dick replied quietly. "But there +may be better ways of teaching fellows that they should stand +by their school at all times." + +"I'd like to know a better way, then," flared Tom Reade. + +"Let's have it, instanter, Dick, if you've got one," begged Greg +Holmes. + +"Yes; out with it, old chap," begged Harry Hazelton. + +But Dick Prescott smiled provokingly. + +"Perhaps, with the help of some of the rest of you," he replied, +"I shall be able to find a way of cooling some hot heads. I hope +so, anyway." + +"Dick has his plan all fixed, now," Dan whispered, hopefully, +to Tom. + +"If he has," quoth Reade, under his breath, I wish he'd tell us +his scheme." + +"Humph!" retorted Dan. "You know Dick Prescott, and you know +that he never shoots until he has taken time to aim." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +DICK FIRES BOTH BARRELS + + +"Oh---great Scott!" gasped Tom Reade, as he paused at an item in +"The Blade" the following morning. + +That item had been written by Prescott. There could be no doubt +about it in Reade's mind. + +"What's the matter?" asked Tom's father. + +"Oh, Dick has been paying his respects to a certain clique in +the High School, I take it," Tom replied, with a grin. "I heard, +yesterday, that he was going to shoot into that crowd. But---and +here's a short editorial on the same subject, too. Wow! Dick +has fired into the enemy with both barrels!" + +A moment later Tom passed the paper over to his father. Dick's +article read: + +_There is a possibility that Gridley High School will not be in +the front ranks in football this year. Those who know state that +a "sorehead" combination has been formed by the young male representatives +of some of our wealthier families. These young men, having elected +themselves, so it is said, the salt of the earth, or the cream +of a new Gridley aristocracy, are going to refuse to play in the +football eleven this year. + +Even young men who belong to "prominent" families may have some +gifts in the way of football ability. Three or four out of the +dozen or more "soreheads" are really needed if Gridley High School +is to maintain its standing this year. The remainder of the +"soreheads" may, with advantage to the High School eleven, be +excused from offering themselves. + +The "soreheads," it is stated, feel that it would be beneath the +dignity of their families for them to play on an eleven which +must, in any event, be recruited largely from the sons of the +Gridley families less fortunately situated financially. + +Strangely enough, though they don't intend to play football this +year, these "soreheads" have been training hard of late, one of +their practices being the taking of an early morning cross-country +run together. + +The average young man at the High School is as eager as ever to +uphold the town's and the school's honor and dignity on the football +gridiron this year. Whether the so-called "soreheads" will reconsider +their proposed course of action and throw themselves in with the +common lot for the upholding of the Gridley name and the honor +of the High School will have been determined within the next few +days. It is possible, however, that this little coterie of self-appointed +"exclusives" will continue to refuse to cast their lot with the +commoner run of High School boys, to whom some of the "soreheads" +have referred as "muckers." A Gridley "mucker," it may be stated +in passing, is a Gridley boy of poor parents who desires to obtain +a decent education and better himself in life._ + +"Is that article true?" demanded Tom Reade's father. + +"Yes, sir," Tom responded. "Dick wouldn't have written it, if +it hadn't been. But turn over to the editorial column, and see +that other little bit." + +The editorial in question referred to the news printed in another +column, and stated that this information, if correct, showed a +state of affairs at the High School that needed bettering. The +editor continued: + +_If there are in the High School any young snobs who display such +a mean and un-American spirit, then the thoughtful reader must +conclude that these young men are being unjustly educated at the +public expense, for such boys are certain to grow into men who +will turn nothing of value back into the community. Such young +men, if they really need to study, should be educated at the expense +of their families. Both the High School and the community can +easily dispense with the presence of snobs and snobbery._ + +"I guess there'll be some real soreness in some heads this morning," +laughed Tom's father. + +"Won't there!" ejaculated Tom, and hurried out into the street. +It did not take him long to find some of his chums and other +High School boys. Those who had not seen "The Blade" read the +two marked portions eagerly. + +Bert Dodge had "The Blade" placed before him by his sister. Bert +read with reddening cheeks. + +"That's what comes of letting a fellow like Dick Prescott write +for the papers," Bert stormed angrily. "That fellow ought to +be tarred and feathered!" + +"Why don't you suggest it to the 'soreheads'?" asked his sister, +quizzically. Grace Dodge was an amiable, democratic, capable +girl who had gone through college with honors, and yet had not +gained a false impression of the importance conferred by a little +wealth. + +"Grace, I believe you're laughing at me!" dared the young man +exasperatedly. + +"No; I'm not laughing. I'm sorry," sighed the young woman. "But +I can imagine that a good many are laughing, this morning, and +that the number will grow. Bert, dear, do you think any young +man can hope to be very highly esteemed when he sets his own importance +above the good name and success of his school?" + +Bert did not answer, but quit the house moodily. He encountered +some of "his own set," but they were not a very cheerful-looking +lot that morning. Not one of the "soreheads" could escape the +conviction that Dick Prescott held the whip hand of public opinion +over them. What none of them appreciated, was the moderation +with which young Prescott had wielded his weapon. + +Dodge, Bayliss, Paulson and Hudson entered the High School grounds +together, that morning, ten minutes before opening time. As the +quartette passed, several of the little groups of fellow students +ceased their talk and turned away from the four "soreheads." +Then, after the quartette had passed, quiet little laughs were +heard. + +All four mounted the steps of the building with heightening color. + +Before the door, talking together, stood Fred Ripley and Purcell, +whom the "soreheads" had endeavored to enlist. + +"Good morning, Purcell. Morning, Ripley," greeted Bayliss. + +Fred and Purcell wheeled about, turning their backs without answering. + +Once inside the building the four young fellows looked at each +other uneasily. + +"Are the fellows trying to send us to coventry?" demanded Dodge. + +"Oh, well," muttered Bayliss, "there are enough of us. We can +stand it!" + +Yet, at recess, the "soreheads" found themselves extremely uncomfortable. +None of their fellow-students, among the boys, would notice them. +Whenever some of the "soreheads" passed a knot of other boys, +low-toned laughs followed. Even many of the girls, it proved, +had taken up with the Coventry idea. + +"Fellows, come to my place after you've had your luncheons," Bayliss +whispered around among his cronies, after school was out for the +day. "I---I guess there are a---a few things that we want to +talk over among ourselves. So come over, and we'll use the carriage +house for a meeting place. Maybe we'll organize a club among +ourselves, or---or---do something that shall shut us out and away +from the common herd of this school." + +When the dozen or more met in the Bayliss carriage house that +afternoon there were some defiant looks, and some anxious ones. + +"I don't know how you fellows feel about this business," began +Hudson frankly. "But I've had a pretty hot grilling at home by +Dad. He asked me if I belonged to the 'sorehead' gang. I answered +as evasively as I could. Then dad brought his list down on the +table and told me he prayed that I wouldn't go through life with +any false notions about my personal dimensions. He told me, rather +explosively, that I would never be a bit bigger, in anyone's estimation +than I proved myself to be." + +"Hot, was he?" asked Bayliss, with a half sneer. + +"He started out that way," replied Hudson. "But pretty soon Dad +became dignified, and asked me where I had ever gotten the notion +that I amounted to any more than any other fellow of the same +brain caliber." + +"What did you tell him? asked Bert Dodge, frowning. + +"I couldn't tell him much," retorted Hudson, smiling wearily. +"Dad was primed to do most of the talking. When he stopped for +breath mother began." + +"It's all that confounded Dick Prescott's doings! It's a shame! +It's a piece of anarchy---that's what it is!" muttered Paulson. +"On my way here I passed three men on the street. They looked +at me pretty hard, and laughed after I had gone by. Fellows, +are we going to allow that mucker, Dick Prescott, to make us +by-words in this town?" + +"No siree, no!" roared Fremont. + +"Good! That's what I like to hear," put in Hudson dryly. "And +what are we going to do to stop Dick Prescott and turn public +opinion our ways" + +"Why-----" + +"We-----" + +"The way to-----" + +"We'll-----" + +Several spoke at once, then all came to a full stop. The "soreheads" +looked at each other in puzzled silence. + +"What are we going to do?" demanded Fremont. "How are we going +to hit back at a fellow who has a newspaper that he can use as +a club on your head?" + +"We might have a piece put in 'The Evening Mail,'" hinted Porter, +after a dazed silence. "That's the rival paper." + +"Yes!" chimed in Bayliss, eagerly. "We can write a piece and +get it put in 'The Mail.' Our piece can say that there has been +a tendency, this year, or was believed to be one, to get a rowdyish +element of the High School into the High School eleven, and that +our move was really a move intended to sustain the past reputation +of the Gridley High School for gentlemanly playing in all school +sports. That will hit Dick & Co., and a lot of others, and will +turn the laugh back on the muckers." + +This proposition brought forth several eager cries of approval. + +"I see just one flaw in the plan," observed Hudson slowly. + +"What is it?" demanded half a dozen at once. + +"Why, 'The Evening Mail' is a paper designed to appeal to the more +rowdyish element in Gridley politics. 'The Mail's' circulation is +about all among the class of people who come nearest to being +'rowdyish.' So I'm pretty certain, fellows, that 'The Mail' wouldn't +take up our cause, and hammer our enemies with the word 'rowdy.' 'The +Blade' is the paper that circulates among the best people in Gridley." + +"And Dick Prescott writes for 'The Blade'!" + +A gloomy silence followed, broken by Bayliss's disconsolate query: + +"Then, hang it! What can we do?" + +And that query stuck hard! + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +BAYLISS GETS SOME ADVICE + + +On that fateful Thursday morning every High School boy, and nearly +every High School girl saw "The Blade." + +The morning paper, however, contained no allusion whatever to +the football remarks of the day before. + +Instead, there was an article descriptive of the changes to be +made out at the High School athletic field this present year, +and there were points and "dope" (as the sporting parlance phrases +it) concerning the records and rumored new players of other High +School elevens that were anxious to meet Gridley on the gridiron +this coming season. + +Thursday's article was just the kind of a one that was calculated +to make every football enthusiast eager to see the season open +in full swing. + +Again the "soreheads" came to school, and once more they had to +pass the silent groups of their fellow students, who stood with +heads turned away. The reign of Coventry seemed complete. Never +before had any of the "soreheads" understood so thoroughly the +meaning of loneliness. + +At recess all the talk was of football. None of this talk, however, +was heard by the "soreheads." Whenever any of these went near +the other groups the talk ceased instantly. There was no comfort +in the yard, that morning, for a "sorehead." + +When school let out that afternoon, at one o'clock, Bayliss, Fremont, +Dodge and their kind scurried off fast. No one offered to stop +them. These "exclusive" young men could not get away from the +fact that exclusion was freely accorded them. + +Fred Ripley, as had been his wont in other years when he was a +freshman, walked homeward with Clara Deane. + +"Fred, you haven't got yourself mixed up at all with that 'sorehead' +crowd, have you?" Miss Deane asked. + +"Not much!" replied Fred, with emphasis. "I want to play football +this year." + +"Will all the 'soreheads' be kept out of the eleven, even if they +come to their senses?" Clara inquired. + +"Now, really, you'll have to ask me an easier one than that," +replied Fred Ripley laughingly. + +"I had an idea that all of the fellows whose families are rather +comfortably well off might be in the movement---or the strike or +whatever you call it," Clara replied. + +"Oh, no; there's a lot of us who haven't gone in with the kickers---and +glad we are of it," Fred replied. + +"Still, don't you believe in any importance attaching to the fact +that one comes of one of the rather good old families?" asked +Clara Deane thoughtfully. + +"Why, of course, it's something to be quietly proud of," Fred +slowly assented. Then added, with a quick laugh: + +"But the events of the last two days show that one should keep +his pride buttoned in behind his vest." + +As for the "soreheads" themselves, there weren't any more meetings. +As soon as they actually began to realize how much amused contempt +many of the Gridley, people felt for them, these young men began +to feel rather disgusted with themselves. + +Across the street, and not far from the gymnasium building, was +an apartment house in which two apartments were vacant. Being +well acquainted with the agent, Bayliss borrowed the key to one +of the apartments. Before half past two that afternoon, Bayliss +and Dodge were in hiding, where they could look out through a +movable shutter at the gymnasium building. + +"There go Prescott, Darrin and Reade," Bayliss soon reported. + +"Oh, of course; they'll answer the football call," sniffed Dodge. +"It was over fellows just like them that the whole trouble started." + +"And there's Dalzell, Hazelton and Hanshew. Griffith is just +behind them." + +"Yes; all muckers," nodded Dodge. + +"There's Coach Morton." + +"Of course; he has to attend," replied Dodge, coming toward the +shuttered window. "But I'll wager old Morton isn't feeling over-happy +this afternoon." + +"I don't know," grumbled Bayliss. "There he is at the gym. door, +shaking hands with Dick Prescott and Dave Darrin, and laughing +pretty heartily." + +"Laughing to keep his courage up, I reckon," clicked Bert Dodge +dryly. "Morton knows he's going to miss a lot of faces that he'd +like to see there this year." + +Then Dodge took up post at the peephole, while Bayliss stepped +back, yawning. + +Several more football aspirants neared and entered the gym. The +name of each was called off by Bert. + +"This is the first year," chuckled Bayliss, "when Gridley hasn't +had a chance for a star eleven." + +"I'll miss the game, myself, like fury," commented Dodge. "All +through last season, when I played on the second eleven, I was +looking forward to this year." + +"Now, don't you go to getting that streak, and quit us," warned +Bayliss quickly. "Our set is going to get up its own eleven; +don't forget that! And we're going to play some famous games." + +"Sure!" admitted Dodge. But there was a choke in his throat. + +Just a few moments later Bert Dodge gave a violent start, then +cried out, in a voice husky with emotion: + +"Oh, I say, Bayliss, look-----" + +"What-----" + +"_Hudson_!" + +"What about him?" + +"Quick!" + +"Well, you ninny," + +"Hudson is going in the-----" + +With a cry partly of doubting, partly of rage, Bayliss leaped +forward, crowding out Dodge in order to get a better view. + +Hudson was actually ascending the gym. steps, and going up as +though he meant business. + +"He's gone over to---to---them!" gasped Bert Dodge. + +"The mean _traitor_!" hissed Bayliss. + +Hudson did, indeed, brave it out by going straight on into the +gym. As he entered some of the fellows already there glared at +him dubiously. But Hudson met the look bravely. + +"Hullo!" cried Dick. "There's Hudson!" + +Coach Morton heard, from another part of the gym. Turning around, +the coach greeted tile reformed 'sorehead' with a nod and a smile. +Then some of the fellows spoke to Hudson as that young man moved +by them. In a few moments more, Hudson began to feel almost +at home among his own High School comrades. + +Then Drayne, another 'sorehead,' showed up. He, too, was treated +as though nothing had happened. When Trenholm, still another +of the "soreheads," looked in at the gym., he appeared very close +to being afraid. When he saw Hudson and Drayne there he hastened +forward. By and by Grayson came in. At the window across the +street Bayliss and Dodge had checked off all four of these "deserters" +and "traitors." + +"Well, they'll play, anyway---either on school or on second," +muttered Bert, to himself. "Oh, dear! Just think the way things +have turned out." + +These four deserters from the "soreheads" were all out of that +very select crowd who did respond to the football call. + +Promptly at three o'clock Coach Morton called for order. Then, +after a very few remarks, he called for the names of all who intended +to enter the football training squad for this season. + +"And let every fellow who thinks he's lazy, or who doesn't like +to train hard and obey promptly, keep his name off the list," +warned the coach dryly. "I've come to the conclusion that what +we need in this squad is Army discipline. We're going to have +it this year! Now, young gentlemen, come along with your +names---those of you who really believe you can stand Spartan +training." + +"I think I might draw the line at having the fox---or was it a +wolf---gnawing at my entrails, as one Spartan had to take it," +laughed one youngster. + +"Guess again, or you'd better stay off the squad this year," laughed +the coach. "This is going to be a genuinely rough season for +all weaklings." + +There was a quick making up of the roll. + +"Tomorrow afternoon, at three sharp, you'll all report on the +athletic field," announced Coach Morton, when he had finished +writing down the names. "Any man who fails to show up tomorrow +afternoon will have his name promptly expunged from the squad +rolls. No excuses will be accepted for failure tomorrow." + +There was a crispness about that which some of the fellows didn't +like. + +"Won't a doctor's certificate of illness go?" asked one fellow +laughingly. + +"It will go---not," retorted coach. "Pill-takers and fellows +liable to chills aren't wanted on this year's team, anyway. Now, +young gentlemen, I'm going to give you a brief talk on the general +art of taking care of yourselves, and the art of keeping yourselves +in condition." + +The talk that followed seemed to Dick Prescott very much like +a repetition of what Coach Luce had said to them the winter before, +at the commencement of indoor training for baseball. + +As he finished talking on health and condition Mr. Morton drew +from one of his pockets a bunch of folded papers. + +"I am now," he continued, "going to present to each one of you +a set of rules, principles, guides---call them what you will. +On this paper each one of you will find laid down rules that +should be burned into the memories of all young men who aspire +to play football. Do not lose your copies of these rules. Read +the rules over again and again. Memorize them! Above all, put +every rule into absolute practice." + +Then, at a sign, the young men passed before the coach to receive +their printed instructions. + +"Something new you've gotten up, Mr. Morton?" inquired one of +the fellows. + +"No," the coach admitted promptly. "These rules aren't original +with me. I ran across 'em, and I've had them printed, by authority +from the Athletics Committee. I wish I had thought up a set of +rules as good." + +As fast as they received their copies each member of the squad +darted away to read the rules through. This is what each man +found on the printed sheet: + +_"1. Work hard and be alive. + 2. Work hard and learn the rules. + 3. Work hard and learn the signals. + 4. Work hard and keep on the jump. + 5. Work hard and have a nose for the ball. + 6. Work hard all the time. Be on speaking terms with the ball +every minute. + 7. Work hard and control your temper and tongue. + 8. Work hard and don't quit when you're tackled. Hang onto the ball. + 9. Work hard and get your man before he gets started. Get him +before the going gets good. + 10. Work hard and keep your speed. If you're falling behind +your condition is to blame. + 11. Work hard and be on the job all the time, a little faster, a +little sandier, a little more rugged than the day before. + 12. Work hard and keep your eyes and ears open and your head up. + 13. Work hard and pull alone the man with the ball. This isn't a +game of solitaire. + 14. Work hard and be on time at practice every day. Train faithfully. +Get your lessons. Aim to do your part and to make yourself a +perfect part of the machine. Be a gentleman. If the combination +is too much for you, turn in your togs and call around during +croquet season."_ + +"What do you think of that, as expounding the law of football?" +smiled coach, looking down over Dave Darrin's shoulder. + +"It doesn't take long to read, Mr. Morton And it ought not to +take long to memorize these fourteen rules. But to live them, +through and through, and up and down---that's going to take a +lot of thought and attention." + +To the four ex-"soreheads" not a word had been said about the +late unpleasantness, nor was this quartette any longer in Coventry. + +Trenholm, Grayson, Drayne and Hudson were the four best football +men of the Bayliss-Dodge faction. Now that they were to play +with the High School eleven all concerned felt wholly relieved. + +As the young men were leaving the gym. that afternoon Coach Morton +found a chance to grip Dick's arm and to whisper lightly in his +ear: + +"Thank you, Prescott." + +"For what, Mr. Morton." + +"Why, for what you managed to do to hold the school eleven together. +That was clever newspaper work, Prescott. And it has helped +the school a lot. I'm no longer uneasy about Gridley High School +on the gridiron for this season. We'll have a team now!" + +With a confident nod the coach strolled away. + +As the gym. doors were thrown open the members of the new football +squad rushed out with joyous whoops. Some of the more mischievous +or spirited actually tackled unsuspicious comrades, toppling their +victims over to the ground. That line of tactics resulted in +many a "chase" that brought out some remarkably good sprinting +talent. Thus the squad dissipated itself like the mist, and soon +the grounds near the school were deserted. + +Bayliss and Bert Dodge went away to nurse a grievance that nothing +seemed to cure. + +For these two, now that their strong line of resistance had been +broken, found themselves secretly longing, as had the four deserters, +for a place in the football squad. + +Bert Dodge sulked along to school, alone that Friday morning. +Bayliss, however, after a night of wakefulness, had decided to +"eat crow." + +So, as Dick, Dave and Greg Holmes were strolling along schoolward, +Bayliss overhauled them. + +"Good morning, fellows," he called, briskly, with an offhand attempt +at geniality. + +All three of the chums looked up at him, then glanced away again. + +"Oh, I say, now, don't keep it up," coaxed Bayliss. "We High +School fellows all want to be decent enough friends. And how's +the football? I don't suppose the squad is full yet. I---I half +believe I may join and take a little practice." + +"Thinking of it?" asked Dick, looking up coolly. + +"Yes---really," replied Bayliss. + +"See the coach, then; he's running the squad." + +"Yes; I guess I will, thanks. Good morning!" + +Bayliss sauntered along, blithely whistling a tune. He knew Coach +Morton would give him the glad hand of welcome for the squad and +the team. + +"Oh, Mr. Morton," was Bayliss's greeting, as he encountered the +coach near the school building steps. + +"Yes?" asked the submaster pleasantly. + +"I---I---er---I didn't make the meeting yesterday afternoon, but +I guess you might put my name down for the squad." + +"Isn't this a bit late, Bayliss?" asked the submaster, eyeing +the youth keenly. + +"Perhaps, a bit," assented the confident young man. "However-----" + +"At its meeting, last night, Mr. Bayliss, the Athletics Committee +of the Alumni Association advised me to consider the squad list +closed." + +"Closed?" stammered Bayliss, turning several shades in succession. +"Closed? Do---do you mean-----" + +"No more additions will be made to the squad this year," replied +the coach quietly, then going inside. + +Bayliss stood on the steps, a picture of humiliation and amazement. + +"Fellows," gasped Bayliss, as Prescott and his two chums came +along, "did you hear that? Football list closed?" + +"Want some advice?" asked Dick, halting for an instant. + +"Yes," begged Bayliss. + +"Never kick a sore toe against a stone wall," quoth Dick Prescott, +and passed on into the school building. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +TWO GIRLS TURN THE LAUGH + + +By this time training was going on briskly. Four days out of +every week the squad had to practice for two hours at the athletic +field. + +There were tours of work in the gym., too. + +Besides, it was "early to bed and early to rise" for all members +of the squad. + +Even those who hoped only to "make second" were under strict orders +to let nothing interfere with their condition. + +Three mornings in the week Coach Morton met all squad men for +either cross-country work or special work in sprinting. And this +was before breakfast, when each man was on honor pledged to take +only a pint of hot water---nothing more---before reporting. +On the other mornings, football aspirants were pledged to run +without the coach. + +Yet, with all this, studies had to be kept up to a high average, +for no man on the "unset" list could hope to be permitted to play +football. + +Hard work? Yes. But discipline, above all. And discipline is +priceless to the young man who really hopes to get ahead in life! + +"You're not playing fair," Dave cried reproachfully to his chum +one day. + +"Why not?" Prescott questioned mildly. + +"You're using hair tonic!" Darrin asserted, with mock seriousness, +as he gazed at Dick's bushy mop of football hair. "You're growing +a regular chrysanthemum for a top piece to your head." + +"Oh, my hair, eh?" smiled Dick. "Why, you can have as fine a +lot of hair if you want to take the trouble." + +"Don't I want it, though?" retorted Darrin. "What kind of tonic +do you use?" + +"Grease," smiled Prescott. + +"Nothing but grease?" + +"Nothing much." + +"What kind of grease?" + +"Elbow!" + +"Now, stop your joshing," ordered Dave promptly. "No kind of +muscular work is going to bring out a fuzzy rug like that on anyone's +skypiece." + +"But that's just how I do it," Dick insisted. "Not a bit hard, +either. See here! Just use your finger tips, briskly, like this, +and stir your whole scalp up with a brisk massage." + +"How long do you keep it up?" demanded Dave, after following suit +for some time. + +"Oh, about ninety seconds, I guess," nodded Prescott. "You want +to do it eight times a day, and wash your head weekly, though +with bland soap and not too much of it." + +"Is that honestly all you do to get a Siberian fur wig such as +you're wearing?" + +"That's all I do," replied Dick. "Except---yes; there's one +thing more. Go out of doors all you can without a hat." + +"The active curry-comb and the vanished hat for mine, then," muttered +Dave, with another envious look at Dick's bushy hair. + +Nor did Dave rest until the other chums all had the secret. By +the time that the football season opened Dick & Co. were the envy +of the school for their heavy heads of hair. + +With all the hard work of training, Coach Morton did not intend +that the young men should be so busy as to have no time for recreation. +He understood thoroughly the value of the lighter, happier moments +in keeping an athlete's nervous system up to concert pitch. + +Though the baseball training of the preceding spring had been +"stiff" enough, Dick & Co. soon found that the football training +was altogether more rugged. + +In fact, Coach Morton, with the aid of Dr. Bentley as medical +director, weeded out a few of the young men after training had +been going on for a fortnight. Some failed to show sufficient +reserve "wind" after running. A few other defectives proved not +to have hearts strong enough for the grilling work of the gridiron. + +All the members of Dick & Co., however, managed to keep in the +squad. In fact, hints soon began to go around, mysteriously, +that Dick & Co. were having the benefit of some outside training. +Purcell came to young Prescott and asked him frankly about this +report. + +"Nothing in it," Dick replied promptly. "We're having just the +same training as the rest of the boys. But I'll tell you a secret." + +"Go on!" begged Purcell eagerly. + +"You know the training rules---early retiring and all?" + +"Yes; of course." + +"Well, we fellows are sticking to orders like leeches. Every +night, to the minute, we're in bed. We make a long night's sleep +of it. Then, besides, we don't slight a single particle of the +training work that we're told to do by ourselves. We've agreed +on that, and have promised each other. Now, do you suppose all +the fellows are sticking quite as closely to coach's orders?" + +"I---I---well, perhaps they're not," agreed Purcell. + +"Are you?" insisted Dick. + +"In the _main_, I do." + +"Oh," observed Prescott, with mild sarcasm. "'In the main'! +Now, see here, Purcell, we High School fellows are fortunate in +having one of the very best coaches that ever a High School squad +did have. Mr. Morton knows what he's doing. He knows how to +bring out condition, and how to teach the game. He lays down +the rules that furnish the sole means of success at football. +And you---one of our most valuable fellows---are following some +of his instructions---when they don't conflict with your comfort +or with your own ideas about training. Now, honestly, what do +you know about training that is better than Coach Morton's information +on that very important subjects" + +"Oh, come, now; you're a little bit too hard, Prescott," argued +Purcell. "I do about everything just as I'm told." + +"You admit Mr. Morton's ability, don't you?" + +"Yes, of course." + +"Then why don't you stick to every single rule that's laid down +by a man who knows what he is doing? It will be better for your +condition, won't it, Purcell?" + +"Yes, without a doubt." + +"And what is better for you is better for the team and for the +school, isn't its" + +"By Jove, Prescott, you're a stickler for duty, aren't you?" cried +Purcell. + +He spoke in a louder tone this time. Two girls who were passing +the street corner where the young men stood heard the query and +glanced over with interest. + +Neither young man perceived the girls at that moment. + +"Why, yes," Prescott answered slowly. "Duty is the main thing +there is about life, isn't it?" + +"Right again," laughed Purcell. + +One of the girls looked swiftly at the other. They were Laura +Bentley and Belle Meade, friends of Dick's and Dave's, and also +members of the junior class. + +"Well, I'm going to take a leaf out of your book," pursued Purcell. +"I'm really as anxious to see Gridley High School always on top +as you or any other fellow can be." + +"Of course you are," nodded Dick. "The way you put our baseball +team through last season proves that." + +"I'm going to be a martinet for training, hereafter," Purcell +declared earnestly. "I'm going to be a worse stickler than old +coach himself. And I'm going to exercise my right as a senior +to watch the other fellows and hold their noses to the training +grindstone." + +"Then I'm not worried about Gridley having a winning team this +year," Dick answered. + +"By Jove, you had a lot to do with that, too, didn't you, Prescott?" +cried Purcell. "You put it over the 'soreheads' so hard that +we never heard from them again after we got started." + +"You helped there, also, Purcell. If you and Ripley and a few +others had gone over to the 'soreheads' it would have stiffened +their backbone and nothing could have made it possible, this year, +for Gridley High School to have an eleven that would represent +all the best football that there is in the grand old school." + +In the first two years of their school life Dick and Dave had +spent many pleasant hours in the society of Laura and Belle. +So far, during the junior year, the chums had had but little +chance to see the girls, for the demands of football were fearfully +exacting. + +Laura, being almost at the threshold of seventeen years, had grown +tall and womanly. Bert Dodge began to notice what a very pretty +girl the doctor's daughter was becoming. So, one afternoon while +the football squad was practicing hard over on the athletic field, +Bert encountered Laura and Belle as they strolled down the Main +Street. + +Lifting his hat, Dodge greeted the girls, and stood chatting with +them for a few moments. To this neither of the girls could object, +for Bert's manners, with the other sex, were always irreproachable. + +But, presently, Laura saw her chance. She did not want to be +rude, but Bert's face had just taken on a half-sneering look at +a chance mention of Dick's name. + +"You aren't playing football this year, Bert?" Laura asked innocently. + +Bert quickly flushed. + +"No," he admitted. + +"Of course everyone can't make the eleven," Belle added, with +mild malice. + +"I---I don't believe I'd care to," Dodge went on. "I---you see---I +don't care about all the fellows in the squad." + +"I don't suppose every boy who is playing on the squad is a chum +of everyone else," remarked Laura. + +"Such fellows as Prescott, for instance, I don't care much about," +Bert continued, with a swift side glance at Laura Bentley to see +how she took that remark. But Laura showed not a sign in her +face. + +"No?" she asked quietly. "I think him a splendid fellow. By +the way, he and Dave Darrin haven't received the reward for finding +your father, have they?" + +Bert gasped. His face went white, then red. He fidgeted about +for an answer. + +"No," he replied, cuttingly, at last, "and I don't believe they +ever will." + +"Oh, I beg your pardon," cried Laura in quick contrition. "I +didn't know that it was a tender spot with you, or your family." + +"It isn't," Bert rejoined hurriedly. "It simply amounts to this, +that the reward will never be paid to a pair of cheeky, +brazen-faced-----" + +"Won't you please stop right there, Mr. Dodge?" Laura asked sweetly. +"Mr. Prescott and Mr. Darrin are friends of ours. We don't like +to hear remarks that cast disrespect in their direction." + +"Oh, I beg your pardon," answered Bert, trying not to be stiff. +But he was ill at ease, leaving the girls very soon after. + +Yet, in his hatred for Dick and Dave, young Dodge resolved upon +a daring stroke. He enlisted Bayliss, and the pair sought to +"cut out" Prescott and Darrin with Laura and Belle. + +Neither Dick nor Dave was in love. Both were too sensible for +that. Both knew that love affairs were for men old enough to +know their own minds. Yet the friendship between the four young +people had been a very proper and wholesome affair, and much pleasure +had been derived on all sides. + +Nowadays, however, Bert and Bayliss managed to be much out and +around Gridley while the football squad was at practice. Almost +daily this pair met Laura and Belle, as though by accident, and +the two young seniors usually managed, without apparent intrusion, +to walk along beside Laura and Belle, often seeing the pair to +the home gate of one or the other. + +"You two fellows want to look out," Purcell warned Dick and Dave, +good-naturedly, one day. "Other fellows are after your sweet-hearts." + +"I wonder how that happened," Dick observed good-humoredly. "I +didn't know we had any sweethearts." + +"What about-----" began Purcell, wondering if he had made a mistake. + +"Please don't drag any girls' names into bantering talk," interposed +Dave, quickly though very quietly. + +So Purcell said no more, and he had, indeed, meant no harm whatever. +But others were noticing, and also talking. High School young +people began to take a very lively interest in the new appearance +of Dodge and Bayliss as escorts of Laura and Belle. + +Then there came one especially golden day of early autumn, when +it seemed as though the warm, glorious day had driven everyone +out onto the streets. Dodge and Bayliss met Laura and Belle, +quite as though by accident, and manifested a rather evident +determination to remain in the company of the girls as long as +possible. + +Finally Laura halted before one of the department stores. + +"Belle, there's an errand you and I had in mind to do in there, +isn't there?" Laura asked. + +"May we have the very great pleasure, then, of your leave to wait +until you are through with your shopping?" spoke up Bert Dodge quickly. + +Laura flushed slightly. Just then more than a dozen of the football +squad, coming back from the field, marching solidly by twos, turned +the corner and came upon this quartette. There were many curious +looks in the corners of the eyes of members of the squad. + +Despite themselves Dick and Dave could feel themselves reddening. + +But Laura Bentley was equal to the emergency. "Here come the +school's heroes---the fellows who keep Gridley's High School banner +flying in the breeze," she laughed pleasantly. + +Both Dodge and Bayliss started to answer, then closed their lips. + +"Won't you please excuse us, boys?" begged Laura, in her usual +pleasant voice. "Here are Dick and Dave, and Belle and I wish +to speak with them." + +From some of the members of the football squad went up a promptly +stifled gasp that sounded like a very distant rumble. + +Dick and Dave, looking wholly rough and ready in their sweaters, +padded trousers and heavy field shoes, stepped out of the marching +formation as though obeying an order. + +The chums looked almost uncouth, compared with the immaculate, +dandyish pair, Dodge and Bayliss. The latter, with so many amused +glances turned their way, could only flush deeply, stammer, raise +their hats and---fade away! + +The lesson was a needed and a remembered one. Laura and Belle +took their afternoon walks in peace thereafter. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +DIES FOOTBALL TEACH REAL NERVE? + + +"Get in there, Ripley! Don't be afraid. It's only a leather +dummy. It can't hurt you! Now, tackle the dummy around the +hips---_hoist_!" + +A laugh went up among the crowd as Fred, crouching low, head down, +sailed in at that tackling dummy. + +Young Ripley's face was red, but he took the coach's stern tone +in good part, for the young man was determined to make good on +the eleven this year. + +"Now, Prescott! Show us that you can beat your last performance! +Imagine the dummy to be a two hundred and twenty pound center!" + +Dick rushed in valiantly, catching the dummy just right. + +"Let go!" called the coach, laughingly. "It isn't a sack of gold!" + +Another laugh went up. This was one of the semi-public afternoons, +when any known well-wisher of Gridley was allowed on the athletic +field to watch the squad at work. + +For half an hour the young men had been working hard, mostly at +the swinging dummy, for Coach Morton wanted much improvement yet +in tackling. + +"Now," continued the coach, in a voice that didn't sound very +loud, yet which had the quality of carrying to every part of the +big field, "it'll be just as well if you fellows don't get the +idea that only swinging leather dummies are to be tackled. The +provisional first and second teams will now line up. Second has +the ball on its own twenty-yard line, and is trying to save its +goal. You fellows on second hustle with all your might to get +the ball through the ranks of the first, or School eleven. Fight +for all you're worth to get that ball on the go and keep it going! +You fellows of the first, or School eleven, I want to see what +you can do with real tackling." + +There was a hasty adjusting of nose-guards by those who wore that +protection. The ball was placed, the quarter-back of the second +eleven bending low to catch it, at the same time comprehending +the signal that sounded briskly. + +The whistle blew; the ball was snapped, and quarter-back darted +to the right, passing the ball. Second's right tackle had been +chosen to receive and break through the School's line. On School's +left, Dick and Ripley raced in together, while second's interference +crashed into the pair of former enemies as right tackle tried to go +through. But Fred Ripley was as much out for team work this day as +any fellow on the field. He made a fast sprint, as though to tackle, +yet meaning to do nothing of the sort. Dick, too, understood. He +let Ripley get two or three feet in the lead. At Ripley, therefore, +the second's interference hurled itself savagely. It was all +done so quickly that the beguiled second had no time to rectify +its blunder; for Fred Ripley was in the center of the squirming, +interfering bunch and Dick Prescott had made a fair, firm, abrupt +tackle. In an instant the ball was "down." Second had gained +less than a yard. + +"Good work!" the coach shouted, after sounding the whistle." +Ripley and Prescott, that was the right sort of team work." + +Again second essayed to get away with the ball. This time the +forward pass was employed---that is to say, attempted. Hudson +and Purcell, by another clever feint, got the ball stopped and +down; third time, and second lost the ball on downs. + +Now School had the ball. As the quarter-back's signals rang out +there was perceptible activity and alertness at School's right +end. As the ball was snapped, School's right wing went through +the needful movements, but Dick Prescott, over at left end, had +the ball. Ripley and Purcell were supporting him. + +Straight into the opposing ranks went Ripley and Purcell, the +rest of the school team supporting. It was team work again. +Dick was halted, for an instant. Then, backed by his supporters, +he dashed through the opposition---on and on! Twice Dick was +on the point of being tackled, but each time his interference +carried him through. He was over second's line---touch-down, +and the whistle sounded shrilly, just a second ahead of cheers +from some hundred on-lookers. + +As Dick came back he limped just a bit. + +"I tell you, it takes nerve, and a lot of it, to play that game," +remarked one citizen admiringly. + +"Nerve? pooh!" retorted his companion. "Just a hoodlum footrace, +with some bumping, and then the whistle blows while a lot of boys + are rolling over one another. The whistle always blows just +at the point when there might be some use for nerve." + +The first speaker looked at his doubtful companion quizzically. + +"Would it take any nerve for you," he demanded, "to jump in where +you knew there was a good chance of your being killed," + +"Yes; I suppose so," admitted the kicker. + +"Well, every season a score or two of football ball players are +killed, or crippled for life." + +"But they're not looking for it," objected the kicker, "or they +wouldn't go in so swift and hard. Real nerve? I'd believe in +that more if I ever heard of one of these nimble-jack racers taking +a big chance with his life off the field, and where there was +no crowd of wild galoots to look on and cheer!" + +"Of course killing and maiming are not the real objects of the +game," pursued the first speaker. "Coaches and other good friends +of the game are always hoping to discover some forms of rules +that will make football safer. Yet I can't help feeling that +the present game, despite the occasional loss of life or injury +to limb, puts enough of strong, fighting manhood into the players +to make the game worth all it costs." + +"I want to see the nerve, and I want to see the game prove its +worth," insisted the kicker. + +Second eleven, though made up of bright, husky boys, was having +a hard time of it. Thrice coach arbitrarily advanced the ball +for second, in order to give that team a better chance with High +School eleven. + +And now the practice was over for the afternoon. The whistle +between coach's lips sounded three prolonged blasts, and the young +players, flushed, perspiring---aching a bit, too---came off the +field. Togs were laid aside and some time was spent under the +shower baths and in toweling. Only a small part of the late crowd +of watchers remained at the athletic field. But the kicker and +his companion were among those who stayed. + +Coach Morton stood for a time talking with some citizens who had +lingered. As most of these men were contributors to the athletic +funds they were anxious for information. + +"Do you consider the prospects good for the team this year?" asked +one man. + +"Yes," replied Mr. Morton promptly. + +"Is the School eleven decided upon in detail?" questioned another. + +"No; of course not, as yet. Each day some of the young men develop +new points---of excellence, or otherwise. The division into School +and second teams, that you saw this afternoon, may not be the +final division. In fact, not more than five or six of the young +men have been definitely picked as sure to make the School team. +We shall have it all decided within a few days." + +"But you're rather certain," insisted another, "that Gridley is +going to have as fine a School team as it has ever had?" + +"It would be going too far to say that," replied Coach Morton +slowly. "The truth is, we never know anything for certain until +we have seen our boys play through the first game. Our judgment +is even more reliable after they've been through the second game." + +By this time, some of the football squad were coming out of locker +rooms, heading across the field to the gate. Coach Morton and +the little group of citizens turned and went along slowly after +them. The kicker was still on hand. + +Just as the boys neared the gate there were heard sounds of great +commotion on the other side of the high board fence. There were +several excited yells, the sound of running feet, and then more +distinct cries. + +"He's bent on killing the officer! Run!" + +"Look out! Here he comes! Scoot!" + +"He's crazy!" + +Then came several more yells, a note of terror in them all. + +Five youngsters of the football squad were so near the gate that +they broke into a run for the open. Coach Morton, too, sped ahead +at full steam, though he was some distance behind the members +of the squad. The citizens followed, running and puffing. + +Once outside, they all came upon a curious sight. One of the +smallest members of Gridley's police force had attempted to stop +a big, red-faced, broad-shouldered man who, coatless and hatless +had come running down the street. + +Two men had gotten in the way of this fellow and had been knocked +over. Then the little policeman had darted in, bent on distinguishing +himself. But the red-faced man, crazed by drink, had bowled over +the policeman and had fallen on top of him. The victor had begun +to beat the police officer when the sight of a rapidly-growing +crowd angered the fellow. + +Leaping up, the red-faced one had glared about him, wondering +whom next to attack, while the officer lay on his back, more than +half-dazed. + +Making up his mind to catch and thrash some one, the red-faced +man came along, shouting savagely. It was just at this moment +that Dick Prescott and Greg Holmes, sprinting fast, came out through +the gateway. + +"Look out, boys! He'll kill you!" shouted one well-meaning citizen +in the background. + +"Will he?" grunted Dick grimly. "Greg, I'll tackle the fellow---you +be ready to fall on him. Head down, now---charge!" + +As though they had darted around the right end of the football +battle line, and had sighted the enemy's goal line, Prescott and +Holmes charged straight for the infuriated fellow. + +"Get outer my way!" roared red-face, turning slightly and running +furiously at them. + +Dick's head was down, but that did not prevent his seeing through +his long hair. + +"Get out of my way, you kid!" gasped the big fellow, halting in +his amazement as he saw this youngster coming straight at him. + +Greg was off the sidewalk, running a few feet out from the gutter + +But Dick sailed straight in. As he came close, red-faced seemed +to feel uneasy about this reckless boy, for the big fellow, holding +his fists so that he could use them, swerved slightly to one side. + +Fifty people were looking on, now, most of them amazed and fearing +for young Prescott. + +But Dick, running still lower, charged straight for his man. +The big fellow, with a bellow, aimed his fists. + +Dick wasn't hit, however. Instead, he grappled with the fellow, +just below the thighs, then straightened up somewhat---all quick +as a flash. + +That big mountain of flesh swayed, then toppled. Red-face went +down, not with a crash, but more after the manner of a collapse. + +As he fell, Greg darted in from the street and fell upon the big +fellow's chest. In another instant young Prescott was a-top of +the fellow. + +"Keep him down, boys!" yelled Coach Morton. + +Just before the coach sprinted to the spot Dave Darrin, then Tom +Reade, and then Tom Purcell, hurled themselves into the fray. + +When the coach arrived he could not find a spot on red-face at +which to take hold. + +The policeman, limping a bit, came up as fast as he could. + +"Will you young gentlemen help me to put these handcuffs on?" +asked the officer, dangling a pair of steel bracelets. + +"Will we?" ejaculated Dave. "Whoop!" + +"Roll the fellow over!" called Dick Prescott. + +With a gleeful shout the squad members rolled red-face over, +dragging his powerful arms behind his back. There was a scuffle, +but Coach Morton helped. A minute more and the handcuffs had been +snapped in place. + +In the eyes of the recent kicker, back on the field, there now +appeared a gleam of something very much akin to enthusiasm. + +"What do you say, now?" asked that man's companion. "Though, +of course, Prescott and Holmes knew that help wasn't far off." + +"It doesn't make any difference," retorted the recent kicker. +"Either boy might have been killed by that big brute before the +help could have arrived." + +"Then does football teach nerve?" + +"It certainly must!" agreed the recent kicker. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +DICK, LILE CAESAR, REFUSES THE CROWN + + +A few days later the members of the school team, and the substitutes, +had been announced. Then the men who had made the team came together +at the gymnasium. + +Who was to be captain of the eleven? + +For once there seemed to be a good deal of hanging back. + +If there were any members of the team who believed themselves +supremely fitted to lead, at least they were not egotistical enough +to announce themselves. + +There was a good deal of whispering during the five minutes before +Mr. Morton called them to order. Some of the whisperers left +one group to go over to another. + +"Now, then, gentlemen!" called Coach Morton. "Order, please!" + +Almost at once the murmuring stopped. + +"Before we can go much further," continued the coach, "it will +be necessary to decide upon a captain. I don't wish to have the +whole voice in the matter. If you are to follow your captain +through thick and thin, in a dozen or more pitched football battles, +it is well that you should have a leader who will possess the +confidence of all. Now, whom do you propose for the post of captain? +Let us discuss the merits of those that may be proposed." + +Just for an instant the murmuring broke out afresh. + +Then a shout went up: + +"Purcell!" + +But that young man shook his head. + +"Prescott!" shouted another. + +Dick, too, shook his head. + +"Purcell! Purcell!" + +"Now, listen to me a moment, fellows!" called Purcell, standing +very straight and waving his arms for silence. "I don't want +to be captain. I had the honor of leading the baseball nine last +season." + +"No matter! You'll make a good football captain!" + +"Not the best you can get, by any means," insisted Purcell. "I +decline the honor for that reason, and also because I don't want +the responsibility of leading the eleven." + +"Prescott!" shouted three or four of the squad at once. + +Purcell nodded his head encouragingly. + +"Yes; Prescott, by all means! You can't do better." + +"Yes, you can! And you fellows know it!" shouted Dick. + +His face glowed with pleasure and pride, but he tried to show, +by face, voice and gesture, that he didn't propose to take the +tendered honor. + +"Prescott! Prescott!" came the insistent yell. + +Above the clamor Coach Morton signaled Dick to come forward to the +platform. + +"Won't you take it, Prescott?" inquired the coach. + +"I've no right to, sir." + +"Then tell the team why you think so." + +As soon as coach had secured silence Dick, with a short laugh, +began: + +"Fellows, I don't know whether you mean it all, or whether you're +having a little fun with me. But-----" + +"No, no! We mean it! Prescott for captain! No other fellow +has done as much for Gridley High School football!" + +"Then I'll tell you some reasons, fellows, why I don't fit the +position," Dick went on, speaking easily now as his self-confidence +came to him. "In the first place, I'm a junior, and this is my +first year at football. Now, a captain should be a whole wagon-load +in the way of judgment. That means a fellow who has played in +a previous season. For that reason, all other things being equal, +the captain should be one of the seniors who played the gridiron +game last year." + +"You'll do for us, Prescott!" came the insistent call. + +"For another thing," Dick went on composedly, "the captain should +be a man who plays center, or close to it. Now, I'm not heavy +enough for anything of that sort. In fact, I understand I'm cast +for left tackle or left end---probably the latter. So, you see, +I wouldn't be in the right part of the field. I don't deny that +I'd like to be captain, but I'd a thousand times rather see Gridley +win." + +"Then who can lead us to victory" demanded Dave Darrin briskly. + +Dick promptly. "He's believed to be our best man for center. +He played last year; he knows more fine points of the game than +any of us juniors can. And he has the judgment. Besides, he's +a senior, and it's his last chance to command the High School +eleven." + +"If Wadleigh'll take it, I'm for him," spoke Dave Darrin promptly. + +Henry Wadleigh, or "Hem," as he was usually called, was turning +all the colors of the rainbow. Yet he looked pleased and anxious. + +There was just one thing against Wadleigh, in the minds of Hudson +and some of the others. He was a boy of poor family. He belonged +to what the late but routed "soreheads" termed "the mockers." +But he was an earnest, honest fellow, a hard player and loyal +to the death to his school. + +"Any other candidates?" asked Coach Morton. + +There was a pause of indecision. There were a few other fellows +who wanted to captain the team. Why didn't some of their friends +put them in nomination? + +Dick & Co. formed a substantial element in the team. They were +for "Hen" Wadleigh, and now Tom Reade spoke: + +"I move that Wadleigh be considered our choice for captain." + +"Second the motion," uttered Dan Dalzell, hastily. + +Coach Morton put the proposition, which was carried. Wadleigh +was chosen captain, subject to the approval of the Athletics Committee +of the alumni, which would talk it over in secret with Coach Morton. + +And now the team was quickly made up. Wadleigh was to play center. +Dick was to play left end, with Dave for left tackle. Greg Holmes +went over to right tackle, with Hazelton right guard. Dan Dalzell +was slated as substitute right end, while Tom Reade was a "sub" +left tackle. + +Fred Ripley was put down as a substitute for left end. As one +who kept in such close training as did Prescott he was not likely +to miss many of the big games, and Fred's chances for playing +in the big games was not heavy. Yet Ripley was satisfied. Even +as a "sub," he had "made" the High School eleven. + +"I think, gentlemen," declared Mr. Morton, in dismissing the squad, +"that we have as good a team to put forward this year as Gridley +has ever had. The only disquieting feature of the season is +the report, coming to us, that many of the rival schools have, +this year, better teams in the field than they have ever had before. +So we've got to work---well like so many animated furies. Remember, +gentlemen, 'coldfeet' never won a football season." + +Bayliss and Dodge when they heard the news, were much disgusted. +They had hoped that subs. Instead, Dick and three of his cronies +had been put in Gridley's first fighting line, only two of the +redoubtable six being on the sub list. + +School and second teams, being now sharply defined, fell to playing +against each other as hard and as cleverly as they could. + +Wadleigh's choice as captain was confirmed by the Athletics Committee. + +"But I'd never have had the chance, Prescott, old fellow, if it +hadn't been for you," "Hen" protested gratefully. "Dick, I won't +forget your great help!" + +"I didn't do anything for you, Hen," Prescott retorted, with one +of his dry smiles. + +"You didn't?" gasped Wadleigh. + +"No, sir! I did it for the school. I wanted to see our team +have the best possible captain and the winning eleven!" + +Bert and Bayliss happened to be passing the gymnasium when they +heard of the selection of Wadleigh. + +"Bert," whispered Bayliss, "I believe you're at least half a man!" + +"What are you driving at?" demanded Dodge. + +"We owe Dick Prescott a few. If you're with me we'll see if +his season on the gridiron can't be made a farce and a fizzle." + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +BERT DODGE "STARTS SOMETHING" + + +As always happens the schedule of the fall's games was changed +somewhat at the last moment. + +In the first change there was a decided advantage. Wrexham withdrawing +its challenge almost at the last, Coach Morton took on Welton +High School for the first game of the season. + +Now, Welton must have played for no other reason than to gratify +a weak form of vanity, for there were few High School teams in +the state that had cause to dread Welton High School. + +For Gridley, however, the game served a useful purpose. It solidified +Captain Wadleigh's team into actual work. The score was 32 to +0, in favor of Gridley. However, as Dick phrased it, the practice +against an actual adversary, for the first time in the season, +was worth at least three hundred to nothing. + +"But don't you fellows make a mistake," cautioned Captain Wadleigh. +"Don't get a notion that you've nothing bigger than Welton to +tackle this year. Next Saturday you've got to go up against +Tottenville, and there's an eleven that will make you perspire." + +Coach Morton had Tottenville gauged at its right value. During +the few days before the game he kept the Gridley boys steadily +at work. The passing and the signal work, in particular, were +reviewed most thoroughly. + +"Remember, the pass is going to count for a lot," Mr. Morton warned +them. "You can't make a weight fight against Tottenville, for +those fellows weigh a hundred and fifty pounds more, to the team, +than you do. They're savage, swift, clever players, too, those +Tottenville youths. What you take away from them you'll have +to win by strategy." + +So the Gridley boys were drilled again and again in all the special +points of field strategy that Coach Morton knew or could invent. + +Yet one of the best things that Mr. Morton knew, and one that +always characterized Gridley, was the matter of confidence. + +Captain Wadleigh's young men were made to feel that they were +going to win. They did not underestimate the enemy, but they +were going to win. That was well understood by them all. + +Now, in the games of sheer strategy much depends upon nimble ends. + +Dick Prescott, in particular, was coached much in private, as +well as on the actual gridiron. + +"Keep yourself in keen good shape, Mr. Prescott," Mr. Morton insisted. +"We need your help in scalping Tottenville next Saturday." + +As the week wore along Mr. Morton and Captain Wadleigh became +more and more pleased with themselves and with their associates. + +"I don't see how we can fail tomorrow," said Mr. Horton, quietly, +to "Hen" Wadleigh, just after the School and the second teams +had been dismissed. + +It was not much after half-past three. Practice had been brief, +in order that none of the players might be used up. + +"Prescott, in especial, is showing up magnificently," replied +Wadleigh. "He and Darrin are certainly wonders at their end of +the line." + +"You must use them all you can tomorrow, and yet don't make them +fight the whole battle," replied Coach Morton. "Save them for +the biggest emergencies." + +"I'll be careful," promised Wadleigh. + +Dick and Dave walked back into the city, instead of taking a car. + +"How are you feeling, Dick?" asked Dave. + +"As smooth as silk," Prescott replied. + +"I don't believe I've ever been in such fine condition before," +replied Dave. + +"That's mighty good, for I have an idea that the captain means +to use us all he can tomorrow." + +"Oh, Tottenville is as good as beaten, then," laughed Dave, with +all the Gridley confidence. + +"I'd like to know just how strong Tottenville is on its right end of +the line," mused Prescott. + +"I don't care how strong they are," retorted Darrin, with a laugh. +"You and I are not going to use strength; we're going to rely upon +brains---Coach Morton's brains, though, to be sure." + +The two chums separated at the corner of the side street on which +stood the Prescott bookstore and home. Dave hurried home to attend +to some duties that he knew were awaiting him. + +Dick, whistling, strolled briskly on. He saw Dodge and Bayliss +on the other side of the street, but did not pay much attention +to them until they crossed just before Dick had reached his own +door. + +"There's the mucker," muttered Bayliss, in a tone intentionally +loud enough for the young left end to overhear. + +"I won't pay any attention to them," thought Dick, with an amused +smile. "I can easily understand what they're sore about. I'd +feel angry myself if I had been left off the team." + +"Why do fellows like that need an education?" demanded Dodge, +in a slightly louder tone, as the pair came closer. + +Still Dick Prescott paid no heed. He started up the steps, fumbling +for his latch key as he went. + +"You faker! You mucker!" hissed Bayliss, now speaking directly +to the young left end. + +This was so palpable that Dick could not well ignore it. Dropping +the key back into his pocket, he turned to stare at the two +"sorehead" chums. + +"Eh?" he asked, with a quiet laugh. + +"Yes; I meant you!" hissed Bayliss. + +"Oh, well," grinned Dick, "your opinions have never counted for +much in the community, have they?" + +"Shut up, you ignorant hound!" warned Bayliss belligerently. + +"Too bad," retorted Dick tantalizingly. "Of course, I understand +what ails you. You were left off the High School team, and I +was not. But that is your own fault, Bayliss. You could have +made the team if you hadn't been foolish." + +"Don't insult me with your opinions fellow!" cried Bayliss, growing +angrier every instant. At least, he appeared to be working him +self up into a rage. + +"Oh, I don't care anything about your opinions, and I have no +anxiety to spring mine on you," retorted Dick, in an indifferent +voice. Once more he fumbled for his latch key. + +"You haven't any business talking with gentlemen, anyway," sneered +Bert Dodge. + +Dick flushed slightly, though he replied, coolly: + +"As it happens, just at present I am not!" + +"What do you mean by that?" flared Bert. + +"Oh, you know, you don't care anything about my opinions," laughed +Dick. "Let us drop the whole subject. I don't care particularly, +anyway, about being seen talking with you two." + +"Oh, you don't?" cried Bayliss, in a voice hoarse with rage. + +In almost the same breath Bert Dodge hurled an insult so pointed +and so offensive that Dick's ruddy cheek went white for an instant. + +Back into his pocket he dropped the latch key, then stepped swiftly +down before his tormentor. + +"Dodge," he cried warningly, "take back the remark you just made. +Then, after that, you can take your offensive presence out of my +sight!" + +"I'll take nothing back!" sneered the other boy. + +"Then you'll take this!" retorted Dick, very quietly, in a cold, +low voice. + +Prescott's fist flew out. It was not a hard blow, but it landed +on the tip of Bert Dodge's nose. + +"You cur!" cried Dodge chokingly. "Wait until I get my coat off." + +"No; keep it on; I'm going to keep mine on," retorted Prescott. +"Guard yourself, man!" + +"Jump in, Bayliss! We'll thump his head off!" gasped Dodge, with +almost a sob in his voice, to was so angry. + +Bayliss would have been nothing loath to "jump in." But, just +as Dick Prescott, after calling "guard," aimed his second blow +at Bert, Fred Ripley, Purcell and "Hen" Wadleigh all hurried up +to the scene. + +For Bayliss to be caught fighting two-to-one would have resulted +in a quick thrashing for him. So Bayliss stood back. + +"Bad blood, is there?" asked Wadleigh, as the new arrivals hurried +up. + +"Prescott, after insulting Bert, flew at him," retorted Bayliss, +panting some with the effort at lying. + +Dodge was now standing well back. He had parried three of Dick's +blows, but had not yet taken the offensive. As Dodge was a heavier +man, and not badly schooled in fistics, Dick had the good sense +to go at this fight coolly, taking time to exercise his judgment. + +"What's it all about?" demanded Wadleigh. + +Just for an instant Bayliss felt himself stumped. Then, all of a +sudden, an inspiration in lying came to him. + +"Prescott got ugly because the Dodges never paid that thousand-dollar +reward," declared Bayliss. + +Dick heard, and with his eye still on Dodge, shouted out: "That's +not true, Bayliss. You know you are not telling the truth!" + +Bayliss doubled his fists, and would have struck Prescott down +from behind, but Wadleigh, who was a big and powerful fellow, +caught Bayliss by his left arm, jerking him back. + +"Now, just wait a bit, Bayliss," advised "Hen," moderately. "From +what I know of Prescott I'm not afraid but that he'll give you +satisfaction presently---if you want it." + +"You bet he'll have to!" hissed Bayliss. + +"If Prescott loses the argument he has on now," added Purcell, +significantly, "I fancy he has friends who will take his place +with you, Bayliss." + +Then all turned to watch the fight, which was now passing the +stage of preliminary caution. + +Several boys and men had run down from Main Street. Now, more +than a score of spectators were crowding about. + +"Hurrah!" piped up one boy from the Central Grammar School." +The mucker bantam against the 'sorehead' lightweight!" + +There was a laugh, but Bert Dodge didn't join in it, for, after +receiving two glancing, blows on the chest, he now had his right +eye closed by Dick's hard left. + +The next instant the bewildered Dodge received a blow that sent +him down to the sidewalk. + +"I think I've paid you back, now," Prescott remarked quietly. + +At this moment Mr. Prescott, hearing the noise from the back of +his bookstore, came to the door. + +"What is the trouble, Richard?" inquired his parent. + +Dick stepped over to his father, repeating, in a low voice, the +insult that Dodge had hurled at him. + +"You couldn't have done anything else, then!" declared the elder +Prescott, fervently; and this was a good deal for Dick's father, +quiet, scholarly and peace-loving, to say. + +Bert and Bayliss walked sullenly away amid the jeers of the onlookers. +Once out of their sight, Bert, fairly grinding his teeth, said: + +"Bayliss, I'll have my revenge yet on that mucker Prescott---" +and then, as if struck by a sudden thought, he added savagely: + +"The Tottenville game's tomorrow---you know?" + +"Yes?" said Bayliss inquiringly. + +"Well, wait till tomorrow afternoon, and I'll take the conceit +out of the miserable cur---just you wait." + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE "STRATEGY" OF A SCHOOL TRAITOR + + +"Rah! rah! _Gri-i-idley_!" + +Again and again the whole of the rousing, inspiring High School +yell smote the air. + +It was but a little after noon on Saturday. + +It seemed as though two thirds of the school, including most of +the girls, had come down to the railway station to see the High +School eleven off on its way to Tottenville. That city was some +thirty miles away from Gridley, but there was a noon express train +that went through in forty minutes. + +Coach Morton and Captain Wadleigh had rounded up the whole of +the school team. All of the subs were there. The coach and members +of the team were at no expense in the matter, since their expenses +were to be paid out of the gate receipts of the home eleven. + +To many of the boys and girls of Gridley High School, however, +the affair bore a different look. The round trip by rail would +cost each of these more than a dollar, with another fifty cents +to pay for a seat on the grand stand at Tottenville. + +Hence, despite the fine representation of High School young folks +at the railway station, not all of them were so fortunate as to +look forward to going to the game. + +In addition to those of the young people who could go, there were +more than three hundred grown-ups who had bought tickets. The +railroad company, having been notified by the local agent, had +added a second section to the noon express. + +And now they waited, enthusiasm finding vent in volleys of cheers +and the school war-whoop. + +Dick Prescott and his chums stood at one end of the platform. Nor +were they alone. Many admirers had gathered about them. Laura +Bentley and Belle Meade, who were going with the rest to Tottenville, +were chatting with Dick and Dave. Each of the girls carried the +Gridley High School colors to wave during the expected triumphs of +the afternoon. + +"I'm glad you're playing today," Laura almost whispered to young +Prescott. + +"Why?" smiled Dick + +"Why, I believe you're one of those fortunate people who always +carry their mascot with them," rejoined Miss Bentley earnestly. +"With you there, Dick, I feel absolutely certain that even Tottenville +must go down in the dust. Gridley will bring back the score---and +not a tied score, either." + +"I certainly hope I am as big a mascot, or possess as big a mascot +as you seem to believe," laughed young Prescott. + +"You and Dave are each other's mascots," declared Belle Meade, +with a laugh. "I remember that last year when you were both on +the baseball nine Gridley never lost a game in which you and Dave +both played." + +"Nor did the nine lose any other game," returned Dick, "though +there were some games when Dave and I weren't on the batting list. +The nine didn't lose a game last season, Miss Belle, and had +only one tied score." + +"Anyway," declared Laura, with great conviction, "it all comes +back to this---that Gridley can't lose today because both Prescott +and Darrin are to play." + +"And I believe, young ladies, that you're both much nearer to +the truth than you have any idea of. In today's game a great +deal does depend on Prescott and Darrin." + +It was Captain "Hen" Wadleigh, who, passing to the rear of the +group, had overheard Laura's remark, and had made this addition +to her prophecies. + +"Here comes the train!" yelled one youth, who was fortunate enough +to have a ticket for the day. + +Soon after the sound of the whistle had been heard the express +rolled in. But this was the first section of the regular train. +By some effort the football crowd was kept off the train. Soon +after the second section of the train was sighted as it rolled +toward the station. + +"Team assemble!" roared Captain Wadleigh. + +There was a rush of husky, mop-headed youths in his direction. + +Just then a hand rested on Dick's arm. + +"Let me speak with you, just a moment Prescott." + +As Dick turned he found himself looking into the face of Hemingway, +plan clothes man to Chief Coy of the Police department. + +"I'm awful sorry, lad, but-----" began Hemingway slowly, in a +tone of the most genuine regret. + +Dick's face blanched. He scented bad news instantly, though he +could not imagine what it was. + +"Anyone sick---any accident at home?" asked the young left end. + +"Team aboard, first day coach behind the smoker!" roared Captain +Wadleigh, and the fellows made a rush. + +"The truth is," confessed Hemingway, "I've a war-----" + +Dick saw light in an instant. + +"Oh, that wretched Dodge? He has-----" + +"Sworn out a warrant for your arrest," nodded Hemingway. + +Laura and Belle did not hear or see this. They were hurrying +rearward along the train. + +Few of the football fellows saw the trouble, for they were busy +boarding the car named by Captain Wadleigh. + +Dave Darrin was the only one to pay urgent heed. + +"See here, Hemingway," began Dave, "Dick will come back---you +know that. He's desperately needed today. Won't it do just as +well-----" + +"No," broke in the plain-clothes man, reluctantly. "I'd have +done that if possible, but Dodge's father put the warrant in my +hand and insisted." + +"He?" echoed Darrin, bitterly. "The very man that Dick and I +rescued when he was out of his head and in the clutches of scoundrels +He? Oh, this is infamous---or crazy!" + +"I know it is," nodded Officer Hemingway sympathetically. "But +what am I to do when-----" + +"Hustle aboard, there, you Prescott and Darrin!" roared Captain +Wadleigh's voice from an open window. + +"You hear, Hemingway?" urged Dave. + +"Yes; but I can't help it," sighed the policeman. + +"We're not going---can't-----" fluttered Darrin. His voice was +low, but it reached the captain of the eleven. + +"What's that?" roared Wadleigh, making a dash for the door of +the car. "Keep your seats, you other fellows. I-----" + +"You go, Dave---you must!" commanded Dick. "Hurry! The train +is starting. Hustle! Play for both of us." + +Dick gave his chum a push that was compelling. Dave yielded, +boarding the step as the end of the car went by him. + +"What-----" began Wadleigh, breathlessly. + +"I'll explain," panted Darrin angrily. + +The train was now in full motion. + +"Hey, dere! Stop dot train, quick! Me! I am not off board, yet!" + +It was Herr Schimmelpodt, hot, perspiring and gasping, who now +raced upon the platform. For one of his weight, combined with +his lack of nimbleness, it was hazardous to attempt to board the +moving train. + +Yet Herr Schimmelpodt made a wild dash for the train. He would +have been mangled or killed, had not Officer Hemingway caught +the anxious German and pulled him back. + +"Hey, you! Vot for you do dot?" screamed Herr Schimmelpodt. +"Hey? Answer me dot vun, dumm-gesicht!" (Foolish-faced one.) + +"I did it to save you from going under the wheels," retorted Officer +Hemingway dryly. + +"Und now I don't go me by dot game today!" groaned Herr Schimmelpodt. +"Me! I dream apout dot game all der veek, und now I don't see +me by it." + +"But, man-----" + +"Hal's maul." (Literally' "Shut your mouth!") + +"Me! Und I Couldn't lose dot game for ein dollar!" glared the +prosperous German. + +He stared after the departed second section, from the open windows +of which fluttered or wildly waved many a banner; for few of the +Gridley crowd had yet discovered that one of the most prized members +of the team had been left behind. + +Herr Schimmelpodt it was, who, a wealthy retired contractor, had +found his second youth in his enthusiasm over the High School +baseball nine the season before. + +Though thrifty enough in most matters, the German had become a +liberal contributor to the High School athletic fund, to the great +dismay of his good wife, who feared that his new outdoor fads +would yet land them both in the poorhouse. + +"Vot you doing here, Bresgott?" demanded Herr Schimmelpodt, turning +upon the young prisoner. "Vy you ain't by dot elefen? How dey going +to vin bis you are behint left?" + +"You have company in your misery, sir," said Officer Hemingway. +"I'm awfully sorry to say that Dick Prescott can't see today's +game, either. It's a whopping shame, but sometimes the law is +powerless to do right." + +"What foolishness are you talking mit, vonce alretty?" demanded +Herr Schimmelpodt, looking bewildered. + +"I've just been arrested, on a false charge of assault," Dick +stated quietly. + +"You? Und you don't blay by der game yet' By der beard of Charlemagne," +howled Herr Schimmelpodt excitedly, "ve see apoud dot!" + +Digging down into a trouser's pocket this enthusiastic old High +School "rooter" brought up a roll of bills almost as large around +as a loaf of bread. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +A "FACER" FOR THE PLOTTER + + +"What are you going to do with all that wallpaper, Mr.Schimmelpodt?" +laughed Officer Hemingway. + +"Me? I gif bail, don't I?" demanded the German. + +"Well, you can't do it here. That's a matter to be fixed in court." + +"Und dot train going by a mile a minute, I bet you!" gasped the +German ruefully. + +"Come along, lad," urged Hemingway gently. "On Saturdays court +opens at one o'clock. We'll get right up there and see this matter +through." + +"I bet you've see dis matter through---right through someone, +ain't it?" exploded Herr Schimmelpodt, ranging himself on the +other side of the young prisoner. + +As they went along the German, using all his native and acquired +shrewdness, quickly got at the bottom of the matter. + +In the meantime indignant Dave Darrin was telling all he knew +about the business to an indignant lot of High School youngsters +in the day coach. + +"You keep your upper eyebrow stiff, Bresgott," urged the warm-hearted +German. "I see you through by dis business. Don't you worry." + +"Thank you, but it isn't the arrest that is really bothering me," +Prescott answered. "It's the feet that I'm fooled out of playing +this afternoon. And Darrin and I had been trained for so many +special tricks for today's game that I'm almost afraid my absence +will make a difference in the score. But, Herr Schimmelpodt, +if you want to help me, do you really mind dropping in at the +store and telling my father, so that he can come down to the court +room? Yet please be careful not to scare Dad. He has a horror +of courts and criminal law." + +"I bet you I do der chob---slick," promised the German, and hurried +away. + +"There goes a man that's all right, from his feet up to the top +of his head," declared Officer Hemingway. + +On the streets Dick's appearance with Hemingway attracted little +notice. Folks were used to seeing the High School reporter of +"The Blade" walking with this policeman-detective. The few who +really did notice merely wondered why Dick Prescott was not on +his way to the Tottenville gridiron today. + +When Hemingway and his prisoner reached the court room there were +only two or three loungers there, for it was still some minutes +before the time for the assembling of the court. + +Presently Bert Dodge and his friend, Bayliss, dropped in. They +glanced at the young left end with no attempt to conceal their +feelings of triumph. Bert looked much the worse for wear. + +Dick returned their looks coolly, but without defiance. He was +angry only that he should have been cheated of his right to play +in that big game. + +Then in came the elder Dodge, only just back from a sanitarium. +Beside him walked Lawyer Ripley, who immediately came over to +Dick, just before Herr Schimelpodt and Dick's father entered the +room hastily. + +"Prescott," began the old lawyer, sitting down beside the young +player, and speaking in a low tone, "I've just been called into +this matter, as I'm the Dodge family lawyer. Had my advice been +asked I would have demanded much more investigation. From what +knowledge I have of you, I don't regard you as one who is likely +to commit an unprovoked assault. Have you any objection to stating +your side of the case bearing in mind, of course, the fact that +I'm the Dodge lawyer." + +"Not the least in the world," Dick replied promptly. + +It was just at this moment that Herr Schimmelpodt and the elder +Prescott came hastening into the room. + +Bert Dodge and Bayliss looked over uneasily, several times, to +where Lawyer Ripley and the young prisoner sat. Dick's father +stood by in silence. He already knew his son's version of the +affair of the day before. Herr Schimmelpodt didn't say anything, +but sat down, breathing heavily. + +Then the clerk of the court and two court officers came in. Justice +Vesey entered soon after and took his seat on the bench. + +"The case of Dodge versus Prescott---I mean, the people against +Prescott, your honor, is the only thing on the docket this afternoon," +explained the clerk. + +"Is the case ready" inquired the justice mildly. + +"I will ask just a moment's delay, your, Honor," announced Lawyer +Ripley, rising. "I wish a moment's conference with my principals." + +The court nodding, Mr. Ripley crossed the room, engaging in earnest +whispered conversation with the Dodges, father and son. + +While this was going on a telegraph messenger boy entered. Espying +Dick, he went over and handed him a yellow envelope. Dick tore +it open. It was a telegram sent by Dave Darrin, on the way to +Tottenville, and read: + +"Fred Ripley said he heard insult offered you by Dodge yesterday. +Get case adjourned to Monday and Ripley will testify in your +behalf." + +Smiling, Dick passed the message to his father. Mr. Prescott, +after scanning the telegram, rose gravely, crossed the room and +handed the slip of paper to Lawyer Ripley. + +"If the court please, we are now ready with this case," announced +Lawyer Ripley. + +"Proceed, counselor. Mr. Clerk, you will swear such witnesses +as are to be called." + +"If the court please," hastily interjected Mr. Ripley. "I don't +believe it is going to be necessary to call any witnesses. With +the court's permission I will first make a few explanations." + +"This case, your Honor, is one in which Albert Dodge, a minor, +with the consent of his father, has preferred a charge of aggravated +assault against Richard Prescott, a minor. + +"That there was a fight, and that said Prescott did vigorously +assault young Dodge, there is no doubt. Prescott himself does +not deny it. But I am satisfied, if it please the court, that +the case is one in which, on the evidence, young Prescott is bound +to be discharged. I am satisfied that young Prescott had abundant +provocation for the assault he committed. Further, we have received +apparently satisfactory assurance by wire that a witness is prepared +to testify to conduct and speech, on the part of young Dodge, +that would justify an assault, or, as the boys call it, 'a fight.' +Now, your Honor, if the prisoner, Prescott, through his father, +will agree to hold the elder Dodge blameless in the matter of +civil damages on account of this arrest, I shall move to have +the case dismissed." + +"Will you so agree, Mr. Prescott," inquired the court, glancing +at Dick's father. + +"Yes," agreed the elder Prescott, "though I must offer my opinion +that this arrest has been a shameful outrage." + +"My client, the elder Dodge-----" began Lawyer Ripley, in a low +voice. + +"Case dismissed," broke in Justice Vesey briskly, and Mr. Ripley +did not finish his remark. + +Bowing to the court, Dick rose, picked up his hat and started +out with his father. + +But once outside Herr Schimmelpodt caught them both by the arm. + +"Vait!" he commanded. "I much vant to hear me vot Lawyer Ripley +haf to say to dot young scallavag." + +"Are you talking about me?" demanded Bert Dodge, flushingly hotly, +for, just at that moment, he turned out of the court room into +the corridor. + +"Maybe," assented Herr Schimmelpodt. + +"Then stuff a sausage in your Dutch mouth, and be quiet," retorted +Bert impudently. + +"Young man, if your father hat not enough gontrol of er you, den +I vill offer him dot I teach you manners by a goot spanking," +replied Herr Schimmelpodt stiffly. + +"Bert, you will be silent before your elders," ordered Mr Dodge. +"You have come close enough to getting me into trouble today. +Had I understood the whole story of the fight, as I do now, I +never would have backed your application for a warrant." + +If you meet with any rebuke from young Prescott's friends, take +it in meekness, for you richly deserve censure." + +"As you are only a boy, Bert, and I am your father's lawyer," +broke in Mr. Ripley, even more sternly, "I have used whatever +powers of persuasion I may have to have this case ended mildly. +The Prescotts might have sued your father for a round sum in +damages for false arrest. And, if you and Bayliss had sworn falsely +as to the nature and causes of the fight, you might both have +been sent away to the reformatory on charges of perjury. Remember +that the law against false swearing applies to boys as much as +it does to men. And now, good day, Mr. Dodge. I trust you will +be able to convince your son of his wrongdoing." + +However, the elder Dodge, despite his momentary sternness, was +not a parent who exercised much influence over his son. Half +an hour later Bert had out the family runabout, making fast time +toward Tottenville. + +"Bert," said Bayliss, rather soberly, "I'm inclined to think that +Lawyer Ripley was good enough to get us out of a fearful scrape." + +"That's what he's paid for," sniffed Bert "He's my father's lawyer." + +"Then I'm glad your father has a good lawyer. Whew! It makes +me sick when I stop to think that we might have been trapped into +giving---er---prejudiced testimony, and that then we might have +been shipped off to the reformatory until we're of age!" + +"Ain't Fred Ripley the sneak, though!" ejaculated Bert angrily. +"The idea of him standing ready to 'queer' a case against his +father's clients! I thought Fred had more class and caste than +to go against his own crowd for the sake of a mere mucker!" + +"Well, the thing turned out all right, anyway," muttered Bayliss. +"We're off in time to see the game." + +"And that's more than Dick Prescott will do today," laughed Bert +sullenly. "He can't catch a train to Tottenville, now, in time +for the game." + +"If Gridley loses the game today," hinted Bayliss, "I suppose +the fellows will all feel that it was because Prescott didn't +go along. Then they'll all feel like roasting us." + +"Oh, bother what the High School ninnies think---or say," grunted +Bert. + +Fifteen minutes later there was a loud popping sound. Then a +tire flattened out, so that it became necessary for the young +men to get out and busy themselves with putting on another tire. +At this task they did not succeed very well until, finally, another +automobilist came along and gave the boys effective help. + +So it was that, by the time the pair reached Tottenville, housed +the car at a garage, and reached Tottenville's High School athletic +field, the game was well on. + +As the two young men reached the grand stand the Gridley contingent +were on their feet, breathless. + +Gridley had the ball down to the ten-yard line from Tottenville's +goal. Captain Wadleigh's signals were ringing out, crisp and +clear. A whistle sounded. + +Then the ball was put swiftly into play. Tottenville put up a +sturdy resistance against Gridley's left end. + +Dave Darrin had the ball, and appeared to be trying to break through +the Tottenville line, well backed by Gridley's interference. + +Of a sudden there was a subtle, swift pass, and Gridley's left +end darted along, almost parallel with the ten-yard line, then +made a dashing cut around and past Tottenville. + +Two of the home team tackled that left end, but he shook them +off. In another instant----- + +"Touchdown!" yelled the frantic Gridley boosters. + +"Touchdown! Oh, you Darrin! Oh, you Prescott!" + +Bert Dodge rubbed his eyes. + +"Prescott?" he muttered. + +"Blazes, but that is Prescott!" faltered Bayliss, with a sickly +grin. + +"How did he ever get over here in time to play?" demanded Bert +Dodge. + +Herr Schimmelpodt could have told. The stout, sport-loving old +contractor had parted with some of his greenbacks to a chauffeur +who had put Dick and himself over the long road to Tottenville. +And the young left end was playing, today, in his finest form! + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +"THE CATTLE CAR FOR YOURS" + + +It was Dave Darrin who kicked the goal. This ran the score up +to six to nothing in Gridley's favor. + +It was the first scoring in a game that had begun by looking all +bad for Gridley. + +The Tottenville High School boys were bigger than the visitors +and fully as speedy. + +In fact, even now, to impartial observers, it looked as though +these six points on the score had been won by what was little +better than a fluke. + +"Gridley can't keep this up," remarked the Tottenville boosters +confidently. "They'll lose their wind and nerve against our fine +line before the game is much older." + +The first half went out with score unchanged. But Captain Wadleigh +did heave a sigh of relief when the time keeper cut in on that +first half. + +"Fellows, look out for the fine points," he warned his fellows, +after they had trotted into quarters. "It'll be craft, not strong +rush, that wins for us today, if anything does." + +"Prescott's here. He and Darrin can put anything over in the +line of craft," laughed Fred Ripley. + +Ripley was in togs, but was not playing. He was on the sub line, +today, awaiting a call in case any player of his team became disabled. + +"Darrin and Prescott are all right," nodded Wadleigh gruffly. +"But they have endurance limits, like other human beings. Don't +rely too much upon any two or three men, fellows. Now, in the +second half"---here Wadleigh lowered his voice---"I'm going to +spare Prescott and Darrin all I can. So you other fellows look +out for hard work." + +Dick's eyes were still flashing. This was not from the fever +of the game, but from the recollection of how narrowly he had +escaped being tricked out of this chance to play today. + +On his arrival, and while dressing before the game, Prescott had +related to the team the mean trick that had been played upon him. +He had also told how the case came out in court. + +"Dodge and Bayliss are traitors to the school!" cried Purcell +indignantly. "We'll have to give 'em the silence!" + +"Hear! Hear!" cried several of the fellows. + +This, in other words, meant that Dodge and Bayliss would be "sent to +Coventry"---shut out from all social contact with the school body +during the remainder of the school year. + +"I think I'm with you, fellows," nodded Captain Wadleigh. "However, +remember that the football team can't settle all school questions. +We'll take this up when we get back to Gridley." + +In the second half it was not long before Gridley did go stale +and tired. But so, too, to the disgust of home boosters, did +the Tottenville High School boys. + +The game became a sheer test of endurance. Gridley, under Wadleigh, +played with a doggedness that made Tottenville put forth all its +strength. + +"Brace up, you lobsters," growled Captain Grant of the home team, +after the whistle had sounded on Tottenville's "down" with the +ball. "Buck the simple Gridley youths. Wade through their line +as if you fellows were going to dinner half an hour late. Don't +let them wind you, or stop you!" + +Tottenville threw all its force into the following plays. Surely, +doggedly, the home boys forced the ball down the gridiron. At +last Gridley was forced to make a safety, thus scoring two points +for their opponents. + +"Don't let that happen again, fellows," urged Wadleigh anxiously. +"Fight for time, but don't throw any two-spots away." + +"Rally, men! Brace! Crush 'em!" ordered Captain Grant. "Seven +minutes left! We've got to score." + +These muttered orders caused a grim smile among the Tottenville +High School boys, for the only way to tie the score would be to +force Gridley to make two more safeties---a hard thing to do against +a crack eleven in seven minutes! + +Dick and Dave Darrin were called into play as soon as the visitors +had the ball in their own hands once more. + +The "trick" signal sounded from quarter-back's lips. + +"One---three---seven---eleven!" + +There was instant, seemingly sly activity on the part of Gridley's +right wing. Those from Gridley who stood on the grand stand thought +that the coming play looked bad in advance. + +"Why don't they use Prescott again?" asked some one anxiously. +"He has been having a vacation." + +Then followed the snap-back. Quarter-back started with the ball, +and it looked as though he would dash for the right. + +The quarter took one step, then wheeled like lightning, and rushed +after Darrin, who already was in swift motion. + +Gridley's whole line switched for the left. + +Tottenville found out the trick after the heaviest fellows in +its line had started for Gridley's right. + +"Oh, Darrin---sprint! Oh, you Prescott!" + +Truly the boosters were howling themselves hoarse. + +There was frenzy on in an instant. + +To the knowing among the watchers there was no chance for Gridley +to rush down on the enemy's goal line, but every yard---every +foot, now---carried the pigskin just so much further from Gridley's +goal line. + +Gridley's interference rushed in solidly about Dave Darrin, as +though to boost him through. + +Dick seemed bent on beating down some of the formation surging +against the visitors. + +Just as the bunch "clumped" Dave Darrin went down. There was +a surge over him, and then Dick Prescott was seen racing as though +for life. + +There was no opposition left---only Tottenville's quarter-back +and the fullback. + +Tottenville's quarter got after fleeting Dick too late, for the +whole movement had been one of startling trickery. + +One Tottenville halfback was too far away to make an obstructing +dash in time. + +In dodging the other halfback Dick dashed on as though not seeing +the fellow. This, however, was all trick. Just in the nick of +time Prescott, still holding the ball, ducked and dodged far to +the left, getting around his man. + +Tottenville's fullback was now the sole hope of the home team. + +Prescott, however, dodged that heavy fellow, also. + +From the Gridley boosters on the grand stand went up a medley +of yells that dinned in the young left end's ears. Panting, all +but fainting, Dick was over the enemy's goal line and he had the +ball down. + +When Dave had emerged from that fruitless clumping he had a broad +grin on his face. He saw that while Dick was not yet over the +goal line, only the fullback was in the way and the fullback +was no match for Dick in the matter of speed. + +Then the yells told the rest. Back came the ball. Captain Wadleigh +nodded to Dave to kick the goal. + +Captain Grant looked utterly wild. He had assured everyone in +Tottenville who had asked him that the Gridley "come ons" would +be eaten alive. And here-----! + +Dave made the kick. After going down in that bunch Darrin was +not at his best. Body and nerves were tired. He failed to kick +the goal. + +Hardly, however, had the two teams been started in a new line-up +when the time keeper did his trick. The game was over. + +That last kick had failed, but who cared? The score was eleven +to two! + +Ere the players could escape from the field the Gridley boosters +were over on the gridiron. + +Dick and Dave were bodily carried to dressing quarters. Wadleigh, +who had shown fine generalship in this stiff game was cheered +until the boosters went hoarse. + +"Gentlemen," cried Coach Morton, raising his voice to its fullest +carrying power as the dressing quarters filled, "it's probably +too early to brag, but I feel that we've got an old-fashioned +Gridley eleven this year." + +"Ask Grant!" + +"Ask anybody in Tottenville!" + +The first yell was sent up by Ripley, the second by another substitute. + +All the Gridley members of the team were excited at the close +of this game. Not even their weariness kept down their spirits. + +Herr Schimmelpodt didn't attempt to enter quarters. He was now +too much of a "sport" to attempt that. But he stood just outside +the door, vigorously mopping his shining, wet face. + +There were two extra places in the German's hired car. Dave, +of course, was asked to fill one of these, and Captain Wadleigh +was invited to take the fifth seat. + +More dejected than ever were Bert Dodge and his chum, Bayliss, +as they slouched away from the grounds. They did not attempt +to invade the gridiron and join in the triumphal procession to +quarters. + +"You can't seem to down that fellow Prescott," muttered Bayliss, +in disgust. "Just as you think you've got him by the throat you +find out that he's sitting on your chest and pulling your hair." + +"Oh, I don't know," growled Dodge sulkily. "He may have his weak +spot, and it may be a very weak spot at that." + +The pair moped along until they reached the garage in which they +had left the runabout. + +Bayliss was standing near the doorway, while Bert inspected the +machinery of the car. + +"Pest! Look out there," muttered Bayliss, stepping back from +the open doorway. + +"What is it?" demanded Bert. "Oh, I see! Old Schimmelpodt brought +the beggar Prescott over here in an auto. That's how the fellow +managed to get into the game, after all. Well, what of it all, +anyway?" + +"That car is running along slowly, and it has a full-sized crowd +in it," muttered Bayliss, going closer to his crony. "Wadleigh, +Prescott and Darrin---and maybe the chauffeur is a thick friend +of theirs." + +"What on earth are you driving at?" demanded Dodge, glancing up. + +"Bert, I don't believe I'm wholly stuck on the scheme of us driving +back to Gridley. There are too many lonely spots along the road. + +"Do you think they'd assassinate us?" jeered Bert. + +"I---I think Wadleigh may have formed the notion of stopping us +and giving us a thrashing," responded Bayliss. + +"Bosh!" snapped Dodge quickly. + +Yet, none the less, he paused and looked thoughtful. + +"There's more than one road to Gridley, old fellow," muttered +Bert uneasily. "You see Schimmelpodt and that mocker didn't pass +us on the way here." + +"But I think they're likely to have guessed our road," persisted +Bayliss. "There was an ugly look on Wadleigh's face, too, as +that car drove past here." + +"But old Schimmelpodt wouldn't stand for anything disorderly +and---unlawful," urged Bert. + +"I don't know about that," retorted Bayliss significantly. "That +old German has gone crazy over High School sports. He might stand +in for 'most anything. You know, he offered your Dad to give you +a spanking this afternoon." + +The thought of Herr Schimmelpodt's big and capable-looking hands +caused Bert to shiver a bit uneasily. Yet he didn't want to +admit that he was scared. He glanced at his watch. + +"We've time to catch the regular train back, I suppose, Bayliss." + +"Let's do it, then," begged the other. + +"Will you pay a chauffeur to take this car home, then?" + +"I'll pay half," volunteered Bayliss eagerly. + +"All right, then; if you're pretty near broke, we'll divide the +cost," agreed Dodge. + +An arrangement was easily made with the owner of the garage. +Then, the charges paid, this pair of cronies, who considered themselves +much better than the usual run of High School boys, hurried over +to the railway station. + +The train was waiting by the time that the pair arrived. Bert +and Bayliss hastily purchased tickets, then boarded the handiest +car. The train proved to contain few people except the Gridley +student body and boosters from that town. + +"Here, what are you fellows doing in here?" angrily demanded Purcell, +as the cronies entered one of the cars. + +"We're going to ride to Gridley, if you've no objections," replied +Bert, with sulky defiance. + +"No, sir; not in this car!" declared Purcell promptly. "Too many +decent people here. The cattle car for yours!" + +"Oh, shut up!" retorted Dodge, trying to shove into a vacant seat. + +But Purcell gripped him and pushed him back. + +"No, siree! Not in here! The cattle car is your number." + +"You-----" + +"We'll pitch you off the train if you have the cheek to try to +ride in this ear," insisted Purcell. + +High School boys, when off on a junket of this kind, are likely to +be as wild as college boys. A score of the Gridley youths now +jumped up. It looked as though there were going to be a riot. + +"Oh, come on," snarled Bayliss, plucking his crony's sleeve. +"We don't want to ride with this truck, anyway." + +Into the next car stamped the two young men, their faces red with +anger and shame. + +"Sneaks!" piped up some one. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +FACING THE "SCHOOL CUT" + + +At the instant of their entrance into the car the air had been +full of merry chatter. + +There were many High School girls in this car, and not many vacant +seats. + +As the word "sneaks" sounded through the car everyone turned around. + +Bert and Bayliss found themselves uncomfortably conspicuous. + +At once all the talk and laughter ceased. Stony silence followed. + +One of the girls was sitting alone in a seat. + +Bayliss, unable to endure the situation any longer, glided forward, +dropping into the vacant place. + +"That seat is engaged," the girl coolly informed him. + +So Bayliss, redder than ever, hurriedly rose. + +Bert had already started for the next car. Bayliss slunk along +after him. + +"Sneaks!" cried some one, as they showed their faces in still +the next car forward. + +Here, too, all the chatter stormed at once. + +Bert, pulling his hat down over his eyes, went hurriedly past +the boys and girls of Gridley, and into the next car. + +Bayliss followed with the fidelity and closeness of a little dog. + +Now, the next car ahead proved to be the smoking car. Here, at +any rate, the despised pair could find safe harborage. + +But one of the men of Gridley, who had followed the football team +this day, and who had got an inkling of the story of the arrest, +removed a cigar from between his lips and pointed an accusing +finger at the boys. + +"See here, you fellows!" he shouted. "This car is exclusively +for men. Can you take a hint?" + +"But we've got to sit somewhere," flashed Bert defiantly. + +"I don't know as that's necessary, either," retorted the Gridley +man. "At least, I don't care if it is. After your dirty little +trick, today, we don't want you in here among men. Do we, neighbors?" + +There were many mutterings, some cat-calls and at least a score +of men rose. + +"You let me alone, you fellows!" yelled Bert Dodge, as he made +a break for the front end of the car. "Don't any of you dare +to get fresh with me!" + +By the time he had reached the front end of the car Bert was almost +sobbing with anger and shame. + +Bayliss had followed, white and silent. + +In the baggage car, to their relief, the sole railway employee +there did not object to their presence. + +Bert and his crony found seats on two trunks side by side. + +"Dodge," whispered Bayliss unsteadily, after the train had pulled +out from Tottenville, "I'm afraid we're in bad with the school +push." + +"Afraid?" sneered Bert. "Man, don't you know it?" + +"Well, it's all your fault---this whole confounded row!" + +"Oh, you're going to play welsher, are you?" sneered Bert. "Humph! +By morning you'll be a full-fledged mucker!" + +"Don't you worry about that," argued Bayliss, though rather stiffly. +"I know my family---and my caste." + +"I should hope so," rejoined Dodge, with just a shade more cordiality. + +Rather than alight at Gridley, and face the whole High School +crowd---for scores who had not been able to meet the expense of +the trip to Tottenville would be sure to be at the station to +meet the victorious team---Bert and Bayliss rode on to the next +station, then got off and walked two miles back to town. + +By Monday morning the punishment of the pair was made complete. + +Bert and Bayliss walked to school together. As they drew near +the grounds both young men felt their hearts beating faster. + +"I wonder if there's anything in for us?" whispered Dodge. + +"Sure to be," responded Bayliss. + +"Well, the fellows had better not try anything too frisky. If +they do, they'll give us a chance to make trouble for 'em!" + +It seemed as though the full count of the student body, boys and +girls, had assembled in the yard this morning. + +All was gay noise until the pair of cronies appeared at the gate. + +Then, swiftly, all the noise died out. + +One could hardly hear even a breath being drawn. + +The silence was complete as Bert and Bayliss, now very white, +stepped into the yard. + +Though not a voice sounded, every eye was turned on the white-faced +pair. + +Bert Dodge's lips moved. He tried to summon us control enough +of his tongue to utter some indifferent remark to his companion. + +But the sound simply wouldn't come. + +After a walk that was only a few yards in distance, yet seemed +only less than a mile in length, the humiliated pair rushed up +the steps, opened the great door and let themselves in. + +At recess neither Bayliss nor Dodge had the courage to appear +outside. As they left school that afternoon they were treated +to the same dose of "silence." + +Tuesday morning neither Dodge nor Bayliss showed up at all at +school. + +On Thursday morning High School readers of "The Blade" were greatly +interested in the following personal paragraph: + +_"Bayliss and Dodge, both of the senior class, High School, have +severed their connection with that institution. It is understood +that the young men are going elsewhere in search of better educational +facilities."_ + +That was all, but it told the boys and girls at Gridley High School +all that they needed to know. + +"That is the very last gasp of the 'sorehead' movement," grinned +Tom Reade, in talking it over with Dan Dalzell. + +"Well, they did the whole trick for themselves," rejoined Dan. +"No one else touched them, or pushed them. They took all the +rope they wanted---and hanged themselves. Now, that pair will +probably feel cheap every time they have to come back to Gridley +and walk the streets." + +"All they had to do was to be decent fellows," mused Tom. "But +the strain of decency proved to be too severe for them." + +In the High School yard that Thursday morning there was one unending +strain of rejoicing. + +Some of the other late "soreheads," who had escaped the full meed +of humiliation---Davis, Cassleigh, Fremont, Porter and others---actually +sighed with relief when they found what they had escaped in the +way of ridicule and contempt. + +"The whole thing teaches us one principle," muttered Fremont to Porter. + +"What is that?" + +"Never tackle the popular idol in any mob. If you can't get along +with him, avoid him---but don't try to buck him!" + +"Humph!" retorted Porter. "If you mean Prescott and his gang---Dick +& Co., as the fellows call them---I can follow one part of your +advice by avoiding them. I never did and never could like that +mucker Prescott!" + +The fact of interest to Dick would have been that he appeared +to enjoy the respect of at least ninety-five per cent. of the +student body of the High School. + +Surely that percentage of popularity is enough for anyone. The +fellow can get along without the approbation of a few "soreheads"! + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +"PRIN." GETS IN THE PRACTICE + + +If Dodge and Bayliss devoted any time to farewells among their +late fellow-students before quitting Gridley the fact did not +seem to leak out. + +Yet despite the absence of two young men who considered themselves +of such great importance the Gridley High School appeared to go +on about the same as ever. + +It was the season of football, and nearly of the school's interest +and enthusiasm seemed to spend itself in that direction. Coach +Morton did all in his power to push the team on to perfection; +the other teachers worked harder than ever to keep the interest +of the students sufficiently on their studies. The girls, as +well as the boys, suffered from the infection of the gridiron +microbe. + +Five more games with other High School teams were fought out, +and now Gridley had an unbroken record of victories so far for +the season. + +Such a history can often be built up in the athletics of a High +School, but it has to be a school attended by the cream of young +manhood and having an abundance of public interest and enthusiasm +behind it all. + +Not at any time in the season did Coach Morton allow the training +work to slacken. Regularly the entire squad turned out for field +work. If the afternoon proved to be stormy, then four blasts +on the city fire alarm, at either two o'clock or two-thirty, notified +the young men that they were to report at the gym. instead. +There, the work, though different, was just as severe. The result +was that every youngster in the squad "reeked" with good condition +all through the season. + +It is in just this respect that many a High School eleven fails +to "make really good." In a team where discipline is lax some +of the fellows are sure to rebel at spending "all their time training." +Where the coach exercises too limited authority, or when he is +too "easy," the team's record is sure to suffer in consequence. +Many a High School eleven comes out a tail-ender just because +the coach is not strict enough, or cannot be. Many a team composed +of naturally husky and ambitious boys fails on account of a light-weight +coach. On the other hand, the best coach in the country can't +make a winning eleven out of fellows who won't work or be disciplined. + +Coach Morton's authority was unbounded. After the team had been +organized for the season it took action by the Athletics Committee +of the Alumni Association to drop a man from the team. But coach +and captain could drop the offender back to the "sub" seats and +keep him there. Moreover, it was well known that Mr. Morton's +recommendation that a certain young man be dropped was all the +hint that the Athletics Committee needed. + +Under failing health, or when duties prevented full attention +to football training, a member of the team was allowed to resign. +But an offending member couldn't resign. He was dropped, and +in the eyes of the whole student body being dropped signified +deep disgrace. + +In five out of the won games Dick Prescott had played left end, +and without accident. Yet, as it was wholly possible that he +might be laid up at any instant, the coach was assiduously training +Dan Dalzell and Tom Reade to play at either end of the line. +Other subs were rigorously trained for other positions, but Dan +and Tom were regarded as the very cream of the sub players in +the light-weight positions. + +Dan had played left end in one of the lesser gables, and had shown +himself a swift, brilliant gridironist, though he was not quite +as crafty as Prescott. + +Tom Reade had less of strategy than Dan but relied more upon great +bursts of speed and in the sheer ability to run away from impending +tackle. + +Now the boys were training for the team's eighth game, the one +to be played against the Hepburn Falls High School, a strong +organization. + +"Remember that a tie saves the record, but that it doesn't look +as well as a winning," Coach Morton coaxed the squad dryly, as +they started in for afternoon practice. + +"We miss the mascot that the earlier High School teams used to +have," remarked Hudson. + +"Yes? What was it?" inquired coach. + +"Why, bully old Dr. Thornton used to drop in for a few minutes, +'most every practice afternoon?" replied Hudson. "I can remember +just how his full, kindly old face, with the twinkling eyes, used +to encourage the fellows up to the prettiest work that was in +then. Oh, he was a mascot---Dr. Thornton was!" + +Coach Morton was of the same mind, but he didn't say so, as it +would sound like a rejection on the present unpopular principal, +Abner Cantwell. + +This afternoon there was no real team practice Mr. Morton wanted +certain individual play features brought out more strongly. One +of these was the kicking of the ball. + +After several had worked with the pigskin Morton called out: + +"Now, Prescott, you take the ball, and drop back to the twenty-five-yard +line. When you get there name your shot---that is, tell us where +you intend to put the ball. Where doesn't matter as long as it +is a long kick and a true one. After you name your shot, then +run swiftly to the center of the field. From there, without a +long pause, kick and see how straight you can drive for the point +you have named." + +"All right, sir," nodded Dick. Tucking the pigskin under his +arm, he jogged back to the twenty-five-yard line. + +"Right over there!" called Dick, pointing. "I'll try to drop +the ball in the front row of seats, second section past the entrance." + +"Very good, Prescott!" + +No one was sitting in the section named by Prescott, but a few +onlookers who had been squatting in a section near by hastily +moved. + +"The duffers! They needn't think I am going to hit them with +the ball," muttered Dick. Then he started on a hard run. + +Just at center he stopped abruptly, swung back his right foot +and dropped the ball. + +It was a hard, fast drive. The ball arched upward, somewhat, +though it did not travel high. + +But to Dick, standing still to watch the effect of his kick there +came a sudden jolt. A man had just appeared, walking through +the entrance passage. His head, well up above the sloping sides +of the passage at this point, was not right in line with the ball. + +And that man was Principal Cantwell! + +Several members of the squad saw what might happen, but every +one of them was too eagerly expectant to make a sound to prevent +the threatened catastrophe. + +Dick saw and half shivered. Yet in his desire to say something +in the fewest words of warning, all he could think of was: + +"Low bridge!" + +Nor did Coach Morton succeed in thinking of anything more helpful, +for he shouted only: + +"Mr. Cantwell!" + +"Eh?" asked the principal, turning toward the coach and therefore +not seeing the ball that was now nearly upon him. + +Mr. Cantwell, on this afternoon, having a few calls in mind, had +arrayed himself in his best. He wore a long black frock coat +which, he imagined, made him look at least as distinguished as +a diplomat. In the matter of silk hats, being decidedly economical, +Mr. Cantwell allowed himself a new one only once in two years. +But new one had been due; he had just bought one, and now wore +this glossy thing in the latest style. + +There was no time for more warning. + +The descending ball was in straight line with that elegant hat. + +Bump! The pigskin struck the hat full and fair, carrying it from +the principal's head. + +On sailed hat and football for some three feet, the hat managing +to run upside down. + +R-r-r-rip! The force with which the football was traveling impaled +the hat on a picket at the side of the stand. Then, as if satisfied +with fits work, the football struck and bounded back, landing +at the principal's feet. + +For one moment Mr. Cantwell was dumb with amazement. + +Then he saw his impaled hat and realized the extent and tragedy +of his loss. The angered man went white with wrath. + +"What ruffian did that!" he roared. + +But the boys, unable to hold in any longer, had let out a concerted +though half-suppressed "whoop!" and now came running to the spot. + +"Who kicked my hat off?" demanded the principal, pointing tragically +to the piece of headgear, through the crown and past the rim of +which the picket now stood up as though in triumph. + +"You---you got in the way of---the ball, sir," explained Drayne, +trying hard to keep from roaring out with laughter. + +"But some one kicked the ball my way," insisted the principal, +with utter sternness. "Don't tell me that no one did! That football +could not By through the air without some one propelling it. +Now, young gentlemen, who kicked that ball?" + +"I did, Mr. Cantwell," admitted Dick, pushing his way through +the throng. "And I'm very sorry that anything like this has happened, +sir." + +"On, you did it, oh?" demanded the principal, eyeing the young +man witheringly. "And you actually expect an apology to restore +my new and expensive hat to its former pristine condition of splendor?" + +"I didn't know you were there, sir," Dick explained. "You didn't +appear until just after I had kicked the ball." + +"Prescott is quite right, Mr. Cantwell," put in Coach Morton. +"None of us knew you were here in the passage until the ball +had been kicked---not, in fact, until the ball was almost upon +you." + +"Then, when you saw me, why didn't you call out to warn me?" demanded +the principal, still fearfully angry, though trying to keep back +unparliamentary language. + +"I did call out, sir," replied Dick. "There was mighty little +time to think, but I called out the two quickest words I could +think of." + +"What did you call?" demanded the principal. + +"I yelled 'low bridge!'" + +"A most idiotic expression," snorted the principal. "What on +earth does it mean, anyway?" + +"It means to duck, sir," Prescott answered. + +"Duck?" retorted Mr. Cantwell, glaring suspiciously at the sober-faced +young left end. "Now, what on earth does 'duck' mean, unless +you refer to a web-footed species of poultry?" + +"Prescott was rattled, beyond a doubt, Mr. Cantwell," interposed +Coach Morton. "So was I---the time was so short. All I could +think of as to call out to you by name." + +"With the result that I looked your way--- and lost my row hat," +snapped the principal. He now turmoil to take the spoiled article +off the paling. He looked at it almost in anguish, for he had +been very proud of that glossy article. + +"It's a shame," muttered Drayne, with mock sympathy. + +"That's what it is," agreed Dave Darrin innocently. "But---Mr. +Morton---I think the matter can be fixed satisfactorily. If +you call this to the attention of the Athletics Committee won't +they vote to appropriate the price of a new hat out of the High +School athletics fund? You know, the fund is almost overburdened +with money this year." + +"That might not be a bad idea," broke in the principal eagerly. +"Will you call this to the attention of the Committee, Mr. Morton, +For it was in coming here to watch the young men that I lost my +fine, new hat." + +"Now, I'm heartily sorry," replied Mr. Morton, "but I am certain +the members of the committee will feel that money contributed +by the citizens of the town can hardly be expended in purchasing +hats for anyone." + +"But-----" Mr. Cantwell began to expostulate. Then he stopped, +very suddenly. Just as plainly as anyone else present the principal +now saw the absurdity of expecting a new hat out of the athletics +fund. Mr. Cantwell shot a very savage look at innocent-appearing +Dave Darrin. + +"My afternoon is spoiled, as well as my hat," remarked the principal, +turning to leave with as much dignity as could be expected from +man who bore such a battered hat in his hands. + +"The hatter might be able to block your hat out and repair it," +suggested Hudson, though without any real intention of offering +aid. "Our coachman had that sort of trick done to played-out +old silk hat that Dad gave him." + +"Mr. Hudson," returned the principal, turning and glaring at this +latest polite tormentor, "will you be good enough to remember +that I am not extremely interested in your family history. + +"Back to your practice, men!" called the coach sharply, after +the last had been seen of the back of the principal's black coat. + +"It was too bad!" muttered Dick, in a tone of genuine regret. + +"Say that again, and I'll make an effort to thrash you, Prescott!" +challenged Hudson, with a grin. + +"Well, I am sorry it happened," Dick insisted. "And mighty sorry, +too." + +"You couldn't help it." + +"I know it, but that hardly lessens my regret. I don't enjoy +the thought of having destroyed anyone else's property, even if +I couldn't help it and can't be blamed. + +"Prescott said he didn't know I was there!" exclaimed Mr. Cantwell +angrily to himself. "Bosh! That boy has been a thorn in my side +ever since I became principal of the school. Of course he saw +me---and he kicked wonderfully straight! Oh, how I wish I could +make him wear this hat every day during the balance of the school +year! Such a handsome hat---eight dollars!" + +"It's a shame to tell you," confided Dave Darrin, as he and Dick +headed the sextette of chums on the homeward tramp, "but you're +certainly looking in great condition, old fellow." + +"I feel simply perfect, physically," Dick replied. "I have, in +fact, ever since I first began to train in the baseball squad +last season. It's wonderful what training does for a fellow! +I know there's a heap of bad condition in the world, but I often +wonder why there is. Why, Dave, I ought to knock wood, of course, +but I feel so fine that it seems as though nothing could put me +out of form." + +At that moment young Prescott had no idea how easily a few minutes +could bring one from the best possible condition to the brink +of physical despair. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +LAURA AND BELLE HAVE A SECRET + + +"Only a team of fools would hope to stop Gridley High School this +year." + +Thus stated the Elliston "Tribune" after Gridley had walked through +Elliston High School, one of the strongest school teams of the +state, by a score of eight to nothing. + +That copy of "The Tribune" found its way over to Gridley, and +fell into the hands of some of the High School boys. + +"Be careful, young men," warned Mr. Morton. "Don't get it too +seriously into your heads that you can't be beaten, or your downfall +will date from that hour. The true idea is not that on can't +be beaten, but that you won't. Stick to the latter idea as well +as you do to your training, and it will be a good eleven, indeed, +that can get a game away from you." + +"Only two more to play this year, anyway," replied Hudson. "We +can't lose much." + +"The team might lose two, and that would a worse record than any +Gridley eleven has made in five years," retorted Mr. Morton dryly. + +"We won't lose 'em, though," rejoined Tom Reade. "Every fellow +in the squad is in a conspiracy to pull the eleven through the +next two games---by its hair, if necessary." + +"That line of thought is better than conceit," smiled the coach. + +The game with Paunceboro High School came off, one of the most +stubbornly fought battles that Gridley had ever entered. It seemed +impossible to score against this enemy. + +Again and again Dick broke around the left end in a spirited dash, +or Dan Dalzell made one of his swift sorties at right end. Then, +by the time that Paunceboro had grown used to end dashes, Gridley +would make a smashing charge at center. + +All these styles of attack, however, Paunceboro met smilingly. +In the first half there was no score. + +Yet Paunceboro did not succeed any better in getting through or +around Gridley's line of flexible human steel. Until within ten +minutes before the close of the second half, it looked like a +tie between giants of the school gridiron. + +Then, by a series of feints in which Prescott, Darrin, Drayne +and Hudson bore off the most brilliant honors, although all under +Wadleigh's planning, Paunceboro was sorely pressed down against +its own goal line. + +Just in the nick of time Paunceboro made a safety, and thus sent +the ball back up the field. But it cost Paunceboro two +reluctantly-given points, and that was the score---two to nothing. + +Gridley was still victor in every game so far played in the season. +November was now far along, and there remained only the great +Thanksgiving Day game. This contest, against Filmore High School, +was to be fought out on the Gridley field. + +"Your football season will soon be over, Dick," remarked Laura +Bentley, one afternoon when Prescott and Darrin, on their way +back from coach's gridiron grilling, met Laura and Belle on Main +Street. + +"This season will soon be over," replied Dick "but I hope for +another next year." + +"And then, perhaps, at college?" hinted Belle. + +"If we go to college," replied Dick slowly. + +"Why? Don't you expect to?" asked Laura, in some surprise. + +"We are not sure," murmured Dick, "that we want to go to college." + +"Why, I thought both of you were ambitious for higher education," +cried Belle. + +"So we are," nodded Dave. + +"Oh! Then, if not to college, you are going to some scientific +school?" guessed Laura. + +"I wonder if you two could keep a secret?" laughed Dick teasingly. + +"Try us!" challenged Belle Meade. + +Dick glanced at Dave, who gave a barely perceptible nod. + +"No; we won't try you," retorted Dick "We'll trust you, without +any promise on your part." + +"Good!" cried Laura, in a gratified tone. + +"Well?" inquired Belle, as neither boy spoke. + +"It's just here, then," Prescott went on, in a low tone, after +glancing around to make sure that no one else was within hearing. +"The Congressman from this district, in a year or so more, will +have the filling of a vacancy at West Point. That means a cadetship +from this district. Now, a Congressman can appoint a cadet as a +matter of favoritism, or to pay a political debt to some relative of +the boy he so appoints. But the custom, in this district, has +always been for the Congressman to appoint the boy who comes out +best in a competitive examination. The examination is thrown +open to all boys, of proper age, who can first pass a good physical +examination." + +"So you're both going to try for it?" asked Belle quickly. + +"No," retorted Dave very quickly. "That would make us rivals. +Dick and I don't want to be rivals." + +"Then where do you come in?" asked Belle, glancing curiously at +Darrin. + +"Whisper!" replied Dave, looking mischievously mysterious. After +a pause he continued, almost in a whisper: + +"At just about the same time there will be a vacancy at Annapolis. +So while Dick is trying to get a job carrying the banner for +the Army, it will be little David trying for a chance to be a +second Farragut in the Navy." + +Dick winced at his chum's rather slighting allusion to an Army +career, but on this one point of preference in the way of the +service, the two chums were willing to disagree. Darrin wouldn't +have gone to West Point if he could. Dick admitted the greatness +of the American Navy, but all his heart was set on the Army. + +"Both of you boys, then, are planning to give up your lives to +the Flag?" exclaimed Laura. + +"Yes," nodded Dick; "do you think it's foolish?" + +"I think it's glorious!" breathed Laura. + +"So do I," agreed Belle heartily; "though, like Dave, I should +think the Navy would be the more attractive." + +"Oh, the Navy is all right," gibed Dick. "It would never suit +me, though. You see, a fellow in the Navy has nothing to do but +ride into a fight on board a first-class ship. It's too much +like being a Cook's tourist war time. Now, any Army officer, +or a private soldier, for that matter, has to depend upon his +own physical exertions to get him into the fight." + +"And an Army fellow," twitted Dave, "if he finds the fight too +hard for him, can always dig a hole and hide in it. But where +can a naval officer hide?" + +"Oh, he has it easy enough, anyway, hiding behind armor plate," +scoffed Dick. + +"Of one thing I feel certain, anyway," said Laura thoughtfully. +"You are both of you cut out for the military life. Under the +most fearful conditions I don't believe either one of you would +ever show the white feather." + +"I don't know," replied Dick gravely. "Neither one of us has +ever been tested sufficiently. But I hope you're right, Laura. +I'd sooner be dead, at this instant, than to feel that my cowardice +would ever throw the slightest stain on the grand old Flag. I +try to be generous in my opinions of others. I think I can stand +almost any man except---the coward!" + +"I'm not a bit afraid of either one of you, on that score," broke +in Belle warmly. + +"That's very kind of you," nodded Dave. "But of course you don't +know any more about our bravery than we do ourselves. It has +never been proven." + +"How many young men have been killed in football this year?" asked +Laura quietly. + +"I think the paper stated, the other day, that it was something +more than forty," replied Dick. + +"Well, don't you two play football," demanded Laura. "Don't you +both jump into the crush as fearlessly as anyone, Doesn't it take +about as much nerve to play fast and furious football as it does +to fight on the battlefields Isn't football, in its hardest form, +a great training for the soldiers" + +"Oh, perhaps," laughed Dick. "For that matter, Laura, I believe +you could soon talk me into believing that I'm braver than good +old Phil Sheridan!" + +"Hullo," muttered Dave suddenly. "What-----" + +"Where's the crowd rushing!" demanded Belle, in the same breath. + +"There's some trouble down the street!" cried Darrin. "And smoke, +too." + +"It's a fire!" cried Dick, wheeling about. "Come along---all!" + +As the girls started to scurry down the street Dick caught Laura's +nearer arm to aid her. Dave did as much for Belle. + +These four young people were among the first hundred and fifty +to gather on the sidewalk before a store and office building that +was on fire. + +It was a five story building. Fire had started in back on the +second floor. Originating in offices empty at the time, the blaze +had gained good headway ere it was discovered. It had eaten up +to the third and fourth floors, and was now sweeping frontward. +On the third floor the heat had cracked the window glass, and +the air, rushing in, had fanned up a brisk blaze. Flames were +beginning to shoot out their fiery tongues through these third +story windows. + +"Is everyone out of that building?" demanded the policeman on +the beat, rushing up. He had just learned that a citizen had +gone to ring in the fire alarm, so now the policeman's next thought +was directed toward life saving. + +There was a quick count of those who had been in the offices on +the upper floors. + +On the fourth floor one suite of offices had been occupied as +a china painting school. Miss Trent, the teacher, who had reached +the sidewalk safely, now looked about her anxiously. + +"I had only one pupil up there, Miss Grace Dodge," replied Miss +Trent, hurriedly. "I called to her and then ran. Miss Dodge +started after me, then rushed back to get her purse, palette and +color case." + +"Has anyone seen Miss Dodge?" demanded the policeman. + +No one had. + +"Then I'll get up there, if I can," muttered the officer. + +Dropping belt and club to the sidewalk, and pulling his helmet +down tight on his head, the policeman darted into the building +and up the stairs. + +At that moment, above the smoke and flames pouring out of the +third story windows, Grace Dodge appeared at one of the windows +on the fourth floor. She was hatless, and a streak of blood appeared +over her left temple. + +"Don't jump!" shouted several men loudly. "A policeman has just +started up to get you." + +Miss Dodge appeared somewhat dazed; it was a question whether +she understood. But her face disappeared from the window way. +To many of the horrified ones below, it appeared as though the +imperiled girl had swayed dizzily away from the window, as though +overcome by the heat and fumes from the windows below her. + +"Where is the fire department? Is it never coming?" wailed one +woman in the throng, wringing her hands. + +No one here knew that the citizen who had rushed to send in the +alarm had found the first box out of order. He was now rushing +to another alarm box. + +Out of the hallway came the policeman, white-faced and tottering +weakly. + +"I---I couldn't get up much above the second floor," he gasped, +in a voice out of which the strength was gone. "I---I guess +the---heat and smoke got me! But---some one---must try!" + +Where was that fire department? + +Dick, staring over the crowd, found that all of his chums had +arrived. + +"Come on, fellows!" he yelled. "We've got to do something. Follow +me!" + +Prescott, after one swift glance at the buildings, made a dash +for the door of the one just to the right of the blazing pile. +Into the stairway entrance he dashed, followed by Dave Darrin, +by Tom Reade, Greg Holmes, Dan Dalzell and Harry Hazelton. + +"Hurrah!" yelled some one, in infectious enthusiasm. "Dick & +Co. to the rescue!" + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +IN THE LINE OF DARING + + +That became instantly the cry: + +"Dick & Co. to the rescue!" + +Yet none of the sextette heard it. + +They were all inside, at the first step of their projected deed of +bravery. + +"All of you but Dave run through the offices!" yelled Dick. "Some +of the tenants must have fire-rope coils. Grab the first rope +you can find and bring it to me on the roof. Hustle! Dave, you +follow me!" + +Even to boys daily grilled on the football gridiron it was no +mere matter of sport to dart up five flights of stairs at fast +speed. + +Dick Prescott was panting as he reached the roof and threw open +the skylight door. + +But he got out on the roof, hurrying across it, doing his best, +at the same time, to gulp in chestfuls of fresh air. + +Then he came to the edge of the roof next to the burning building. + +The roof of that other building was about fifteen feet below the +Roof on which Dick Prescott stood. + +After an instant of swift calculation young Prescott jumped. + +He landed, below, on the balls of his feet, though the next instant +the momentum of the fall carried him forward onto his hands. + +In another twinkling Prescott was up, running toward the front +edge of the building. + +He stopped at the skylight door, but discovered that the flames +and smoke below shut off hope there. So he continued to the front +of the roof. + +Here Dick glanced back, for a second, to make sure that Dave +had followed safely. + +Darrin was on his feet, and waved his hand reassuringly. + +Then Dick Prescott leaned out, peering down at the front of the +burning building. + +"There's Prescott!" shouted some of the most enthusiastic watchers. + +"Hurrah. Old Gridley High School!" + +But Dick paid no heed to the crowd. He was trying to locate the +window at which Grace Dodge had appeared, and was trying to contrive +how he would use a rope when one came. + +In the meantime Darrin, having jumped to the lower roof, remained +where he had dropped, awaiting the arrival of the other fellows +with a rope. + +After a few moments they came. Reade had a coil of inch rope, +which he waved enthusiastically. + +"Wait until we get the rope uncoiled," called Greg. "Then we'll +lower some of us down to join you" + +"Lower---nothing! Jump!" yelled Dave, in a stentorian quarter-deck +voice. + +Greg obeyed, instanter. Tom flung the coil of rope below, then +followed it. Hazelton and Dalzell, an instant later, were with +their comrades. + +"Come on, now," ordered Darrin, who had snatched up the coil of +rope and was darting over the roof. "Dick's waiting for us." + +Prescott, still looking below, heard the swish of ropes on the +roof as Dave uncoiled and threw the lengths out. + +"Good!" yelled Dick, looking back. "Tom, you take a turn or two +of the rope around that chimney, for anchor. Dave, you stand +here at the roof edge to pay out the rope. Greg, you and Dan +get in behind Dave to help on the hoist. See, Dave! That third +window from the end--- there's where the rope wants to go." + +"You going down the rope?" queried Darrin dryly. + +"Yes." + +"Wait, then, and I'll tie some knots in it." + +"No time for that," vetoed Dick sharply. + +"I'll have to take my chances. Miss Dodge may be smothering, +or burning. Pay it out---fast!" + +Dick watched until he saw that the rope had gone low enough, and +that it hung before the right window. + +"Now, brace yourselves, fellows!" he called, between his hands, +for the roar of the flames and the crackling of timbers made some +sort of trumpet necessary, even at short range. + +On his knees, his back to the street, at the edge of the roof, +Dick Prescott seized the rope. + +Then, with a fervent inward prayer, he started over the edge, and +hung in the air, eighty feet from the ground. + +Down below, the ever-increasing crowd let out a cyclonic, roaring +cheer. It was a foolish thing to do, for it might have rattled +the young football player. But Prescott paid no attention to +the racket, and kept on lowering himself, coolly. + +Here was where his gym. training and all his football practice came in +splendidly. Every muscle was strong, every nerve true to its +duty! + +Not once did Prescott fear that he would lose his grip and fall to +the street below. + +Up above, at the roof's edge, stood Darrin, directing as though +from quarter-deck or military-top. Dave had to lean rather far +out, at that great height, but it did not make him dizzy. + +"There! The grand old chap has landed on the window-sill! +He has gone inside!" cried Dave, turning to his comrades. "Now +we can wait until we feel a signal-pull on the rope." + +As he turned away from the smoke that was coming up through the +air Darrin realized how much smoke he had inhaled. He thumped +his chest lightly, taking deep breaths. + +Dick was in the studio now. + +Close to the window, where the draught was strongest, Prescott +found the smoke so thick that he had to grope his way through +it; but bending low, he quickly came to where Grace Dodge lay +unconscious on the floor. + +She looked lifeless, as she lay there. + +"Whew! I'm afraid she's a goner, already!" thought Dick, with +a great surge of compassion. + +However, seizing the unconscious girl by the shoulders he dragged +her swiftly over the floor to the window through which he had come. + +The rope still dangled there. + +Seizing it, Dick gave it a gentle pull---not too hard, for fear +the jerk might catch good old Dave of his guard and yank him over +the roof's edge. + +In another instant Darrin was "back on the job," peering down. + +Dick made a signal that Dave understood perfectly. + +Prescott's next care was to knot his end of the rope swiftly around +Grace's body, above the waist, adjusting the coils so that considerable +of the strain would come under the shoulders, where it could best +be borne. + +Once more Dick leaned out of the window, making motions. Dave +Darrin nodded. The fascinated crowd in the street looked up, +breathless. Few now even thought to wonder why the fire department +did not appear. + +At Dave's command the others on the roof with him began to hoist. +Slowly, Dick aided Grace's body through the window. Then the +girl, motionless, so far as she herself was concerned, swung in +the air, slowly ascending. + +Now groans of horror went up from the street. It seemed to the +onlookers below as though a dead body were being hoisted. + +Dick had made a loose hitch of the end of the rope so that it +bound the girl's skirt about her ankles. + +As he watched, he saw the swinging body steady at the roof edge. +Then Grace disappeared from his sight as Dave and the others +hauled her to momentary safety. + +"Ugh!" gasped young Prescott. The smoke and the hot air, filling +his lungs, drove him back from the open window to a spot where +the draught was less intense. + +After a few moments he heard something clattering against the +window frame. + +"What is it?" wondered Dick, dreamily, for his senses were leaving +him. + +Rousing himself, by a supreme effort of the will, the young football +player staggered toward the window. It was the rope, which Dave +had lowered for him. And thoughtful Darrin had swiftly knotted +a strong slip-noose at the end. + +Dick had just strength and consciousness enough left to slip this +noose over his head and down under his armpits, drawing the noose +tight. Then---so fast was the hot air and smoke overcoming him +that he had to fight for it!---Dick forced his way to the sill +and gave a hard tug at the rope. Then he reeled, falling back +senseless upon the floor. + +In that same instant, not far behind him, the flames burst through +the flooring. + +There must be some quick work, now, or Dick Prescott would meet +a hero's death at seventeen! + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +THE PRICE OF BRAVERY + + +Dave Darrin did not falter in his duty for an instant. + +He had been waiting for that tug on the rope. + +Now he leaned out, and as far over as was possible without pitching +himself headlong into the street below. + +"Dick! Oh, Dick!" he roared. + +There was, of course, no answer, for young Prescott day senseless +on the floor, smoke and hot air filling his lungs, the creeping +flames threatening to pounce upon and devour him. + +Wondering, Dave gave a slight signal tug himself at the rope. + +From below there was no answer. + +"Something uncanny has happened, down there!" muttered Darrin. + +"What's wrong?" called Reade. + +"I wish I knew," muttered Dave. "There is no further signaling." + +"Then-----" + +That was as far as Tom got with his hint at an explanation. + +"Cut it," retorted Darrin briskly. "Keep the rope steady. I'm +going down there." + +"Can you-----" + +"Yes!" blazed Dave recklessly. "Watch me. Here goes nothing!" + +As the last three words left his lips Darrin swung free over the +roof edge. + +He was going down the straining, smooth rope now, hand under hand. + +The dense crowd in the street below was quick to realize that +something new and tragic was on the cards. + +A gasp of suspense went up as Dave slowly went down. + +Many in the street uttered a silent prayer---for heroes are ever +dear to the multitude. + +Dave's task now was more dangerous than Dick's original undertaking +had been. + +The smoke was rolling up with ever increasing density. + +"I'll close one eye, and save that to see Dick with," Darrin muttered +grimly to himself. + +So, with one eye closed tightly, Dave yet knew when the instant +came to swing in and stand on the sill. + +Opening the closed eye, Darrin sought to peer into the studio. + +Such a gust of smoke came out at him that Darrin very nearly lost +his balance from dizziness. + +"I can't see a blessed thing in there," Dave muttered. So he +sprang inside. + +Now, quickly enough Dave stumbled over the prostrate figure of +his unconscious comrade. + +Fairly pouncing upon Prescott, Dave half raised that body, then +dragged it to the window. + +"Pull!" Darrin yelled up to Tom Reade, peering over the roof's edge. + +Over the roar of the fire Dave's voice did not carry well, but +his gesture was seen. + +Reade gave the command, and the hoisting commenced, while Dave, +standing at his post, though choking, and his brain reeling, swung +Dick's feet clear of the sill. + +Then the body began to go up quickly, while the crowd watched +in greater awe than ever. + +Dave Darrin leaped out upon the sill, holding a handkerchief over +his mouth and nostrils in order to protect his lungs as much as +possible. + +With the other hand Dave clutched at the window frame, for he +had a fearful dread, now that he would lose his hold, his footing +and plunge headlong into the street. + +Dick's body disappeared over the roof edge. + +After what seemed like a short age, but what was only a few moments, +Reade again showed his face, dangling the noose in his hand. + +Then he let it fall until it hung close to Darrin. + +Reade and the crowd alike watched breathlessly, while Dave Darrin, +fumbling, almost blindly, tried to slip the noose over his head +and adjust it under his shoulders. + +Once he let go of the rope, half swaying out into the street. + +A cry of terror went up from the spectators below. + +Tom Reade carefully swung the rope back again. Dave caught it. +After it had seemed as though he must fail Dave at last adjusted +the noose under his armpits. + +"All right!" bellowed Tom Reade, making a trumpet of his hands. + +Darrin answered only by a tug on the rope. Then he hung in mid +air as the hoisting began. + +At that moment a new sound cane on the air. The fire department, +with a short circuit somewhere in its wires, had at last been +notified by telephone, and the box number was pealing out on two +church bells. + +Barely were Dave's feet clear of the top of the window casing +when a draught drove the flames out. + +His shoes were almost licked by the red tongues. + +"Hurry, you hoisters!" bellowed a man in the street. + +His voice did not carry, but Tom Reade and his wearied helpers +were doing all that could be done by strong, willing hands. + +Another and longer tongue of flame leaped out through the shattered +window, and again Dave's swinging feet were all but bathed in +fire. + +"Thank heaven we've got you up here, old fellow!" panted Tom Reade +fervently, as Dave was hauled over the roof's edge, helping himself +a little. + +Dave, as soon as the noose had been slipped over his head, got +up on his feet, though he staggered a bit dizzily. + +"We must all get back up to that roof," ordered Dave, pointing +to the roof down from which they had leaped a while before. + +"We can't," retorted Reade. "We'll have to wait for the firemen +and their ladders." + +"Ladders---nothing!" retorted Dave, though his voice was weak +and husky. "We'll make our own ladders. You, Holmes, get over +against that wall. Hazelton, you beside hind Reade you climb +up onto their shoulders. Now, Dan you climb up on Reade's shoulders, +and you'll reach that roof up there!" + +Darrin's orders were quickly carried out. This trick of wall +scaling was really not difficult for football men in daily practice. +Dan's head was quickly above the gutter of the next roof. He +pulled himself over the edge. + +"Stand by to catch the rope, Dan," shouted Dave. "Throw it to +him, Tom." + +Whizz-zz! whirr-rr! That rope was over the edge and in Dan's +hands. Dalzell raced to a chimney, taking two or three turns +around and making fast. + +"Come on!" he called down. + +Harry Hazelton ascended the rope hand over hand, Reade following. +Then Greg Holmes went up. + +Dave, in the meantime, was preparing the apparently lifeless Grace +Dodge for the ascent. As he gave the signal those on the roof +above hauled away. + +Grace was soon in a position of safety. + +Then Dick, who had not, as yet, revived, was hoisted. + +"Now, we'll haul you up," called down Reade. + +"Forget it," mocked Darrin. "Toss down the rope and I'll use +my own muscles." + +So Dave joined them and stood beside them on the roof. + +"Now, we'd better make the street as soon as we can," Darrin advised. +"The one who's strongest pick up Miss Dodge, and another stand +by for relief. Two of you will have to tote Dick. I wish I could +help, but I'm afraid my strength is 'most all out." + +Dave, however, led the way. By the time that the little party +had descended two flights they were met by firemen rushing up. +After that the task of reaching the street was easy. + +As the rescuers and rescued came out upon the street the crowd, +now driven back beyond police lines, started to cheer. + +But Dave's hand, held up, acted as a silencer. Dick and Miss +Dodge were carried to a neighboring drug store for attention. + +Now the firemen tried to run up ladders to the studio floor, with +a view to fighting the flames by turning the stream on through +the windows. Flames drove them back. The on-lookers were quick +to grasp the fact that had no one acted before the arrival of +the firemen, Grace Dodge would have been lost indeed. As it was, +the fire fighters were obliged to fight the fire from the roof +of the next building. + +The office building in which the flames had started was almost +gutted before the blaze was subdued. + +An hour later Grace Dodge was placed in an automobile and carried +to her home, a physician accompanying her. + +She had revived for a brief period, but had again sunk into +unconsciousness. Whether her life could be saved was a matter +of the gravest doubt. + +And Dick? + +Young Prescott was revived soon enough, after expert assistance +had been secured. + +Yet he had swallowed more of the overheated air than had the girl. + +In the minds of the medical men there was a grave doubt as to +whether his lungs could be fully restored---or whether he would +be doomed to a spell of severe lung trouble, ending, most likely, +in death at a later day! + +Scores of people turned back from that fire with tears in their +eyes. + +They had seen this day something that they would remember all +their lives. + +"Dick and Dave were wondering whether they had courage enough +for the military service," sobbed Laura Bentley, in the privacy +of Belles room. "They have courage enough for anything!" + +Dick was up and about the next day, though he did not go to school. + +Moreover, later reports placed him out of serious danger. The +football squad was gloomy enough, however. Their star left end +man would not be in shape for the big Thanksgiving Day game. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +THE THANKSGIVING DAY GAME + + +Say, you're a great one, Prescott, to throw us down in this way," +chaffed Drayne, as Dick strolled into dressing quarters. + +"Oh, come, now!" broke in Darrin impatiently. "It's bad enough, +Drayne, to have to play side partner to you in the biggest game +in the year, without having to listen to your fat-headed criticism +of better men." + +Drayne flushed, and might have retorted, had not Wadleigh broken +in, in measured tones, yet with much significance in his voice: + +"Yes, Drayne; cut out all remarks until you've made good. Of +course you are going to make good, but talk will sound better +after deeds." + +Most of the fellows who were togging were uneasy. + +They wanted, with all their hearts, to win this day's game. First +of all, the game was needed in order to preserve their record +for unbroken victories. Then again, Filmore High School was a +team worth beating at any time and Filmore boosters had been making +free remarks about a Gridley Waterloo. + +So there was a feeling of general depression in dressing quarters. + +Dick Prescott, with his dashing, crafty, splendid, score-making +work at left end, had become a necessity to the Gridley eleven. + +"It's the toughest luck that ever happened," grumbled Hazelton, +right guard, to Holmes, right tackle. "And I don't believe Drayne +is in anything like condition, either." + +"Now, see here, you two," broke in Captain Wadleigh behind them, +as he gripped an arm of either boy, "no croaking. We can't afford +it." + +"We can't afford anything," grinned Hazelton uneasily. + +"Oh, of course, we're going to win today---Gridley simply has +to win," added Holmes hastily. + +"Yes; you two look as though you had the winning streak on," growled +Wadleigh, in a low voice. "For goodness' sake come out of your +daze!" + +"Do you think yourself that Drayne is fit?" demanded Hazelton. + +"He's the fittest man we have that can play left end," retorted +Wadleigh. + +"Knocking, are you?" demanded Drayne, coming up behind them. +"Nice fellows you are!" + +"Oh, now, see here, Drayne, no bad blood," urged Wadleigh. He +spoke authoritatively, yet coaxingly, too. "Remember, we've got +to keep all our energies for one thing today." + +"Well, I'm mighty glad you two don't play on my end of the line," +sneered Drayne, looking at Hazelton and Holmes with undisguised +hostility. + +"Cut it, Drayne. And don't you two talk back, either," warned +Wadleigh sternly. + +"Oh, acknowledge the corn, Drayne," broke in Hudson, with what +he meant for good humor. "Just say you're no good and let it +go at that." + +There was a dead silence, for an instant, broken by one unidentified +fellow, muttering in a voice that sounded like a roar in the silence: + +"Drayne? Humph!" + +"There you go! That's what all of you are saying to yourselves!" +cried Drayne angrily. "For some reason you idiots seem to think +I'm in no shape today. Hang it, I'm sorry I agreed to play. +For two cents I wouldn't play." + +"Drayne can be bought off cheaply, can't he?" remarked one of +the fellows. + +The last speaker did not intend that his voice should reach Drayne, +but it did. + +"Say, you fellows all have a grouch on, just because I'm playing +today!" quivered the victim of the remarks. "Oh, well, never +mind I'll cure your grouch, then!" + +Seating himself on a locker box, Drayne began to unfasten the +lacings of his shoes. + +"Here, man! What are you doing?" demanded Captain Wadleigh, bounding +forward angrily. + +"Curing the grouch of this bunch," retorted Drayne sulkily. + +"Man alive, there's no time to fool with your shoes now!" warned +the team captain. + +"I'm not going to need this pair," Drayne rejoined. "Street shoes +will do for me today." + +"Not on the gridiron!" + +"I'm not going on the field. I've heard enough knocking," grumbled +Drayne. + +A dozen of the fellows crowded about, consternation written in +their faces. + +Prescott was known not to be fit to play. Only the day before +Dr. Bentley had refused to pass him for the game. Hence Drayne, +even if a trifle out of condition, was still the best available +man for left end. + +"Quit your fooling, Drayne!" cried two or three at once. + +"Quit your talking," retorted Drayne, kicking off his other field +shoe. "I've done all my talking." + +Truth to tell, Drayne still intended to play, but he wanted to +teach these fellows a lesson. He intended to make them beg, from +Wadleigh down, before he would go on to the finish of his togging. +Drayne knew when he had the advantage of them. + +"Don't be a fool, Drayne," broke in Hudson hotly. + +"Or a traitor to your school," added another. + +"Be a man!" + +In Drayne's present frame of mind all these appeals served to +fan his inward fury. + +"Shut up, all of you!" he snapped. "I've listened to all the +roasting I intend to stand. I'm out of the game!" + +Several looked blankly at "Hen" Wadleigh. + +"Whom have you to put in his place?" Grayson demanded hoarsely. + +Drayne heard and it was balm to his soul. He started to pull +off his football trousers. + +Outside, the band started upon a lively gallop. The crowd began +to cheer. It started in as a Gridley cheer. Then, above everything +else, rang the Filmore yell of defiance. + +Just at this moment Coach Morton strode into the room. Almost +in a twinkling he learned of the new complication that had arisen. + +"Captain Wadleigh, who is to play in Drayne's stead" demanded +the coach rather briskly. + +"Under certain conditions," broke in Wayne, "I'll agree to play." + +"We wouldn't have you under all the conditions in the world!" +retorted Mr. Morton. "A football eleven must be an organization +of the finest discipline!" + +Drayne reddened, then went deathly white. He hadn't intended +to let the matter go this far. + +"Who is your best man for left end, captain?" insisted Mr. Morton. +"You've got to decide like a flash. Your men ought to be out +in the air now." + +There was a blank pause, while "Hen" Wadleigh looked around over +his subs. + +"Will you let me play?" + +There was a start. Every fellow in the room turned around to +stare at the speaker. + +It was Dick Prescott, who started eagerly forward, his face aglow +with eagerness. + +"You, Prescott?" cried Mr. Morton. "But only yesterday Dr. Bentley +reported that your lungs had not sufficiently recovered." + +"I know, sir," Dick laughed coolly; "but that was yesterday. + +"It would be foolhardy, my boy. If you went out on the field, +and any exceptional strain came up, you might do an injury to +your lungs." + +"Mr. Morton," replied the team's left end, very quietly, "I'm +willing to go out on the field---and do all that's in me, for +old Gridley---if it's the last act of my life." + +"Your hand, Prescott!" cried Mr. Morton, gripping the boy's palm. +"That's the right spirit of grit and loyalty. But it wouldn't +be right to let you do it. It isn't necessary, or human, to pay +a life for a game." + +"Will you let me go on the field if Dr. Bentley passes me _today_?" +queried Prescott. + +"But he won't." + +"Try him." + +Mr. Morton nodded, and some one ran out and passed the word for +Dr. Bentley, who acted as medical director in the School's athletics. + +Within two minutes the physician entered dressing quarters. + +Coach Morton stated Prescott's request. + +"Absurd," declared Dr. Bentley. + +"Will you examine me, sirs" insisted Prescott. + +With a sigh the old physician opened his satchel, taking out a +stethoscope and some other instruments. + +"Strip to the waist," he ordered tersely. + +Many eager hands stretched out to aid Dick in his task. + +In a few moments the young athlete, the upper half of his body +bared, stood before the medical examiner. For his height, weight +and age Prescott was surely a fine picture of physical strength. + +But Dr. Bentley, with the air and the preformed bias of a professional +skeptic, went all over the boy's torso, starting with a prolonged +examination of the heart action and its sounds. + +"You find the arterial pressure steady and sound, don't you," +asked Dick Prescott? + +"Hm!" muttered Dr. Bentley. "Now, take a full breath and hold it." + +Thump! thump! thump! went the doctor's forefinger against the +back of his other hand, as he explored all the regions of Dick's +chest. + +A dozen more tests followed. + +"What do you think, Doctor?" asked Mr. Morton. + +"Hm! The young man recovers with great rapidity. If he goes +into a mild game he'll stand it all right. If it turns out to +be a rough game-----" + +"Then I'll fare as badly as the rest, won't I, Doctor?" laughed +Dick. "Thank you for passing me, sir. I'll get into my togs +at once." + +"But I haven't said that I passed you." + +Dick, however, feigned not to hear this. He was rushing to his +locker, from which he began to haul the various parts of his rig. + +"Is it a crime to let young Prescott go on the field?" asked Coach +Morton anxiously. + +"No," replied Dr. Bentley hesitatingly. "It might be a greater +crime to keep him off the gridiron today. Men have been known +to die of grief." + +Probably a football player never had more assistance in togging +up for a game. Those who couldn't get in close enough to help +Dick dress growled at the others for keeping them out. + +"You seem uneasy, Coach," murmured Captain Wadleigh, aside. + +"I am." + +"I can't believe, sir, that a careful man like Dr. Bentley would +let Prescott go on at left end today, if there was good reason +why Prescott shouldn't. As we know, from the past, Dick Prescott +has wonderful powers of recuperation." + +"If Prescott should go to pieces, Captain, whom will you put forward +in his places" + +"Dalzell, sir. He's speedy, even if not as clever as Prescott +or Drayne." + +"I'm glad you've been looking ahead, Captain. Out I hope Prescott +will hold out, and suffer no injury whatever from this day's work." + +Was Dick anxious? Not the least in the world. He was care +free---jubilant. The Gridley spirit possessed him. He was going +to hold out, and the eleven was going to win its game. That was +all there was to it, or all there could be. + +In the first two or three days after his injury at the fire Dick +had traveled briefly in the dark valley of physical despair. + +To be crippled or ill, to be physically useless---the thought +filled him with horror. + +Then young Prescott had taken a good grip on himself. Out of +despair proceeded determination not to allow his lungs to go down +before the assault of smoke and furnace-like air. + +Grace Dodge was not, as yet, well on the way to recovery, but +Dick Prescott, with his strong will power, and the grit that came +of Gridley athletics, was now togging hastily to play in the great +game---though he had not, as yet, returned to school after his +disaster. + +Out near the grandstand the band crashed forth for the tenth time. +Gridley High School bannerets waved by the hundreds. Yet Filmore, +too, had her hosts of boosters here today, and their yells all +but drowned out the spirited music. + +"Here come our boys! Gridley! Gridley! Gridley! Wow-ow-ow!" + +"Hurrah!" + +Then the home boosters, who had read Drayne's name on the score +card took another look at their cards---next rubbed their eyes. + +"Prescott at left end!" yelled one frenzied booster. "Whoop!" + +Then the Gridley bannerets waved like a surging sea of color. +The band, finishing its strain, started in again, not waiting +for breath. + +"Prescott, after all, on left end!" + +Home boosters were still cheering wildly by the time that Captain +Pike, of Filmore High School, had won the toss and the teams were +lining, up. + +Silence did not fall until just the instant before the ball was +put in play. + +Drayne, with his headgear pulled down over his eyes, and skulking +out beside the grand stand, soon began to feel a savage satisfaction. + +Something must be ailing the left end man after all, for Dick +did not seem able to get through the Filmore line with his usual +brilliant tactics. + +Instead, after ten minutes of furious play, Filmore forced Gridley +to make a safety. Then again the ball was forced down toward +Gridley's goal line, and at last pushed over. + +Gridley hearts, over on the grand stand and bleacher seats, were +beating with painful rapidity. What ailed the home boys? Or +were the Filmore youths, as they themselves fondly imagined, the +gridiron stars of the school world! Filmore, like Gridley, had +a record of no defeats so far this season. + +It was a hard pill for Captain Wadleigh and his men to swallow. + +In the interval between the halves the local band played, but +the former dash was now noticeably absent from its music. + +The Gridley colors drooped. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +SULKER AND REAL MAN + + +Dave Darrin glanced covertly, though anxiously, at his chum. + +Was Dick really unfit to play? Dave wondered. + +It was not that Prescott had actually failed in any quick bit +of individual or team play that he had been signaled to perform. +But Darrin wondered if Dick could really be anything like up +to the mark. + +During the interval Captain Wadleigh went quietly among his men, +murmuring a word of counsel here and there. + +Nothing in Wadleigh's face or tone betrayed worry; intense earnestness +alone was stamped on his bearing. + +"Now, remember, fellows, don't get a spirit of defense grafted +on you," were Wadleigh's last words before the second half began. +"Remember, its to be a general assault all the time. If you +get on the defensive nothing can save us from losing." + +No sooner was the ball in motion than Gridley's line bore down +upon the enemy. So determined was the assault that Filmore found +itself obliged to give ground, stubbornly, for a while. Yet Captain +Pike's men were not made of stuff that is easily whipped. After +the first five minutes Pike's men got the ball and began to drive +it a few yards, and then a few yards more, over into Gridley's +territory. + +As the minutes slipped by the ball went nearer and nearer to Gridley's +goal line. Another touchdown must soon result. + +Twice Pike tried to throw the ball around the left end. Wadleigh, +Hudson, Darrin and Prescott, backed by quarter and left half, +presented such a stubborn block that the ball did not get another +yard clown the field in two plays. But Pike, who was a hammerer, +made a third attempt around that left end. This time he gained +but two feet, and the ball passed to Gridley. + +Of course, after having had its left wing so badly haltered Gridley +was bound to try to work the ball through Filmore's right. As +Wadleigh's signals crisped out, the Gridley players threw themselves +out for a play to right. + +Quarter received the ball, starting fiercely to the right. Left +half dashed past quarter, receiving the ball and carrying it straight +to Dick Prescott. For a moment this blind succeeded so admirably, +that even those on the grand stand did not see the ball given +to Prescott, but believed that quarter was rushing the ball over +to the right. + +Then, like a flash, the trick dawned. + +Dick Prescott had the oval, and was running with it like a whirlwind, +with Darrin and Hudson as his interference, and with quarter dashing +close behind them. + +Dick sprinted around the first Filmore man, leaving his interference +to sweep the fellows over. + +At Filmore's second attempt to tackle, Dick ducked low and escaped. +In the next instant the would-be tackler was bowled over by Darrin +and Hudson, and Dick swept on with the ball. + +By this time all the home boosters were on their feet, yelling +like so many Comanches. + +Filmore's half and full contrived a trap that caught young Prescott, +and carried him down with the ball---but this happened at Filmore's +forty-five-yard line! + +In the next play, Dave had the ball, on a short pass, but with +Dick dashing along close to his side, and Hudson on the other +flank. Before Darrin went down on the ball it had been carried +to Filmore's thirty-yard line. Then it went beyond the twenty-five-yard +line, and Gridley still carried the pigskin. + +"Dick's coming up, all right," proudly muttered Darrin to Hudson, +while the next snapback was forming. + +"It's putting nerve into all of us," rejoined Hudson. + +The pigskin was only fourteen yards from the Filmore goal line +when Captain Wadleigh's men had to see the ball go to Filmore. +Pike's men, however, failed to make good on downs, so the oval +came back into Wadleigh's possession. + +Now, the play was swift and brilliant. Dick got the ball around +the left end once, and afterwards assisted Dave to put it through +the hostile line. With the third play Dick carried the pigskin +barely across Filmore's goal line and scored a touchdown. Darrin +immediately after made a kick for goal. + +The score now stood eight to six for Filmore but only ten minutes +of playing time remained. + +"Our fellows have saved a whitewash, and that's all," reflected +Drayne. "They'd have done better with me, and I guess Wadleigh +knows it by this time." + +"Slug's the word," Pike passed around, swiftly. "No fouling, +but use your weight, dash and speed. Slam these Gridley rubes. +Hammer em!" + +"Come on, now Gridley!" rang the imploring request from the home +boosters, who were now too restless to keep to their seats. + +"Remember your record so far this season!" + +"Forceful playing, but keep cool. Use your Judgment to the last, +and put a lot of speed and doggedness behind your science," was +Wadleigh's adjuration. + +Those who followed form most close, now had their eyes on young +Prescott. + +If he went to pieces that would leave Gridley weak at what had +usually been its strongest point, especially in attack. + +And Gridley had the ball again. But what ailed Captain Wadleigh, +the boosters wondered? For he was now sending the ball to the +right wing, as if admitting that Prescott must not be worked too +hard. + +"Use Prescott!" shouted one man hoarsely. + +"Prescott! Prescott!" + +"Yah! Dot's all right. Vot you t'ink Wadleigh has ein head for' +Leafe him und Bresgott alone, and dey hand you der game a minute +in!" bawled the deep bass voice of Herr Schimmelpodt who, nearly +alone of the Gridley boosters, believed that the home team needed +no grand stand coaching. + +"But they've only eight minutes left," grumbled the man sitting +to the left of Herr Schimmelpodt. + +"Yah! Dot's all right, too," retorted the German. "Battles haf +been won in less than eight minutes. Read history!" + +In two plays Captain Wadleigh had succeeded in advancing the pigskin +less than two yards down the Filmore territory. + +But now hats were thrown up in the air, and frantic yells resounded +when it was discovered that Dick had the ball again, and that +Darrin, Hudson, Wadleigh, quarter and left half were fighting +valiantly to push him through the stubborn, panting line of Filmore +High School. + +It was a splendid fight, but a losing one. Filmore was massing all +its weight, wind and brawn, and Gridley lost the ball on downs. + +An involuntary groan went up from the Gridley spectators. + +Five and a half minutes left, and the ball in the enemy's hands! +That settled the game. + +The musicians looked at their leader, before taking the music +from their instrument racks. + +"Keep your music on," called the leader. "We of Gridley are sportsmen +enough to play the victors off the field." + +The play was quicker and snappier than ever. All the young men +on both sides were using their last reserves of strength and wind. +Pike was making a ferocious effort to get the ball back and over +Gridley's goal line. + +But Pike lost, after three plays, and Wadleigh's men again grabbed +the pigskin. + +"Barely two minutes!" groaned the Gridley spectators, watches +in hand. + +Dick was seen glancing at Wadleigh and shaking his head almost +imperceptibly. But a hundred people on the grand stand saw that +tiny shake, and, most of all, Pike took it in. + +Wadleigh, before bending low over the ball held up thumb and forefinger +of his right hand, formed in a circle, for a brief instant. That +sign meant: + +"Emergency signal code!" + +Then he bent over to snap the ball back, and the figures that +shot from quarter-back's chest carried different values from those +that any enemy could guess. + +"Eight---eleven---four---ten!" + +Then the ball went back to quarter, who started from a crouch +without straightening up. + +Gridley's whole attack seemed to swing to the right. Wadleigh, +himself, from half-facing to right, took a long step toward right +wing; then wheeled like a flash, and went plowing, onward, to the +left. + +Quarter, after the start, and ere Filmore could break through, +had passed the ball to half, who, on a wild sprint, had passed +it to Dick Prescott. + +And now Dick was racing out around Filmore's right end, backed by +a crushing interference of which Wadleigh was the center. Darrin, +with head high, was watching for every chance at legitimate +interference. Behind them all, quarter and left half pounded and +pushed. + +An instant and Dick was free and around Filmore's end. Now, he +dashed into the race of his life! + +Wadleigh sent a man sprawling. Dave's elbow did something to +Filmore's right tackle. Just what it was none of the spectators +could see. But none of the field officials interfered so it must +have been legitimate. + +After a fight and a short, brilliant run, Dick was tackled by +Filmore's fullback. + +One quivering instant---then Wadleigh and Hudson bumped that fullback +so hard that he went down, Dick wriggling safely away and bounding +toward Filmore's goal. + +With fire in their eyes, Gridley's center and left wing swept on. + +Dick Prescott was over the goal line, bending and holding the +ball down! Then, indeed, the crowd broke loose all except the +few hundreds from Filmore. + +Was it a touchdown? That was the question that all asked themselves. +It was so close to the line that many onlookers were in doubt, +and stood staring with all their eyes. + +But the ball went back for the kick, and that settled all doubts. + +Dave made the kick, and lost it---but who cared? + +A moment later and the whistle blew---the second half was over---the +game finished. + +Filmore had bitten the dust to the song of eleven to eight. + +Dick's tiny head shake had been a piece of strategy prearranged +with Wadleigh. It was a legitimate ruse, as honest as any other +piece of football strategy intended to throw the enemy "off". + +Now the band was indeed thundering out, playing in its best strain. + +All restraint thrown aside, the spectators surged over the lines +and out on the gridiron, making a rush for the heated but happy +home players. + +The record had been kept---a season without a game lost. Filmore +swallowed its chagrin and went home. + +Dick? He had helped nobly to save the game and the record, but +now he was exhausted. + +Over in dressing quarters two of the subs were rubbing him down, +while Dr. Bentley and Coach Morton stood anxiously by. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +CONCLUSION + + +After a few days Prescott was back at school. It was noted, however, +that he did not take any part in gym. work, and that he spoke +even more quietly than usual, but he kept up in his recitations. + +Youth is the period of quick recovery. That the Thanksgiving +Day game had strained the young left end there was no doubt. +Within a fortnight, however, Prescott was himself again, taking +his gym. work, and a cross-country run three times a week. + +"We ought to give Drayne the school cut," hinted Grayson. "He +behaved in an abominable way right at the beginning of the critical +game. He's a traitor." + +"Give Drayne the cut?" repeated Wadleigh, slowly, before a group +of the fellows. "Perhaps, in one way, he deserved it, but-----" + +"Well, what can you find to say for a fellow who acted like that?" +demanded Hudson, impatiently. + +"Drayne helped to win the game for us," replied Wadleigh moderately. +"Had he played Filmore would have downed us---of that I'm sure, +as I look back. Drayne's conduct put Prescott on the gridiron, +didn't it? That was what saved the score for us." + +At the time of Grace Dodge's great peril, her banker father had +been away on a business trip. It was two days later when word +was finally gotten to the startled parent. Then, by wire, Theodore +Dodge learned that Grace's condition was all right, needing only +care and time. So he did not hasten back on that account. + +When he did return to Gridley, Mr. Dodge hunted up Lawyer Ripley. + +"I must reward those boys, and handsomely," he explained to the +lawyer. "Their splendid conduct demands it." + +"I am sorry, Dodge, that you have been so long in coming to such +a conclusion," replied the lawyer, almost coldly. + +"What do you mean?" + +"Why, you still owe Prescott and Darrin that thousand dollars +offered by your family as a reward for finding you when your +misfortune happened." + +"But my son, Bert------" + +"Is the bitter enemy of young Prescott, who is one of the manliest +young fellows ever reared in Gridley." + +"But my wife has also opposed my paying the reward," argued Mr. +Dodge. "She declares that the two boys were out on a jaunt and +just stumbled upon me." + +"Your wife, like all good mothers, is much inclined to take the +part of her own son," rejoined Lawyer Ripley. "However, at the +time Prescott and Darrin found you, they were not out on a jaunt. +They were serving 'The Blade,' and I happen to know that the +young men did some remarkably good detective work in trailing +and rescuing you. They started fair and even with the police, +but they beat the police at the latter's own game. Dodge, by +every consideration of right and justice, you owe that reward +to Prescott and Darrin! If they had not found and rescued you, +you might not be here today. There is no telling what might have +happened to you had you been left helpless less in the custody +of the pair of scoundrels who had you in that shack. I repeat +that you owe that thousand dollars as fairly as you ever owed +a penny in your life" + +"Well, then, I'll pay it," assented Theodore +Dodge reluctantly, after some hesitation. "I am afraid my wife +will oppose it, however." + +"You can tell Mrs. Dodge just what I've said, or I'll tell her, +if you prefer." + +"Will you attend, Ripley, to rewarding all the boys for their +gallant conduct in rescuing my daughter." + +"Yes; if you'll leave the matter wholly in my hands, and agree +not to interfere" + +Theodore Dodge agreed to this, and Lawyer Ripley went ahead. +The legal gentleman, however had a more difficult time than he +had expected. It took a lot of argument, and more than one meeting, +to make Dick & Co. agree to accept anything whatever. + +It was at last settled, however, Mr. Ripley urging upon the young +men that they had no right to slight their own future prospects +or education by refusing to "lay by" money to which they were +honestly entitled, when it cane in the form of an earned reward +from a citizen amply able to pay the reward. + +So Dick and Dave received that thousand dollars, which, of course, +they divided evenly. + +In addition, each member of Dick & Co. received one hundred dollars +for his prompt and gallant work in rescuing Grace Dodge from death. + +Of course Bert, away at private school with Bayliss, heard all +about the rescue. It is not a matter of record, however, that +Bert ever wrote a letter thanking any member of Dick & Co. for +saving his sister. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +POSTSCRIPT + + +When the next commencement swung around Fred Ripley, who had managed +to "go straight" all through his senior year, was among those +graduated. What became of him will yet be learned by our readers +in another volume. + +There are a host of other Gridley fellows also to be accounted +for. + +Their part in the subsequent history of Gridley, and of the world +in general, will also yet be told, all in the proper place. + +"Prin.," too, may yet come in for some attention. + +Dick & Co. did not take part in basket ball nor any of the organized +winter athletics though they kept constantly in training. But +these young men realized that the High School is, first of all, +a place for academic training; so, after the football season had +ended so gloriously, they went back to their books with renewed +vigor. + +Laura and Belle, as they neared the end of their junior year, +went almost from girlhood into womanhood, as is the way with girls. + +Yet neither Miss Meade nor Miss Bentley found Dick or Dave "too +young" for their frank, girlish admiration. + +"You see, Dick, that we were quite right about you and Dave having +all the grit that goes with the highest needs of the military +profession," Laura remarked. "Your conduct at the fire shows +the stuff that would be displayed by Dick & Co. in leading a charge +in battle, if need be." + +"I guess a reasonable amount of courage, under stress, is the +possession of nearly all members of the human race," laughed young +Prescott. + +Here we shall leave our Gridley friends for a short time. We +shall meet them all again, however, in the forthcoming and final +volume of this series, which will be published under the title: + +"_The High School Captain of the Team; Or, Dick & Co. Leading +the Athletic Vanguard_." + +In this new volume we shall see more of the boys' qualities in +leadership. + +Before we meet our popular boys in high school again the reader +will find the long succession of wonderful events of their summer +vacation following their junior year in the last two volumes of +the "_High School Boys' Vacation Series_", which are published +under the titles, "_The High School Boys' Fishing Trip; Or, Dick +& Co. in the Wilderness_," and "_The High School Boys Training +Hike; Or, Making Themselves 'Hard as Nails.'_" + +These two narratives of a real vacation of real American boys +are bound to please the many friends of Dick & Co. Be sure to +read them. + +THE END + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The High School Left End, by H. Irving Hancock + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12691 *** diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9197b79 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #12691 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/12691) diff --git a/old/12691.txt b/old/12691.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ffbe8d8 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/12691.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7391 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The High School Left End, by H. Irving Hancock + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The High School Left End + Dick & Co. Grilling on the Football Gridiron + +Author: H. Irving Hancock + +Release Date: June 23, 2004 [EBook #12691] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HIGH SCHOOL LEFT END *** + + + + +Produced by Jim Ludwig + + + + +THE HIGH SCHOOL LEFT END + +or Dick & Co. Grilling on the Football Gridiron + +By H. Irving Hancock + + + +CONTENTS + +CHAPTERS + I. Sulking in the Football Camp + II. The Start of the Dodge Mystery + III. Dick Stumbles on Something + IV. The 'Soreheads' in Conclave + V. At the End of the Trail + VI. The Small Soul of a Gentleman + VII. The Football Notice Goes Up + VIII. Dick Fires Both Barrels + IX. Bayliss Gets Some Advice + X. Two Girls Turn the Laugh + XI. Does Football Teach Real Nerve + XII. Dick, Like Caesar, Refuses the Crown + XIII. Bert Dodge "Starts Something" + XIV. The "Strategy" of a School Traitor + XV. A "Fear" for the Plotter + XVI. "The Cattle Car for Yours" + XVII. Facing the "School Cut" + XVIII. "Prin." Gets in the Practice + XIX. Laura and Belle Have a Secret + XX. In the Line of Daring + XXI. The Price of Bravery + XXII. The Thanksgiving Day Game + XXIII. Sulker and Real Man + XXIV. Conclusion + + + + +CHAPTER I + +SULKING IN THE FOOTBALL CAMP + + +"Football is all at sixes and sevens, this year," muttered Dave +Darrin disconsolately. + +"I can tell you something more than that," added Tom Reade mysteriously. + +"What?" asked Dick Prescott, looking at Reade with interest, for +it was unusual for Reade to employ that tone or air. + +"Two members of the Athletics Committee have intimated to Coach +Morton that they'd rather see football passed by this year." + +"_What_?" gasped Dick. He was staring hard now. + +"Fact," nodded Tom. "At least, I believe it to be a fact." + +"There must be something wrong with that news," put in Greg Holmes +anxiously. + +"No; I think it's all straight enough," persisted Tom, shaking +his head to silence Holmes. "It came to me straight enough, though +I don't feel at liberty to tell you who told me." + +All six members of Dick & Co. were present. The scene of the +meeting was Dick Prescott's own room at his home over the bookstore +kept by his parents. The hour was about nine o'clock in the evening. +It was Friday evening of the first week of the new school year. +The fellows had dropped in to talk over the coming football +season, because the week had been one of mysterious unrest in +the football squad at Gridley High School. + +Just what the trouble was, where it lay or how it had started +was puzzling the whole High School student body. The squad was +not yet duly organized. This was never attempted until in the +second week of the school year. Yet it was always the rule that +the new seniors who, during their junior year, had made good records +on either the school eleven, or the second eleven, should form +the nucleus of the new pigskin squad. Added to these, were the +new juniors, formerly of the sophomore class, who had shown the +most general promise in athletics during the preceding school +year. + +Gridley High School aimed to lead---to be away at the top---in +all school athletics. The "Gridley spirit," which would not accept +defeat in sports, was proverbial throughout the state. + +And so, though the football squad was not yet formally organized +for training and practice, yet, up to the last few days, it had +been expected that a finer gridiron crowd than usual would present +itself for weeding, sifting and training by Coach Morton. The +latter was also one of the submasters of Gridley High School. + +Since the school year had opened, however, undercurrent news had +been rife that there would be many "soreheads," and that this +would be an "off year" in Gridley football. Just where the trouble +lay, or what the "kick" was about, was a puzzle to most members +of the student body. It was an actual mystery to Dick & Co. + +"What is all the undermining row about, anyway?" demanded Dick, +looking around at his chums. Dick was pacing the floor. Dave, +Tom and Greg Holmes were seated on the edge of the bed. Dan Dalzell +was lying back in the one armchair that the room boasted. Harry +Hazelton was standing by the door. + +"I can't make a single thing out of it all," sighed Dan. "All +I can get at is that some of the seniors and some of our class, +the juniors, are talking as though they didn't care about playing +this year. I know that Coach Morton is worried. In fact, he's +downright disheartened." + +"Surely," interjected Dick, "Mr. Morton must have an idea of what +is keeping some of the fellows back from the team?" + +"If he does know, he isn't offering any information," returned +Harry Hazelton. + +"I don't see any need for so much mystery," broke in Dave Darrin, +in disgust. + +"Well, there is a mystery about it, anyway," contended Tom Reade. + +"Then, before I'm much older, I'm going to know what that mystery +is," declared Dick. + +"You're surely the one of our crowd who ought to be put on the +trail of the mystery," proposed Dalzell, with a laugh. + +"Why?" challenged Prescott. + +"Why, you're a reporter on 'The Blade.' Now mysteries are supposed +to constitute the especial field of reporters. So, see here, +fellows, I move that we appoint Dick Prescott a committee of +one for Dick & Co., his job being to find out what ails football---to +learn just what has made football sick this year." + +"Hear! Hear!" cried some of the others. + +"Is that your unanimous wish, fellows?" asked Dick, smiling. + +"It is," the others agreed. + +"Very good, then," sighed Prescott. "At no matter what personal +cost, I will find the answer for you." + +This was all in a spirit of fun, as the chums understood. Yet +this lightly given promise was likely to involve Dick Prescott +in a good deal more than he had expected. + +Readers of the preceding volumes in this series know Dick & Co. +so well that an introduction would be superfluous. Those to +whom the pages of "The High School Freshmen" are familiar know +how Dick & Co., chums from the Central Grammar School, entered +Gridley High School in the same year. How the boys toiled through +that first year as half-despised freshmen, and how they got some +small share in school athletics, even though freshmen were not +allowed to make the school athletic teams, has been told. The +pranks of the young freshmen are now "old tales." How Dick Prescott, +with the aid of his chums, put up a hoax that fairly seared the +Board of Education out of its purpose to forbid High School football +does not need telling again. Our former readers are also familiar +with the enmity displayed by Fred Ripley, son of a wealthy lawyer, +and the boomerang plot of Ripley to disgrace Prescott and brand +the latter as a High School thief. The same readers will recall +the part played in this plot by Tip Scammon, worthless son of +the honest old High School janitor, and how Tip's evil work resulted +in his going to the penitentiary for the better part of a year. + +Readers of "_The High School Pitcher_" will recollect how, in +their sophomore year, Dick and Co. made their first real start +in High School athletics; how Dick became the star pitcher for +the nine, and how the other chums all found places on the nine, +either as star players or as "subs." In this volume also was +told the story of Fred's moral disasters under the tyranny of +Tip Scammon, Who threatened to "tell." How Dick & Co. were largely +entitled to the credit for bringing the Gridley High School nine +through a season's great record on the diamond was all told in +this second volume. Dick's good fortune in getting a position +as "space" reporter on "The Morning Blade" was also described, +and some of his adventures as reporter were told. The culmination +of Fred Ripley's scoundrelism, and his detection by his stern +old lawyer father, were narrated at length. Perhaps many of our +readers will remember, the unpopular principal of the High School, +Mr. Abner Cantwell; and the swimming episode, in which every High +School boy took part, afterwards meekly awaiting the impossible +expulsion of all the boys of the High School student body. Our +readers will recall that Mr. Cantwell had succeeded the former +principal, Dr. Thornton, whom the boys had almost idolized, and +that much of Mr. Cantwell's trouble was due to his ungovernable +temper. + +During the first two years of High School life, Dick & Co. had +become increasingly popular. True, since these six chums were +all the sons of families in very moderate circumstances, Dick +& Co. had been disliked by some of the little groups of students +who came from wealthier families, and who believed that High School +life should be rather governed by a select few representing the +move "aristocratic" families of the little city. + +Good-humored avoidance is excellent treatment to accord a snob, +and this, as far as possible, had been the plan of Dick & Co. +and of the other average boy at the High School. + +"Let us see," broke in Dick, suddenly, "who are the soreheads +in the football line?" + +"Well, Davis and Cassleigh, of the senior class, for two," replied +Dave Darrin. + +"Dodge, Fremont and Bayliss, also first classmen," suggested Reade. + +"Trenholm and Grayson, also seniors," brought in Greg Holmes. + +"Then there are Porter, Drayne and Whitney," added Dave. "They're +of this year's Juniors." + +"And Hudson and Paulson, also of our junior class," nodded Harry +Hazelton. + +Dick Prescott had rapidly written down the names. Now he was +studying the list carefully. + +"They're all good football men," sighed Dick. "All men whose +aid in the football squad is much needed." + +"Drayne is the stuck-up chap, who uses the broad 'a' in his speech, +and carries his nose up at an angle of forty-five degrees," chuckled +Dan Dalzell. "He's the fellow I mortally offended by nicknaming +him 'Sewers,' to mimic his name of 'Drayne.'" + +"That wouldn't be enough to keep him out of football," remarked +Dave quietly. + +Dick looked up suddenly from his list. + +"Fellows," he announced, "I've made one discovery." + +"Out with it!" ordered Dan. + +"Perhaps you can guess for yourselves what I have just found." + +"We can't," admitted Hazelton meekly. "Please tell us, and save +us racking our brains." + +"Well, it's curious," continued Dick slowly, "but every one of +these fellows---I believe you've given me all the names of the +'soreheads'" + +"We have," affirmed Tom Reade. + +"Well, I've just noted that every fellow on my sorehead roll of +honor belongs to one of our families of wealth in Gridley." + +Dick paused to look around him, to see how the announcement impressed +his chums. + +"Do you mean," hinted Hazelton, "that the soreheads are down on +football because they prefer automobiles?" + +"No." Dick Prescott shook his head emphatically. + +"By Jove, Dick, I believe you're right," suddenly exclaimed Dave +Darrin. + +"So you see my point, old fellow?" + +"I'm sure I do." + +"I'm going to get examined for spectacles, then," sighed Dan plaintively. +"I can't see a thing." + +"Why, you ninny," retorted Dave scornfully, "the football 'soreheads' +have been developing that classy feeling. They wear better clothes +than we do, and have more pocket money. Many of their fathers +don't work for a living. In other words, the fellows on Dick's +list belong to what they consider a privileged and aristocratic +set. They're the Gridley bluebloods---or think they are---and +they don't intend to play on any football eleven that is likely +to have Dick & Co. and a few other ordinary muckers on it." + +"Muckers?" repeated Harry Hazelton flaring up. + +"Cool down, dear chap, _do_!" urged Darrin, soothingly. "I don't +mean to imply that we really are muckers, but that's what some +of the classy group evidently consider us." + +"Why, they say that Cassleigh's grandfather was an Italian immigrant, +who spelled his name Casselli," broke in Dan Dalzell. + +"I believe it, son," nodded Dave. "Old Casselli was an immigrant +and an honest fellow. But he had the bad judgment to make some +money in the junk business, and sent his son to college. The +son, after the old immigrant died, took to spelling his name Cassleigh, +and the grandson is the prize snob of the town." + +"And Bayliss's father was indicted by the grand jury, seven or +eight years ago, for bribery in connection with a trolley franchise," +muttered Greg Holmes. + +"Also currently reported to be true, my infant," nodded Dave sagely. +"But the witnesses against the elder Bayliss skipped, and the +district attorney never brought the case to trial. Case was quashed +a year later, and so now the Baylisses belong to the Distinguished +Order of Unconvicted Boodlers. That trolley stock jumped to six +times its par value right after the case against Bayliss was dropped, +you know." + +"And, from what I've heard Mr. Pollock say at 'The Blade' office," +Dick threw in, "the fathers of one or two of the other soreheads +got their money in devious ways." + +"Why, there's Whitney's father," laughed Dan Dalzell. "Did you +ever hear how he got his start thirty years ago? Whitney's +brother-in-law got into financial difficulties, and transferred to +the elder Whitney property worth a hundred and twenty-five thousand +dollars. When the financial storm blew over the brother-in-law wanted +the property transferred back again, but the elder Whitney didn't +see it that way. The elder Whitney kept the transferred property, +and has since increased it to a half million or more." + +"Oh, well," Dick interrupted, "let us admit that some of the fellows +on the sorehead list have never been in jail, and have never been +threatened with it. But I am sure that Dave has guessed my meaning +right. The soreheads, who number a dozen of rather valuable pigskin +men, are on strike just because some of us poorer fellows are +in it." + +"What nonsense!" ejaculated Greg Holmes disgustedly. "Why, Purcell +isn't in any such crowd. Of course, Purcell's father isn't rich +beyond the dreams of avarice, but the Purcells, as far as blood +goes, are head and shoulders above the families of any of the +fellows on Dick's little list." + +"If that's really what the disagreement is over," drawled Dan, +"I see an easy way out of it." + +"Go ahead," nodded Dick. + +"Let the 'soreheads' form the Sons of Tax-payers Eleven, and we'll +organize a Sons of poor but Honest Parents Eleven. Then we'll +play them the best two out of three games for the honor of representing +Gridley High School this year." + +"Bright, but not practicable," objected Dick patiently. "The +trouble is that, if two such teams were formed and matched, neither +team, in the event of its victory, would have all of the best +gridiron stuff that the High School contains. No, no; what we +want, if possible, is some plan that will bring the whole student +body together, all differences forgotten and with the sole purpose +of getting up the best eleven that Gridley can possibly send +out against the world." + +"Well, we are willing," remarked Darrin grimly. + +"No! No, we're not," objected Hazelton fiercely. "If the snobs +don't want to play with any of us on the team, then we don't want +to play if _they_ come in." + +"Gently, gently!" urged Dick. "Think of the honor of your school +before you tie your hands up with any of your own mean, small +pride. Our whole idea must be that Gridley High School is to +go on winning, as it has always done before. For myself, I had +hoped to be on the eleven this year. Yet, if my staying off the +list will put Gridley in the winning set, I'm willing to give +up my own ambitions. I'm going to put the honor of the school +first, and myself somewhere along about fourteenth." + +"That's the only talk," approved Dave promptly. "Gridley must +have the winning football eleven." + +"Well, the whole thing is a shame," blazed Reade indignantly. + +"Oh, well, don't worry," drawled Dan Dalzell. "Keep cool, and +the whole thing will be fixed." + +"Fixed?" insisted Reade. "How? How will it be fixed?" + +"I don't know," Dan confessed, stifling a yawn behind his hand. +"Just leave the worry alone. Let Dick fix it." + +"How can you fix it?" asked Reade, turning upon their leader. + +"I don't know---yet," hesitated Prescott. But, like Dan, I believe +there's a way to be found." + +"Going?" asked Hazelton. "Well, I'll trot along, too." + +"Yes," nodded Greg. "It's a shame to stay here, hardening Dick's +mattress when he ought to be lying on it himself. It's time we +were all in bed. Good night, Dick, old fellow." + +Four of the boys were speedily gone. Darrin, however, remained +behind, though he intended to stay only a few minutes. The two +were earnestly discussing the squally football "weather" when +the elder Prescott's voice sounded from the foot of the stairs. + +"Dick?" + +"Yes, sir," answered the boy, throwing open the door and springing +to the head of the stairs. + +"Mr. Bradley, of 'The Blade,' wants to talk with you over the 'phone. +In a hurry, too, he says. + +"I'll be right there, Dad. Coming, Dave?" + +Darrin nodding, the two chums ran down the stairs to the bookstore. +Dick caught up the transmitter and answered. + +"That you, Dick?" sounded the impatient voice of News Editor Bradley. + +"This is Dick Prescott, Mr. Bradley." + +"Then, for goodness' sake, can you hustle up here?" + +"Of course I can." + +"Ask your father if you can take up a late night job for me. +Then come on the jump. My men are all out, and everything is +at odds and ends in the way of news. I can't get a single man, +and I wish I had three at this minute." + +"Dave Darrin is here. Can I bring him along?" + +"Yes; he's not a reporter---but he may be able to help. Hustle." + +"I'll be walking in through the doorway," laughed Dick, "by the +time you've hung your transmitter up. Good-bye." Ting-a-ling-ling! +"Now, Dave, get your father on the jump, and ask his leave to +go out on a late night story with me." + +Fortunately there was no delay about this. Dave received the +permission from home promptly enough. The two youngsters set +out on a run. + +What healthy boy of sixteen doesn't love to prowl late a night? +It is twenty-fold more fascinating when there's a mystery on +tap, and a newspaper behind all the curiosity. + +The longing of these sturdy chums for mystery and adventure was +swiftly to be gratified---perhaps more so than they could have +wished! + +News Editor Bradley was waiting for them in the doorway of "The +Blade" office, a frown on the journalistic face. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE START OF THE DODGE MYSTERY + + +"This is the way it always goes," jerked out Bradley, as the two +High School boys hurried into the office after him. + +"One of my men is sick, and the other two are somewhere---where, +I can't find out." + +"All" his men sounded large enough; as a matter of fact, the only +reporters "The Blade" employed were three young men on salary, +and Dick Prescott, mainly as gleaner of school news. Dick didn't +receive any salary, but was paid a dollar a column. + +"What's happening, anyway?" Dick asked coolly. + +"You know Theodore Dodge?" demanded Mr. Bradley. + +"I know him when I see him; he never talks with me," Prescott +replied. + +"Theodore Dodge is the father of a fellow in our senior class +at High School," Dave put in, adding under his breath, "and the +son is one of our football 'soreheads.'" + +"Dodge has vanished," continued Bradley. "He went out early this +morning, and hasn't been seen since. Tonight, just after dark, +a man walking by the river, up above the bend, picked up a coat +and hat on the bank. Letters in the pocket showed the coat to +be Mr. Dodge's. The finder of the coat hurried to the Dodge house, +and Mrs. Dodge hurriedly notified the police, asking Chief Coy +to keep the whole matter quiet. Jerry (Chief Coy) doesn't know +that we have a blessed word about this. But Jerry, his plain +clothes man, Hemingway, and two other officers are out on the +case. They have been on the job for nearly three hours. So far +they haven't learned a word. They can't drag the river until +daylight comes. Now, Prescott, what occurs to you as the thing +to do?" + +"I guess the only thing," replied Dick quietly, "is to find +Theodore Dodge." + +Mr. Bradley gasped. + +"Well, yes; you have the right idea, young man. But can you find +Dodge, Dick?" + +"When do you go to press?" + +"Latest at four o'clock in the morning." + +"I think I can either find Theodore Dodge, or else find where +he went to," Prescott replied, slowly. "Of course, that's brag---not +promise." + +"You get us the story---straight and in detail," cried Bradley, +eagerly, "and there'll probably be a bit extra in it for you---a +good bit, perhaps. If Dodge doesn't turn up without sensation +this is going to be our big story for a week. Dodge, you know, +is vice-president and actual head of the Second National Bank." + +"Whew!" thought Dave Darrin, to himself. "It's easy enough for +any suspicious person to imagine a story! But it might not be +the right one." + +"Some time ago," asked Dick thoughtfully, "didn't you publish +a story about some of the big amounts of insurance carried by +local rich men?" + +"Yes," nodded Bradley. + +"I think you stated that Theodore Dodge carried more than any +other citizen of Gridley." + +"Yes; he carries a quarter of a million dollars of insurance." + +"Is the insurance payable to his widow, or others---or to his +estate?" + +"I don't know," mused News Editor Bradley, a very thoughtful look +coming into his face. + +"Well, it's worth while finding out," pursued Dick. "See here, +suppose Dodge has been using the bank's funds, and found himself +in a corner that he couldn't get out of? Then, if the insurance +money goes to his widow, it would be hers, and no court could +take it from her for the benefit of his creditors. If it goes +to the estate, instead, then the insurance money, when paid over, +could be seized and applied to cover any shortage of the missing +man at the bank." + +"So that-----?" interrogated the news editor, his own eyes twinkling +shrewdly. + +"Why, in case---just in case, you understand---that Mr. Dodge +has gone and gotten himself into trouble over the bank's funds, +then it's probable that he has done one of two things. Either, +in despair he has killed himself, so that either his widow or +the bank will be protected. If the missing man didn't do away +with himself, then probably he has put up the appearance of suicide +in the hope that the officers of the law will be fooled of his +trail, and that either a wronged bank or a deserted wife might +get the insurance money. Of course, Mrs. Dodge might even be +a party to a contemplated fraud, though that's not a fair inference +against her unless something turns up to make it seem highly probable." + +"My boy," cried Mr. Bradley admiringly, "you've all the instincts +and qualities of the good newspaper man. I hope you'll take up +the work when you get through the High School. But now to business!" + +"Where do you want me to go? Where do you want me to take up +the trail? Where it started, just above the river bend? That's +out in the country, a mile and a half from here." + +"Darrin," begged the news editor, "won't you step to the 'phone +and ring up Getchel's livery stable? Ask the man in charge to +we want a horse with a little speed and a good deal of endurance." + +While Dave was busy at the wire Dick and the news editor talked +over the affair in low tones. + +"With the horse you can cover a lot of ground," suggested Bradley. +"And you're right about taking up the trail where it started. In +half an hour, if you don't strike something big, you can drive back +here on the jump for further orders. And don't forget the use of +the 'phone, if you're at a distance. Also, if you strike something, +and want to follow it further, you can have Darrin drive in with +anything that you've struck up to the minute. Hustle, both of you. +And, Darrin, we'll pay you for your trouble tonight." + +Horse and buggy were soon at the door. Dick sprang in, picking +up the reins. Dave leaped in at the other side. The horse started +away at a steady trot. + +"I hope those boys have brains enough not to go right past the +story," mused Bradley, gazing after the buggy before he went back +to his desk. "But I guess Prescott always has his head squarely +on his shoulders. He does, in school athletics, anyway. Len +Spencer is the man for this job, so of course Len had to be laid +up with a cold and fever that would make it murder to send him +out tonight." + +Horse and buggy were soon at the door. Dick sprang in, picking +up the reins. Dave leaped in at the other side. The horse started +away at a steady trot. + +"I hope those boys have brains enough not to go right past the +story," mused Bradley, gazing after the buggy before he went back +to his desk. "But I guess Prescott always has his head squarely +on his shoulders. He does, in school athletics, anyway. Len +Spencer is the man for this job, so of course Len had to be laid +up with a cold and fever that would make it murder to send him +out to-night." + +"Dick," muttered Dave excitedly, "you've simply got to make good. +This isn't simply a little paragraph to be scribbled. It's a +mystery and is going to be the sensation of the day. This is +the kind of story that full-fledged reporters on the great dailies +have to handle." + +"Yes," laughed Dick, "and those reporters never get flurried. +I'm not going to allow myself any excitement, either." + +"No, but you want to get the story---all of it." + +"Of course I do," Prescott agreed quietly. + +"If you do this in bang-up shape," Dave went on enthusiastically, +"it's likely to be the making of you!" + +"How?" queried Dick, turning around to his chum. + +"Why, success on a big story would fairly launch you in journalism. +It would provide your career as soon as you're through High School." + +"I don't want a career at the end of the High School course," +Dick returned. "I'm going further, and try to fare better in +life." + +"Wouldn't you like to be a newspaper man for good?" demanded Dave. + +"Not on a small-fry paper, anyway" replied Prescott. "Why, Bradley +is news editor, and has been in the business for years. He gets +about thirty dollars a week. I don't believe Pollock, who has +charge of the paper, gets more than forty-five. That isn't return +enough for a man who is putting in his whole life at the business." + +"Thirty dollars has the sound of pretty large money," mused Dave. +"As for forty-five, if that's what Mr. Pollock gets, look at the +comfort he lives in at his club; and he's a real estate owner, too." + +"Yes," Dick admitted. "But that's because Pollock follows two +callings. He's an editor and a dealer in real estate. As for +me, I'd rather put all my energies into one line of work." + +"Then you believe you're going to earn more money than Pollock +does?" questioned Dave, rather wonderingly. + +"If I pick out a career for income," Dick responded, "I do intend +to go in for larger returns. But I may go into another calling +where the pay doesn't so much matter." + +"Such as what?" + +"Dave, old fellow, can you keep a secret?" + +"Bosh! You know I can." + +"A big secret?" + +"Stop that!" + +"Well, I'll tell you, Dave. By and by there are going to be, +in this state, two appointments to cadetships at West Point. +Our Congressman will have one appointment. Senator Alden will +have the other. Now, in this state, appointments to West Point +are almost always thrown open to competitive examination. All +the fellows who want to go to West Point get together, at the +call, and are examined. The fellow who comes off best is passed +on to West Point to try his luck." + +"And you think you can prove that you're the brightest fellow +in the district?" laughed Dave good-humoredly. + +"There are to be two chances, and I think I can prove that I'm +one of the two brightest to apply. And Dave!" + +"Well?" + +"Why don't you go in to prove that you're the other brightest +fellow. Just think! West Point! And the Army for a life career!" + +"I think I'd rather scheme to go to the Naval Academy, and become +an officer of the Navy," returned Dave slowly. "The big battleships +appeal to me more than does the saddle of the cavalryman." + +"Go to Indianapolis?" muttered Dick, in near-disgust. "Well, +I suppose that will do well enough for a fellow who can't get +to West Point." + +"Now, see here," protested Dave good-humoredly, though warmly, +"you quit talking about Indianapolis. That's a favorite trick +with fellows who are cracked on West Point. You know, as well +as I do, that the Naval Academy is at Annapolis. There's a vacancy +ahead for Annapolis, too." + +"Oho! You've been thinking of that?" demanded Dick, again looking +into his chum's eyes. + +"Yes." + +"Yes; if I can come out best in a competitive examination of the +boys of this district." + +"Two secrets, then---yours and mine," grinned Prescott. "However, +it'll be easier for you." + +"Why?" + +"There aren't so many fellows eager to go to the Naval Academy. +It doesn't draw as hard as the Army does." + +"The dickens it doesn't!" ejaculated Dave Darrin. + +"No; the Navy doesn't catch young enthusiasm the way the Army +does. You won't have so many fellows to compete with as I shall," +said Dick. + +"I'll have twice as many---three times as many," flared Darrin. +"The Naval Academy is the only real and popular school in the +United Service." + +"Well, we won't quarrel," laughed young Prescott. "When the time +comes we'll probably find smarter young fellows ahead of us, headed +for both academies." + +"If you do fail on West Point-----?" quizzed Dave. + +"_If_ I do," declared Dick, with a very wistful emphasis on that +"if," "then, after getting through High School I'll probably try +to put in a year or two of hard work on 'The Blade,' to help my +parents put me through college. They're anxious to make me a +college man, and they'd work and save hard for it, but I wouldn't +be much good if I didn't try to earn a lot of the expense money. +One thing I'm resolved upon---I'm not going to go through life +as a half-educated man. It is becoming more true, every year, +that there's little show for the man with only the half-formed +mind." + +Then the two turned back to the subject that had brought them +out on this September night---the disappearance of Banker Theodore +Dodge. + +"In a minute or two we'll be in sight of the river bend," announced +Darrin. + +"There it is, now," nodded Dick, slowing down the horse and gazing +over yonder. "Some one is there, and looking hard for something." + +"Yes; I make out a couple of lanterns," assented Dave. "Well"---as +Dick pulled in the horse---"aren't you going to drive over there?" + +"That's what I want to think about," declared young Prescott. +"I want to go at the job the right way---the way that real newspapermen +would use." + + + + +CHAPTER III + +DICK STUMBLES ON SOMETHING + + +A few moments later Dick Prescott guided the horse down a shaded +lane. "Whoa!" he called, and got out. + +"What, now?" questioned Darrin, as his chum began to hitch the +horse to a tree. + +"I'm going to prowl over by the bend, and see who's there and +what they are doing." + +Having tied the horse, Dick turned and nodded to his friend to +walk along with him. + +"You know Bradley told us," Prescott explained, "that the police +do not know that Dodge's disappearance has leaked out to the press. +Most folks in Gridley know that I write for 'The Blade.' So I'm +in no hurry to show up among the searchers. I intend, instead, +to see what they're doing. By going quietly we can approach, +through that wood, and get close enough to see and hear without +making our presence known." + +"I understand," nodded Darrin. + +Within two or three minutes the High School reporter and his chum +had gained a point in the bushes barely one hundred and fifty +feet away from where two men and a boy, carrying between them +two lanterns, were closely examining the ground near the bank. +One of the men was Hemingway, who was a sort of detective on +the Gridley police force. The other man was a member of the uniformed +force, though just now in citizen's dress. The boy was Bert +Dodge, son of the missing banker, and one of the best football +men of the senior class of Gridley High School. + +"It's odd that we can't find where the trail leads to," the eavesdroppers +heard Hemingway mutter presently. + +"I'm afraid," replied young Dodge, with a slight choke in his +voice, "that our failure is due to the fact that water doesn't +leave any trail." + +"So you think your father drowned himself?" asked Hemingway, looking +sharply at the banker's son. + +"If he didn't, then some one must have pushed him into the river," +argued Bert, in an unsteady voice. + +"And I'm just about as much of the opinion," retorted Hemingway, +"that your father left his hat and coat here, or sent them here, +and didn't even get his feet wet." + +"That's preposterous," argued the son, half indignantly. + +"Well, there is the spot, right there, where the hat and coat +were found. Now, for a hundred feet away, either up or down stream, +the ground is soft. Yet there are no tracks such as your father +would have left had he taken to the water close to where he left +his discarded garments," argued Hemingway, swinging his lantern +about. + +"We've pretty well trodden down whatever footprints might have +been here," disputed Bert Dodge. "I shan't feel satisfied until +daylight comes and we've had a good chance to have the river +dragged." + +"Well, of course, it is possible you know of a reason that would +make your father throw himself into the river?" guessed Officer +Hemingway, with a shrewd glance at the son. + +"Neither my mother nor I know anything about my father that would +supply a reason for his suicide," retorted Bert Dodge stiffly. +"But I can't see any reason for believing anything except that +my poor dad must now be somewhere in the river." + +"We'll soon be able to do the best that we can do by night," rejoined +Hemingway. "Chief Coy has gone after a gasoline launch that carries +an electric search-light. As soon as he arrives we'll go all +over the river, throwing the light on every part of the water +in search of some further clue. There's no use, however, in trying +to do anything more around here. We may as well be quiet and +wait." + +"I can't stand still!" sounded Dodge's voice, with a ring of anguished +suspense in it. "I've got to keep hunting." + +"Go ahead, then," nodded the detective. "We would, too, if there +were anything further that could be looked into. But there isn't. +I'm going to stop and smoke until the launch heaves in sight." + +Both policemen threw themselves on the ground, produced pipes +and fell to smoking. But Bert Dodge, with the restlessness of +keen distress, continued to stumble on up and down along the +bank, flashing the lantern everywhere. + +Presently Dodge was within sixty feet of where his High School +mates crouched in hiding. + +Suddenly the livery stable horse, some four or five hundred feet +away, whinnied loudly, impatiently. + +Natural as the sound was, young Dodge, in the tense state of his +nerves, started and looked frightened. + +"Wh-what was that?" he gasped. + +"A horse," called Hemingway quietly. "Probably some critter passing +on the road." + +"I wish you'd see who's with that horse," begged young Dodge. +"It may bring us news. I'm going, anyway." + +With that, swinging the lantern, Bert Dodge started to cut across +through the woods with its fringe of bushes. + +Dave Darrin slipped away, and out of sight. Before Dick could +do so, however, young Dodge, moving at a fast sprint, was upon +him. + +Bert stopped as though shot when he caught sight of the other boy. + +"Dick Prescott?" he gasped. + +"Yes," answered Dick quietly. + +"What are you doing here?" + +"I came to see what news there is about the finding of your father." + +Hemingway had now reached the spot, with the other policeman some +yards to the rear. + +"You write for 'The Blade,' don't you?" challenged Bert. + +"Yes," Dick assented. + +"And 'The Blade' people sent you here?" cried Bert Dodge, in a +voice haughty with displeasure. + +"Perhaps 'The Blade' sent me here," Dick only half admitted. + +"Sent you here to pry into other people's affairs and secrets," +continued young Dodge impetuously. Then added, threateningly: + +"Don't you dare to print a word about this affair!" + +Dick looked quietly at young Dodge. + +"Did you hear me?" demanded Bert. + +"Yes." + +"Then what's your answer?" + +"That I heard you, Bert." + +"You young puppy!" cried Dodge, advancing threateningly. "Don't +you address me familiarly." + +"I don't care anything about addressing you at all," retorted +Prescott, flushing slightly under the insult. "At present I can +make allowances for you, for I fully understand how anxious you +are. But that is no real excuse for insulting me." + +"Are you going to heed me when I tell you to print nothing about +my father's disappearance?" insisted young Dodge. + +"That is something over which you really have no control," Dick +replied slowly, though not offensively. "I take all my orders +from my employers." + +"You young mucker!" cried Bert, in exasperation. "You print anything +about our family misfortunes, and I'll thrash you until you can't +see." + +"I won't answer that," Dick replied, "Until you make the attempt. +But, see here, Dodge, you should try to keep cool, and as close +to the line of gentlemanly speech and conduct as possible." + +"A nice one you are, to lecture me on that subject," jeered Bert +Dodge. "You---only a mucker! The son of-----" + +"Stop!" roared Dick, his face reddening. He advanced, his fists +clenched. "If you're going to say anything against my father +or mother, Bert Dodge, then stop before you say it! Before I +break your neck!" + +"Stop, both of you," interjected Hemingway, springing between +the white-faced High School boys. "No blows are going to be struck +while members of the police department are around. Dodge, of +course, you're upset and nervous, but you're not acting the way +a gentleman should, even under such circumstances." + +"Then drive that fellow away from here!" commanded Bert. + +"I can't," confessed the officer. "He is breaking no law, and +has as much right to be here as we have." + +"Oh, he objects to my saying anything against his father or mother, +but he's out tonight to throw all manner of slime on my father's +name," contended Bert Dodge. His voice broke under the stress +of his pent-up emotion. + +"You're wrong there, Dodge!" Dick broke in, forcing himself to +speak calmly. "I'm here to gather the facts on a matter of news, +but I am not out to throw any insinuations over your father, or +anyone whose good name is naturally precious to you. Sometimes +a reporter---even an amateur one---has to do things that are unpleasant, +but they're all in the line of duty." + +"'The Blade' won't print a line about this matter," raged Bert +tremulously. "Mr. Ripley is my father's friend, and his lawyer, +too. Mr. Ripley will go to your editor, and let him know what +is going to happen if that scurrilous sheet-----" + +Here Bert checked himself, for Dick had begun to smile coldly. + +"Confound you!" roared Bert Dodge. He leaped forward, intent +on striking the young junior down. But Officer Hemingway pushed +Dodge back forcefully. + +"Come, come, now, Dodge, we won't have any of that," warned the +officer. "And, if you want my opinion, you're not playing the +part of a gentleman just now. Prescott understands your state +of mind, however. He knows you're so upset, your mind so unhinged +by the family trouble that you're doing and saying things that +you'll be ashamed of by daylight." + +"I suppose, next, you'll be inviting this reported fellow to go +on the boat with us when it comes," sneered Bert Dodge. + +"That would be for the chief to say. Reporters are, usually, +allowed to go with the police. Come, come, Dodge," urged Hemingway, +laying a kindly hand on the young man's shoulder, "calm down and +understand that Prescott is not offering to make any trouble, +and that he has been very patient with a young fellow who finds +himself in a heap of trouble." + +"I can cut this short," offered Dick quietly. "I don't believe +it would be worth my while, Mr. Hemingway, to ask the chief's +permission to go on the boat with you. 'The Blade' can find out, +later, whether you discover anything on the river." + +"Where are you going, now?" demanded Bert unreasonably, as Prescott +turned away. + +"Back to the horse and buggy," Dick replied coolly. + +"Then I'm going with you, and see you start back to town," asserted +Bert Dodge. + +Hemingway did not interfere, but, leaving his brother policeman +at the river's edge, accompanied young Dodge. In a few minutes +they arrived at the spot in the lane where Dick had tied the horse. +Here they found Dave Darrin seated in the buggy. Dave glanced +unconcernedly at them all, nodding to Hemingway way, who returned +the salutation. + +"Now, I'll watch you start away from here," snapped Bert. + +"All right, then," smiled Dick, climbing in, after unhitching, +and picking up the reins. "I won't keep you long." + +With that, and a parting word to the policeman, Dick Prescott +drove away. + +"I saw Hemingway coming, and knew you wouldn't need me," Dave +explained with a laugh. "So, to save Bert a double attack of +nerves, I slipped off in the darkness, and came here. But what +on earth ails Dodge, anyway?" + +"Why, for one thing, he's worried to death about the disappearance +of his father," replied Dick Prescott. + +"I've seen people awfully worried before, and yet it didn't make +madmen of them," snorted Darrin. + +"Well---perhaps-----" + +Dick hesitated. + +"Well----?" Darrin insisted, rather impatiently. + +"I'm half inclined to think that Bert Dodge has been leading the +soreheads who sulk and won't play football in the same team with +some of us common fellows," Dick laughed. "If so, the very fact +of my being sent to look into the news side of his father's disappearance +would make Bert feel especially sore at me." + +"By George, you've hit the nail right on the head there," cried +Dave. "That's the trouble. Bert has been leading a kick that +was aimed very largely at Dick & Co., and now it almost puts him +out of his head to find that Dick Prescott, of all the fellows +in the school, has been sent by 'The Blade' to gather the facts +concerning Theodore Dodge's mysterious disappearance---or death." + +"Mr. Dodge isn't dead," replied Prescott slowly. + +"What? And say! Do you realize, Dick, that you're letting the +horse walk?" + +"I intended to," returned Dick. "Whoa!" + +"There's a boat coming up the river and showing a search-light," +broke in Dave, pointing. + +"I saw it. That's why I stopped the horse. It must be Chief +Coy's launch that he went after. Yes; there it is, putting in +where we first saw Bert Dodge and the officers." + +"Well, if you're not going to keep track of the launch, why don't +you hit a fast gait for the office?" queried Darrin. + +"There is plenty of time yet," Dick replied, "and we've nothing +to report to the office yet. I'm just waiting for that boat +to take on its passengers and get well away from the spot." + +"Oh!" guessed Dave. "Then you're going back and make your own +search of the place?" + +"You're clever," nodded Prescott, with a low laugh. "Yes; it +may be that Hemingway and his companion have made a fine search. +Or it may be that they've missed clues that a blind man ought +to see." + +So the two High School boys sat there, in the buggy drawn up at +the side of the road, for the next fifteen minutes. In that time +the launch took on the waiting passengers, and the light played +over all that part of the river, then started down stream. + +Dick slowly headed the horse about, this time driving much closer +to the river's bank than he had done before. + +"There's a lantern under the seat, Dave. I saw it when we started +from 'The Blade' office. Haul it out and light it, will you?" + +For some minutes the two High School boys searched without much +result. At last Dick and Dave began to move in wider circles, +away from the much-tramped ground. Then, holding the lantern +close to the ground, Prescott moved nearer and nearer to the railway +track, all the while scanning the soil closely. + +"Look there, Dave!" suddenly called Prescott. "No-----Don't look +just yet," he added, holding the lantern behind him. "But tell +me; you've often seen Mr. Dodge. What kind of boots did he wear?" + +"Narrow, pointed shoes, and rather high heeled for a man to wear," +Darrin answered. + +"Exactly," nodded Dick. "Look there!" + +Darrin bent down over a soft spot in the soil close to the railway +roadbed. There were three prints of just such a boot as he had +described. + +"You see the small heel print," continued Prescott, in a whisper. +"And you note that the front part of the foot makes a heavy impression, +as it would when the foot is tilted forward by a high heel." + +"I don't believe another man in the town ever wore a pair of boots +such as made these prints," murmured Darrin excitedly. "And they're +headed away from the river, toward the railroad! And look here---other +footprints of a different kind!" + +"You're right!" cried Prescott, holding the lantern closer to +the ground and scanning some additional marks in the soil. "Coarse +shoes; one pair of 'em brogans! Mr. Dodge had companions when +he went away from here." + +"They may have been forcing the man somewhere with them," quivered +Darrin, staring off into the black night about them. + +"No; not a sign of a struggle," argued Dick, still with his gaze +on the ground. "No matter who Mr. Dodge's companions were, he +went with them willingly. Gracious, Dave, but we were right in +believing the banker to be still alive! Coat and hat at the water's +edge were a blind! Mr. Dodge has his own reasons for wanting +people to think him dead. He has sloped away. Here's the track. +Which way did he and the fellows go?" + +"Away from Gridley," declared Darrin, sagely. "Otherwise, Mr. +Dodge would have been seen by some one who would remember him." + +"We'll go up along the track, then." + +This they did, but the roadbed was hard. Besides, anyone walking +on the ties would leave no trail. It was slow work, holding the +lantern close to the ground and scanning every step, besides swinging +the lantern out to light up either side of their course. Yet +both lads were so tremendously interested that they pushed on, +heedless of the flight of time. + +They had gone a mile or more up the track, "inching" it along, +when they came upon an unmistakable print of Mr. Dodge's oddly +pointed boot and narrow, high heel. They found, too, the print +of a brogan within six feet of the same point. + +"This is the way Dodge and his queer companions came," exulted +Dave. + +"But I don't believe they followed the track much further," argued +Prescott, pointing ahead at the signal lights of a small crossing +station. "If Mr. Dodge were trying to get away from public gaze +he wouldn't go by a station where usually half a dozen loungers +are smoking and talking with the station agent." + +"We're lucky to have the trail this far," observed Dave Darrin. +"But we can't follow it accurately at night. Say---gracious! +Do you know what time it is? Half-past one in the morning!" + +"Wow?" ejaculated Prescott, halting and looking dismayed. "It'll +take us a good many minutes to get back to where we left the horse. +It'll be after two o'clock when we hit 'The Blade' office. Dave, +we simply can't follow the trail further tonight. But we must +strike it first thing in the morning. It'll be a big thing for +'The Blade' to be the folks to find the missing banker and clear +the mystery up." + +"Unless Dodge just kept on until he came to one of the stations, +and took a train. Then the trail would be a long one." + +"He didn't take a train tonight," returned Prescott, shaking his +head. "If he wanted to disappear that would be the wrong way +to go about it. He'd be recognized from the descriptions that +will go about broadcast. No, sir! Mr. Dodge must be hiding in +some of the big stretches of woods over yonder. A regiment could +hide and be lost in the great woods." + +"It's a trail I hate to leave," muttered Dave Darrin. + +"But we've got to wait until daylight. We can't do much in the +dark, anyway. I've got to get back to 'The Blade' office. Get +your bearings here, Dave. To make doubly sure I'll cut a slice +out of this tie to mark the place where we found this print, for +it may be indistinct by daylight." + +Marking the location Dick Prescott wheeled and began to hurry +back, followed by Darrin. In due time they reached the buggy, +took the light blanket from the horse, unhitched and jumped in. +Fast driving took them to "The Blade" office. + +"You didn't learn anything, did you?" questioned Bradley. + +"Yes; we did," Dick informed him. "The police, with their launch +didn't get any trace of Mr. Dodge, did they?" + +"No," admitted the news editor. "I've talked with Hemingway within +the last hour. The police will begin dragging the river by daylight." + +"They won't find the banker that way," chuckled Dick. "He's alive." + +"Have you seen him?" demanded the news editor. + +"No; and I'm not going to say too much now, either," returned +Dick, with unusual stubbornness. "But 'The Blade' wants to take +the keynote that Theodore Dodge is alive, and will turn up. I +believe Dave and I are going to make him turn up during the next +spell of daylight." + +"We surely are!" laughed Darrin. + +Mr. Bradley pressed them close with questions, but neither boy +was inclined to reveal the secret of the trail along the railway +roadbed. + +"We're going to keep it all as our own scoop," Dick insisted. +"And please, Mr. Bradley, don't post the police about our idea. +If you do, the police will get the credit. If we keep quiet, +'The Blade' will get all the credit that is coming." + +The news editor laid before Dick all the proofs and copy that +had been prepared so far on the absorbing mystery of the night. +Prescott made some newsy additions to the story, and through +it all took the confident keynote that the vanished banker would +soon be heard from in the flesh. + +The work done, and Bradley having already seen to the return of +the horse to the livery stable, Dick and Dave went into an unused +room, where they threw themselves down on piles of old papers. +Tired out, they slept without stirring. But they had left a +note for the office boy who was due at six o'clock to sweep out +the business office. + +That office boy came in and called the High School pair at a few +minutes after six. Dick's first thought was to instruct the boy +to telephone the Prescott and Darrin homes at seven in the morning, +sending word that the two boys were safe but busy. Then Dick +hastily led the way to a quick-order restaurant near by. Here +the boys got through with breakfast as quickly as they could. +That done, they bought sandwiches, which they put into their +pockets. + +As they came out of the eating house the streets were still far +from crowded. Laborers were going to their toil, but it was yet +too early for the business men of the city to be on their way +to offices, or clerks to the stores. + +"Now, let's get out of the town in a jiffy," proposed Dick. "We +don't want to have many folks observing which way we go. We'll +travel fast right up along the railway track." + +Once started, the two boys kept going briskly. Both had been +drowsy at the outset, but the impulse of discovery had them in +its grip now, and fatigue was quickly forgotten. + +Something more than half an hour after the start the boys halted +beside the tie that Prescott had whittled in the dark a few hours +before. + +"There are the footprints," quivered Dave, staring hard. + +"They're not as distinct as they were a few hours ago," replied +Dick. "Still, I think we can follow them. I'm glad they lead +toward the woods." + +"Yes," Darrin agreed. "The direction of the footprints shows +that Mr. Dodge and his companions didn't have any notion of boarding +a train and getting out of this part of the world." + +Yet, though both of these young newspaper hounds were keen to +follow the trail, they did not find it any easy matter. Dick +and Dave reached the edge of the woods. Then, for a short time, +they were obliged to explore carefully ere they came again upon +one of the bootmarks of fastidious Banker Dodge. It was a hundred +feet further on, in a bit of soft mould, that the next bootprint +was found. Had these two High School boys been more expert trackers +they would have found a fairly continuous trail, but their untrained +eyes lacked the ability to see other signs that would have been +evident to a plainsman. + +So their progress was slow, indeed. They could judge only by +the direction in which each last footprint was pointed, and they +had to remember that one wandering through the woods might travel +over a course whose direction frequently changed. + +"Dave," whispered Prescott, "I think we had better separate a +little. We might go along about a hundred feet apart. In that +way there is more chance that we'll come sooner upon the next +print." + +There were perhaps six hundred feet into the woods, by this time, +and stood looking down at the fifth footmark they had found. + +"All right," nodded Darrin. "We're a pair of rank amateurs at +this kind of work, anyway." + +"Amateurs or not," murmured Dick, with a smile? "we seem to be +the only folks in Gridley who are on the right track in this mystery +at present." + +"I'm full of misgivings, anyway," muttered Dave. + +"Why?" + +"I can't help feeling that we should have turned our news over +to Chief Coy or Hemingway. + +"Again, why?" + +"Well, if we lose our man now, we'll soon feel that we ought to +have turned the whole thing over to the police while the trail +was fresh." + +"Dave, don't you know, well enough, that newspapers do more than +the police, nowadays, in clearing up mysteries?" + +"This may be more than a mystery," hinted Dave. "Even if we get +through to the end of this trail---or mystery we may find a crime +at that end." + +"All the more need, then, for moving on fast. See here, Dave, +I'll follow just the way this footprint points. You get out a +hundred feet or so to the right. And we'll move as fast as we +can, now." + +The wisdom of this plan was soon apparent, for it was Dave Darrin +who discovered the next footprint. He summoned Dick Prescott +with a sharp hiss. + +"Yes; all right," nodded Dick, joining his comrade and gazing +down at one of the narrow bootmarks. "But don't send a long signal +again, Dave. We might be close, and warn some one out of our +way." + +"What shall we do, then?" + +"We'll look frequently at each other, and the fellow who discovers +anything will make signs to the other." + +Three minutes later Dick Prescott crouched low behind a line of +bushes, his eyes glistening as he peered and listened. Then he +began to make wildly energetic signals to Dave Darrin. + +The head partner of Dick & Co. had fallen upon something that +interested him---tremendously! + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE "SOREHEADS" IN CONCLAVE + + +Dave Darrin came stealing over, as soft-footed as any panther. + +Dick did not turn around to look at his chum. He merely held +up a cautioning hand, and Darrin moved even more stealthily. + +In another moment Dave's head was close to his chum's, and both +young men were gazing upon the same scene. + +"Davis and Fremont-----" whispered Darrin in his chum's ear. + +"Bayliss, Porter and Drayne," Dick nodded back, softly. + +"Trenhold, Grayson, Hudson," continued Darrin. + +"All the 'soreheads,'" finished Dick Prescott for him. + +"Or nearly all," supplemented Dave. + +Indeed, the scene upon which these two High School boys gazed +was one that greatly interested them. + +On a little knoll, just beyond the line of bushes, and on lower +ground, fully a dozen young men lounged, basking in the morning +sun, which poured through upon this small, treeless space. + +Though the young men down in the knoll were not carefully attired, +there was a general similarity in their dress. All wore sweaters, +and nearly all of them wore cross-country shoes. Evidently the +whole party had been out for a cross country run. + +Now, the dozen or so were eagerly engaged in conversation. + +"It's too bad Purcell won't join us," remarked Davis. + +"Yes," nodded another fellow in the group; "he belongs with us." + +"Oh, well," spoke up Bayliss, "if Purcell would rather be with +the muckers, let him." + +"Now, let's not be too rank, fellows," objected Hudson slowly. +"I wouldn't call all the fellows muckers who don't happen to +belong in our crowd." + +"What would you call 'em then?" growled Bayliss angrily. "Time +was when only the fellows of the better families expected to go +to High School, on their way to college. Now, every day-laborer's +son seems to think he ought to go to High School-----" + +"And be received with open arms, on a footing of equality," sneered +Porter. + +"It's becoming disgusting," muttered Bayliss. "Not only do these +cheap fellows expect to go to the High School, but they actually +want to run the school affairs." + +"I suppose that's natural, to some extent," speculated Porter. + +"Why?" demanded Bayliss, turning upon the last speaker in amazement. + +"Why, the sons of the poorer families are in a majority, nowadays," +returned Hudson. + +"Say, you're getting almost as bad as Purcell," warned Porter. + +"If I am, I apologize, of course," responded Hudson. + +"I've no real objection to the sons of poorer men coming to the +High School," vouchsafed Paulson, meditatively. "But you know +the cream, the finer class of the High School student body, has +always centered in the school's athletic teams. And now-----" + +"Yes; and now-----" broke in Bayliss harshly. + +"Why, these fellows, who are not much more than tolerated in the +High School, or ought not to be, make the most noise at the meets +of the training squads," continued Paulson. + +"And some of 'em," growled Fremont, "actually have the cheek to +carry off honors in scholarship, too. Take Dick Prescott, for +instance." + +"Oh, let the muckers have the scholarship honors, if that's all +they want," retorted Bayliss "A gentleman hasn't much need of +scholarship, anyway, if he's an all-around, proper fellow in every +other respect. But the, gang that call themselves Dick & Co. +are a fair sample of the muckers that we have to contend with." + +"No," objected Fremont; "they're the very worst of the lot in +the High School. Why, look at the advertising those fellows get +for themselves. And not one of them of good family." + +"Fellows of good, prominent families don't have to advertise themselves," +observed Bayliss sagely. + +It was plain that by "good" family was meant one of wealth. These +young men had little else in the way of a standard. + +"It makes me cranky," observed Whitney, "to see the way a lot +of the girls seem to notice just such fellows as Prescott, Darrin, +Reade, Dalzell---fellows who, by rights, ought to be through with +their schooling and earning wages as respectful grocery clerks +or decent shoe salesmen." + +"But this talk isn't carrying us anywhere," objected Bayliss. +"The question is, what are we going to do with the football problem +this year? We don't want to play in the same eleven with the +cheap muckers, and have 'em think they're the whole eleven. The +call for the football training squad is due to go up some time +next week." + +"Bert Dodge says-----" interrupted Paulson. + +"Yes, Dodge is the fellow I wish we had here with us today," interposed +Bayliss. "Dodge is the one we ought to listen to." + +"Poor Dodge has his own troubles today," murmured Hudson. + +"Yes; I know---poor fellow," nodded Bayliss. "I wish we fellows +could help him, but we can't." + +"I was talking with Dodge yesterday, before his own troubles broke +loose," went on Hudson. "Dodge's idea is that we ought all to +keep away when the football squad is called. Then Coach Morton +may get an idea of how things are going, and he may see just what +he ought to do." + +"But suppose the muckers all answer the call in force?" inquired +Trenholm. "What are we to do then?" + +"We're to keep out of the squad this year," responded Bayliss +promptly. "See here, either we fellows organize the Gridley High +School eleven ourselves, and decide who shall play in it, or else +we stay out and let the muckers go ahead and pile up a record +of lost games this year." + +"That's hard on good old Gridley High School," murmured Hudson. + +"True," agreed Fremont. "But it'll teach the town, the school +authorities, the coach and after this year, that only the prominent +fellows in the school should have any voice in athletics. Let +the muckers be content with standing behind the side lines and +rooting for the real High School crowd." + +"Shall we put it to a vote?" asked Bayliss, looking about him. + +"Yes!" answered several promptly. + +"Then, as I understand it," continued Bayliss, "when the football +call goes up, we're all to ignore it. We're to continue to ignore +the call, and keep out of the school football squad this year, +unless the coach and the Athletics Committee agree that we shall +have the naming of the candidates. Is that the general agreement +among ourselves?" + +"Yes!" came the chorus. + +"Any contrary votes?" + +Momentary silence reigned in this conclave of "soreheads." + +"Yet," continued Bayliss, "we've started training among ourselves. +This morning's cross-country is part of our daily training. +If we have to refuse the football call, and stay out of the squad, +are we to drop our present training?" + +"Hardly, I should say," responded Fremont. "I have something +to suggest in that line. If we can't go into what is really a +gentleman's eleven under the High School colors, I propose that +we organize an eleven of our own, and call ourselves simply the +Gridley Football Club. We can bring out an eleven that would +put things all over any school team that the muckers could organize +without our help." + +"We wouldn't play the muckers, would we?" demanded Trenholm. + +"Certainly not!" retorted Bayliss, with contemptuous emphasis. + +"We won't even know that a mucker High School team is on earth," +laughed Porter. + +"I think we understand the plan well enough, now, don't we?" inquired +Blaisdell, rising. + +"We do," nodded Porter. "And we'll all do our full share toward +bringing control of High School affairs back to the aristocratic +leadership that it once had." + +"Hoist our banners, and let them proclaim: 'Down with the muckers!'" +laughed Hudson, rolling up the hem of his sweater. + +"We want a good, not too fast but steady jog back to town," announced +Bayliss. + +At the first sign that the "soreheads" were preparing to leave +the spot Dick had taken advantage of their noise to slip away. +Dave had followed him successfully. + +Then, from another hiding place these two prowling juniors, grinning, +watched the "soreheads" move away at a loping run. + +"We certainly know all we need to about that crowd," muttered +Dick, a half-vengeful look in his eyes. "The snobs!" + +"Oh, they're cads, all right," assented Dave. "Yet that bunch +of fellows contains some of the material that is needed in putting +forth the best High School team this year!" + +"Humph!" commented Dave disgustedly. "Yet, Dick, I was almost +surprised that you would stop and listen, without letting the +fellows know you were there." + +"It does seem sneaky, at first thought," Prescott admitted, almost +shamefacedly. + +"Hold on there!" ordered Dave. "I don't believe you'd do a thing +like that, Dick Prescott, unless you had an honorable reason for +it." + +"I did it because the honor of the High School is so precious +to me---to us all," Dick replied. "We want to put forth a winning +team, as Gridley High School has always done. Now, these 'soreheads' +aim to defeat that by keeping a few of the best players off the +eleven. I listened, Dave, because I wanted to know what the trouble +was, and just who was making it. Now, I guess I know how to deal +with the 'sore-heads.' I'll make them ashamed of themselves." + +"How?" + +"One thing at a time, Dave. In our excitement we've almost forgotten +that we started out to find Theodore Dodge and clear up the mystery +of his disappearance." + + + + +CHAPTER V + +AT THE END OF THE TRAIL + + +"The further we go the more mysterious this becomes," mused Dick, +as he and Darrin stood together over a clump of faintly-marked +footprints, a quarter of an hour later. + +"How does the mystery increase?" Darrin inquired. + +"For one thing, we don't always find the bootmarks of the men +who were with Mr. Dodge. Yet once in a while we do. There are +the prints of all three. When Theodore Dodge passed by this way +the other two men were with him, or had him in sight. And our +course shows that the three were plunging deeper and deeper into +the woods. But come along. There must be an end to this, somewhere." + +Ten minutes later Prescott and Darrin felt that they had come +to the end of the mystery. For the faint trail had led them up +a slight, stony slope, and now the two boys lay flat on the ground. + +Below them, in a bush-clad hollow, two miles from the world in +general, stood a little, old, ramshackle shanty. The location +was one that seekers would hardly have found without a trail to +lead them to it. + +To the door of this shanty a broad-shouldered, rough-looking and +powerful fellow of forty had just come. The man, who was poorly +clad, wore brogans, and held in his right hand a weighty, ugly-looking +club. The fellow was smoking a short-stemmed pipe, and now stood, + with his left hand shading his eyes, peering off at the surrounding +landscape. + +Dick and Dave hugged the ground more closely behind their screen +of bushes. + +"It's all right, Bill," announced the lookout in the doorway. + +"'Course this," growled a voice from the inside. "Too far from +the main line o' travel for anyone to be spying around. Besides, +no one guesses-----" + +"Well, you can go to sleep if ye wanter, Bill. I'm goin' ter +sit up and smoke." + +With that the brogan-shod man disappeared inside the shanty. +Dick and Dave glanced at each other with eager interest. + +"I wonder whether they have Mr. Dodge in there with them?" breathed +Dick, in his ear. + +"If Mr. Dodge is in there he's keeping amazingly quiet," Darrin +responded doubtingly. + +"Within a very few minutes," Prescott rejoined, "I'm going to know +whether Mr. Dodge is in that shanty." + +"We found his footprint close enough near here," argued Dave. + +"Yes, and I feel sure enough that Mr. Dodge is there. But why +don't we hear something from him? The whole business is so uncanny +that it gives one that creepy feeling." + +For a full quarter of an hour the two chums remained hidden, barely +stirring. From the shanty, at first, came crooning tones, as +though the man in brogans were humming over old songs to himself. +Occasionally there was a snore; evidently Bill was drowsing the +day away. + +"Now, I'm going down there," whispered Dick. + +"Look out the big fellow doesn't catch you," warned Darrin. "I've +an idea he'd beat you to a pulp if he caught you." + +"I'm not as big as he is," admitted Dick, grinning, "but I think +I might prove as fast as he on my feet." + +As Prescott started to steal down into the hollow Dave reached +about him, gathering all the fair-sized stones within reach. + +"If Dick has to come from there on the rim," soliloquized Darrin, +"a few stones hurled at the face of that ugly-looking customer +might hold him back for a while. And I used to be called a pretty +fair pitcher!" + +Prescott, in the meantime, was stealing around the shanty, applying +his eyes to some tiny cracks. + +At last he turned, making straight and cautiously up the slope. + +As he came near, Dick sent Dave a signal that made that latter +youth throb with expectancy. + +"Yes! We've found Theodore Dodge!" whispered young Prescott eagerly. +"He's in there, lying on the floor, bound and gagged." + +"Whew! And what is Mr. Brogans doing?" + +"Sitting on the floors smoking and playing solitaire with a dirty +pack of cards. The other rascal, Bill, is sleeping at a great +rate." + +"What are we going to do now?" + +"Dave, are you willing to stay here, hiding and keeping watch +on the place?" + +"Surely," nodded Darrin, with great promptness. + +"If the wretches should try to take Mr. Dodge away from here-----" + +"I'll follow 'em, of course." + +"And leave a paper trail," nodded Dick. + +"Here is all the paper I have in my pockets," he added. + +"I have some, too," muttered Dave. + +"I'll be back as speedily as I can get help." + +"You ought not to be gone more than an hour." + +"Not as long as that, I hope. Goodbye, Dave, and look out for +yourself." + +After going the first hundred yards Dick Prescott let himself +out into a loping run, very much like that used by the "soreheads" +in getting back to town. With a trained runner the cross-country +style of running is suited for getting over long distances at +fair speed. + +Twenty minutes later young Prescott reached a farm house in which +there was a telephone. He asked permission to use the instrument. + +"Go right in the parlor, and help yourself," replied the farmer's +wife. + +As Dick rang on, and stood waiting, transmitter at his ear, he +first thought of calling for the police station. + +"No, I won't, either," he muttered. "This belongs to my paper. +Let them tip off the police. Hello! Give me 'The Blade' office, +Gridley, please." + +Dick waited patiently a few moments. Then: + +"Hullo! 'The Blade?' This is Prescott. Is Mr. Pollock there? +He is? Good! Tell him I want to speak with him." + +Then Mr. Pollock's voice sounded over the wire. + +"Hullo, Prescott! Why aren't you on hand, with that big Dodge +story hanging over our heads? Why, it brought me down hours before +fore my time." + +"Pollock, I've found Dodge," replied Dick Composedly. "At least, +Darrin and I-----" + +"What's that!" broke in the editor's excited voice. "You've found +Dodge? Alive?" + +As rapidly as he could young Prescott told the story. Mr. Pollock +listened gladly. + +"Now, where are you, Prescott?" + +Dick told Mr. Pollock the name of the farmer from whose home he +was telephoning. + +"Just you wait there, Prescott. And, oh!---pshaw! I came near +forgetting to tell you the biggest news of all---for you. Mrs. +Dodge this morning offered a thousand dollars' reward for the +finding of her husband, dead or alive. You'll get that reward---you +and Darrin! But I've no more time to talk. Stay right where +you are until I reach you." + +Nor was it long before Dick, pacing by the farmyard gate, saw +an automobile approaching at a lively clip. In it were the chauffeur +and Editor Pollock. + +The latter waved his hand wildly when he caught sight If his High +School reporter. + +Right begged this automobile sped another, in which sat Chief Coy, +Officer Hemingway and a uniformed policeman, in addition to the +chauffeur. + +"We didn't lose much time, did we?" hailed Mr. Pollock, as the +first auto slowed up "Jump in, quick! Show us the way." + +"I suppose there's some excitement down in Gridley, about this +time?" laughed Dick, as the two autos raced along once more. + +"Not a bit," replied the editor. "And for the very simple reason +that no one knows that Dodge has been found." + +"His family know it, of course?" queried Dick. + +"No; not a word. Chief Coy kept it quiet, and asked me to do +the same. He didn't want the Dodge family all stirred up by false +hopes in case you had made a mistake. The silence will keep 'The +Evening Mail' from learning the news for a while. And I've had +our forms left standing. We're all ready to run out an extra +---in case you haven't made a mistake, Prescott," added Mr. Pollock +quizzically. + +Dick smiled resignedly at this implied doubt. But the autos were +making fast time, and soon the machines had gone as far on the +way as they could be used. + +"Now we'll have to get out and strike across country, through +the woods," Prescott called. + +So far Dick had resolutely tried to keep out of his mind any thought +of that thousand-dollar reward. It sounded too much like "Blood +money" to take pay for helping any afflicted family out of its +troubles. Besides, it had been the glory of doing a piece of +bright newspaper work that had allured the two High School boys +at the outset. + +"Yet a thousand dollars is---a thousand dollars!" Dick couldn't +help feeling, wistfully, as he piloted his party across fields +and through the woods. "A thousand dollars! Five hundred apiece +for Dave and me! What a fearful big lot of money! What we could +do with it, If we had it! I wonder whether it would be right +and decent to take it?" + +Then, as he neared the place where he had left his chum on post +Dick Prescott found other and anxious thoughts crowding into his +mind. + +Was Dave Darrin, staunch and reliable Dave---still there, on +post, and unharmed? + +Was Theodore Dodge there? Were his captors still with him? + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE SMALL SOUL OF A GENTLEMAN + + +A few minutes later all fears and doubts were dispelled. + +Dave Darrin rose to greet the newcomers informing them, in a whisper, +that all was still well in the old shanty below. + +He of the brogans and club heard a slight noise outside. Swiftly +he rose and darted to the door, ready to pounce. + +But he beheld the policemen, with the newspaper trio just behind +them. More, Chief Coy and his subordinates had their revolvers +drawn. + +"Howdy, gents?" was Mr. Brogans' greeting as he dropped his club +and tried to grin. + +"Take care of him, Hemingway," directed Thief Coy, briefly. + +"Me?" demanded Brogans, in feigned astonishment. "What have _I_ +done?" + +The noise roused Bill, who sprang up. But Bill must have found +the police wonderfully soothing, for he quieted down at once. + +Both rascals were taken care of. Then Theodore Dodge was found +lying bound and gagged on the floor. A ragged, foul-smelling +coat had been substituted for the one that had been left at the +river's bank. The banker looked up at the intruders with a stupefied +leer, betraying neither alarm or pleasure. + +As soon as the two rough-looking fellows had been handcuffed Mr. +Dodge was freed, and his tongue also, but Chief Coy, after raising +the banker and questioning him, muttered: + +"Clean out of his head. Daffy. Must have wandered away from +Gridley during a loony streak. He isn't over it yet." + +The two rough-looking ones protested loudly against being deprived +of their liberty. + +"I don't really know that you fellows have done anything," admitted +Chief Coy. "But I'm taking you along on suspicion that it was +you, and not Mr. Dodge himself, who bound and gagged him." + +This retort, given with a great deal of dry sarcasm, silenced +the prisoners for the time being. + +"We ought to have this out an hour before 'The Evening Mail' people," +exulted Editor Pollock. "Prescott, my boy, you're a born reporter! +And, Darrin, you're not much behind." "Theodore Dodge found by +two "Blade" reporters! That won't sound bad!" + +The briefest questioning was enough to show that Theodore Dodge +was in no condition to give any account of himself. He did not +reply with an intelligible word. His eyes held only a vacant +stare. It was as though memory and reason had suddenly snapped +within his brain. + +"The doctors will want him," commented Chief Coy. "And we can't +be hustling back a bit too soon." + +It had been a gloomy morning at the home of Banker Dodge. + +Through the night, none had slept. Anxiety had kept them all +on the rack. + +Mrs. Dodge, a thin and nervous woman, had gone from one spell +of hysterics into another, as morning neared. A trained nurse +had to be sent for. + +Then in a calm lull Mrs. Dodge had telephoned for Lawyer Ripley, +who lost his breakfast through the speed with which he obeyed +the summons of the distracted wife. + +As a result of the lawyer's visit the reward of a thousand dollars +had been offered. + +The house was quiet again. Dr. Bentley, having been called for +the third time, had administered an opiate, and Mrs. Dodge was +sleeping. The other members of the family tip-toed restlessly +about. + +Bert Dodge felt in a peculiarly "mean" frame of mind that morning. +The young man simply could not remain in one spot. The more +he had thought, through and through the night, the more he had +become convinced that his father had killed himself because of +some entanglement in the bank's affairs. + +"And I'll be pointed out as the defaulter's son," thought Bert +bitterly. "Oh, why couldn't the guv'nor think of some one besides +himself! We'll have to move away from Gridley, of course. But +the disgrace will follow us anywhere we may go. Oh, it's +awful---awful! Of course, I'm not in any way to blame. But, oh! +What a disgrace!" + +It was well along in the forenoon when Bayliss, returning homeward +in sweater and running togs, espied Bert's white, wan face near +the front door. Bayliss signaled cordially to young Dodge, who, +glad of this kindliness at such a time, went down the walk to +the gate. + +"No news of your father yet, I suppose?" asked Bayliss. + +"No," sighed Bert. + +"Too bad, old fellow!" + +"Yes; the uncertainty is pretty tough on us all," Dodge replied. + +"Oh, you'll hear before the day is out, and the news will be all +right, too," declared Bayliss, with well-meant cheeriness. "Then +you'll be with us on the morning cross-countries again. We missed +you a whole lot this morning, Bert." + +"Did you?" asked young Dodge, brightening. + +"Yes; and, by the way, we've decided on our course---for our set, you +know. We're going to ignore the football call next week. If Coach +Morton asks us any questions, then we'll let him know how the +land lies. We won't try to make the High School team if the muckers +are allowed the same show. We'll have a select crowd on the eleven, +this year, or else all of our set will stay off." + +"The muckers have some good football men among them, too," grumbled +Bert. "Of course for that gang that call themselves Dick & Co +we can't any more than make guesses. But some of them would be +handy on an eleven I guess." + +"Yes; if they were not muckers," agreed Bayliss loftily. "But +there are enough of our own kind to make as good an eleven as +Gridley High School ever had." + +"It's a pity we can't get up our own eleven play the muckers, +just once, and beat them out for the right to represent Gridley." + +"It wouldn't be so bad an idea. But they might beat us," retorted +Bayliss dryly. "So, on the whole, our fellows have decided not +to pay any heed whatever to Dick & Co. or any of the other muckers. +After this the line must be drawn, at High School, between the +gentlemen and the other kind." + +"All plans looking in that direction will have my hearty support," +pledged Bert Dodge. + +"I know it, old fellow." + +"It's queer that the question never came up before about the muckers," +Bert mused. + +"We never had Dick & Co. in school athletics, until last year," +replied Bayliss significantly. + +"That fellow, Prescott, is about the worst-----" + +Bert Dodge stopped right there. Bayliss, too, started and turned. +Around the nearest corner some folks were making a big noise. Then +around the corner came two autos, while a crowd raced along on the +sidewalks. + +"Hurrah! Mr. Dodge is found. Dick Prescott and Dave Darrin found +him!" shouted a score of urchins in the crowd. + +Bert and Bayliss both gasped. Then the autos slowed up at the +curb before the gate. The police prisoners were still in the +second car. + +Bert took a look, recognized his father, despite the strange look +in that parent's face. + +"Help them bring my father in, Bayliss!" called young Dodge. +"I'll run to prepare the folks." + +In another moment there was a turmoil of excitement inside the +Dodge house. While the excitement was still going on Bert came +out to inform the crowd that both his father and mother needed +quiet and medical attendance. Bert begged the crowd to go away +quietly. + +Dick and Dave were standing before the gateway way while Editor +Pollock answered some of the queries of the crowd. + +"Great luck for you fellows, Prescott and Barren!" called some +one in the crowd. "You two will know what to do with a thousand +dollars' reward!" + +Bert Dodge wheeled about like a flash, and facing Dave and Dick, +shouted: + +"If that's what you two fellows are hanging around here for, +you'd better clear out! Take it from me that you fellows will +get no thousand dollars, or ten cents, out of our family!" + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE FOOTBALL NOTICE GOES UP + + +Mr. Pollock, usually a very calm man, wheeled upon young Dodge. + +"My lad, when you find out what Prescott and Darrin have done in +the way of rescuing your father, you'll feel wholly ashamed of +yourself. I don't believe either young man has given a second +thought to the reward." + +People in a crowd take sides quickly. Bert heard several muttered +remarks from the bystanders that made him flush. Then, choking +and angry, he turned and darted for the house. + +By this time Mr. Pollock, Dick and Dave were speeding for "The Blade" +office. + +Already a run had started on the Second National Bank. A crowd +filled the counting room and extended out onto the sidewalk. +Their depositors, largely small business men and people who ran +private check accounts, were frightfully nervous about their money. + +Up to noon the bank paid all demands, though the accounts were +adjusted slowly, while the crowd grew in numbers outside. At +noon the Second National availed itself of its privilege of closing +its doors promptly at that hour on Saturday. + +Dick Prescott wrote with furious speed at "The Blade" office. +In another room Mr. Pollock wrote from the facts supplied by +Dave Darrin. In half an hour from the time these three entered +the office the "Extra" was out on the street---fifteen minutes +ahead of "The Mail," which latter newspaper contained very little +beyond the fact that Mr. Dodge had been found, and that he was +now under the care of his family. "The Mail" stated that the +discovery had been made by "two High School boys" aiding the police, +and did not name either Dick or Dave. + +On Monday the bank examiner arrived. He made a quick inspection +of the bank's affairs, and pronounced the institution "sound." +The run on the bank stopped, and timid depositors began to bring +back their money. The members of the Dodge family could once +more hold up their heads. + +In the meantime Dr. Bentley had called in a specialist. Together +the two medical men decided that Theodore Dodge had suffered only +from an extreme amount of overwork; that the strain had momentarily +unbalanced his mind, and had made the deranged man contemplate +drowning himself. + +By means of a modified form of the "third degree" Chief Coy, by +this time, had succeeded in making the two vagrants confess that +they had found Mr. Dodge, with his coat and hat off standing by +the bank of the stream. Guessing the banker's condition, and +learning his identity, the two men, though they did not confess +on this point, had evidently coaxed the banker away to their shanty +away off in the heart of the woods. Undoubtedly it had been their +plan to keep the banker under their own eyes, with a view of extorting +a reward from the missing man's family. The judge of the local +court finally decided to send both men away for six months on +a charge of vagrancy. + +And here the matter seemed to end. Though Lawyer Ripley urged +the prompt payment of the offered reward to Prescott and Darrin, +Mrs. Dodge, influenced by her son, demurred. At Mr. Pollock's +suggestion Dick and Dave promptly drew up and signed a paper releasing +the Dodge family from any claim. This paper was also signed by +the fathers of the two boys, and forwarded to Lawyer Ripley. +That gentleman man returned the paper to Dick, with a statement +that he might have something to communicate at a later date. + +Tuesday morning, with many secret misgivings, Coach Morton, who +was also one of the submasters of the High School, posted the +call for the football squad. The call was for three o'clock Thursday +afternoon, at the gym. + +"Humph!" was the audible and only comment of Bayliss, as he stood +before the school bulletin board at recess and read the announcement. + +"I guess the day for football here has gone by," observed Porter +sneeringly. + +"Of interest to ragamuffins only," sneered Paulson, as he turned +away to join Fremont of the senior class. + +"Listen to the wild enthusiasm over upholding the school's honor +in athletics," muttered Dave, scowling darkly. + +"We knew it was coming," declared Tom Reade. + +Abner Cantwell was still principal at Gridley High School, though +that violent-tempered and unpopular pedagogue had been engaged, +this year, only as "substitute" principal. There were rumors +that Dr. Thornton, the former and much-loved principal, would +soon be in sufficiently good health to return. So the Board of +Education had left the way clear for dropping Mr. Cantwell at +any moment that it might see fit. + +Dick & Co. had gathered by themselves on this Tuesday, at recess. +They did not discuss the football call, nor its reception by +the "soreheads," for they had known what was coming. Just before +recess was over, however, there were sudden sounds of a riot around +the bulletin board. + +"Tear that down!" + +"Throw 'em out!" + +"Raus mit!" + +"The mean cheats!" + +There was a surging rush of High School boys for the bulletin +board. + +Bayliss and Fremont, both of the senior class, who had just posted +a new notice, were now trying to push their way through an angry +crowd of youngsters that had collected. + +"They're no good!" + +"A disgrace to the school!" + +"Send 'em to Coventry!" + +"No! Handle 'em right now!" + +There was another rush. + +"Get back, you hoodlums!" yelled Bayliss, his face violet with +rage. + +"I'll crack the head of any fellow that lays hands on me!" stormed +Fremont. + +"Oh, will he? Come on, then, fellows!" + +Fremont was caught up as though by a cyclone. Two or three fellows +seized him at a time, passing him down the corridor. The last +to receive the hapless Fremont propelled him through the main +doorway of the school building. Nor was this done with any gentle +force, either. + +Bayliss, not attempting to fight, was simply hustled along on +his feet. + +Out of one of the rooms near by rushed Mr. Cantwell, the principal---or +"Prin." as he was known, his face white with the anger that he +felt over what he regarded as a most unseemly disturbance. + +"Stop this riot, young gentlemen!" commanded the principal sternly. + +"Send in the riot call, like you did last year!" piped up a disguised, +thin, falsetto voice from the outskirts of the rapidly growing +crowd. Quite a lot of the girls had gathered, too, by this time. + +The principal turned around, sharply, as some of the girls began +to giggle. But Mr. Cantwell was unable to detect the one who +had thus taunted him. + +Coach Morton peered over the railing of the floor above. + +"Mr. Morton!" called the principal. + +"Yes, sir." + +"Sound the assembling gong, if you please." + +Clang! clang! clang! + +The din of the gong cut their recess four minutes short, but not +one of the excited High School boys regretted it. They had had +a chance to express themselves, and now fell in, filing down to +the locker rooms, then up the stairs once more to the assembly +room. Bayliss and Fremont came in, joining the others. They +were white-faced, but strove to carry their heads very high. + +The sounding of the gong had stopped the circulating of the paper +that had been so angrily torn down from the bulletin board. It +was in Dick Prescott's hands now. + +The notice had announced the formation of a "select" party for +a straw ride for the young men and young women of the junior and +senior classes on Thursday afternoon, starting at two-thirty o'clock. +Invitations would be issued by the committee, after requests +for tickets had been passed upon by that committee. Bayliss, +Fremont and Paulson signed the notice of the straw ride. + +This was the means by which the "soreheads" chose to announce +that they would ignore the football squad call for Thursday. + +Wisely, for once, the principal did not choose to question the +young men regarding the excitement attending the close of recess. +Studies and recitations went on as usual. + +But feeling ran high. The "soreheads" and their sympathizers +were known, by this time, to all the other young men of the student +body. During the rest of the day's session many a "sorehead" +found himself being regarded with black or sneering looks. + +Of course the self-elected "exclusive" set was not numerously +represented in the High School. Most of the boys and girls did +not come from well-to-do families. Some who did had refused to +have anything to do with the "sorehead" crowd. + +The instant that school was dismissed that Tuesday afternoon scores +of the more boisterous boys rushed from the building, across the +yard, and double-lined the sidewalk leading from the gateway. + +"Ugh! ugh! ugh!" they groaned, whenever any of the "soreheads" +tried to walk this gauntlet in dignified silence. + +"Let's keep out of that, fellows," advised Dick, to his chums, +who grouped themselves about him. "Groans and catcalls won't +smooth or soothe any hard-feelings." + +"I don't blame any of the fellows for what they're doing to the +snobs," blazed Dan Dalzell indignantly. + +"I don't say that I do, either," Dick replied quietly. "But there +may be better ways of teaching fellows that they should stand +by their school at all times." + +"I'd like to know a better way, then," flared Tom Reade. + +"Let's have it, instanter, Dick, if you've got one," begged Greg +Holmes. + +"Yes; out with it, old chap," begged Harry Hazelton. + +But Dick Prescott smiled provokingly. + +"Perhaps, with the help of some of the rest of you," he replied, +"I shall be able to find a way of cooling some hot heads. I hope +so, anyway." + +"Dick has his plan all fixed, now," Dan whispered, hopefully, +to Tom. + +"If he has," quoth Reade, under his breath, I wish he'd tell us +his scheme." + +"Humph!" retorted Dan. "You know Dick Prescott, and you know +that he never shoots until he has taken time to aim." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +DICK FIRES BOTH BARRELS + + +"Oh---great Scott!" gasped Tom Reade, as he paused at an item in +"The Blade" the following morning. + +That item had been written by Prescott. There could be no doubt +about it in Reade's mind. + +"What's the matter?" asked Tom's father. + +"Oh, Dick has been paying his respects to a certain clique in +the High School, I take it," Tom replied, with a grin. "I heard, +yesterday, that he was going to shoot into that crowd. But---and +here's a short editorial on the same subject, too. Wow! Dick +has fired into the enemy with both barrels!" + +A moment later Tom passed the paper over to his father. Dick's +article read: + +_There is a possibility that Gridley High School will not be in +the front ranks in football this year. Those who know state that +a "sorehead" combination has been formed by the young male representatives +of some of our wealthier families. These young men, having elected +themselves, so it is said, the salt of the earth, or the cream +of a new Gridley aristocracy, are going to refuse to play in the +football eleven this year. + +Even young men who belong to "prominent" families may have some +gifts in the way of football ability. Three or four out of the +dozen or more "soreheads" are really needed if Gridley High School +is to maintain its standing this year. The remainder of the +"soreheads" may, with advantage to the High School eleven, be +excused from offering themselves. + +The "soreheads," it is stated, feel that it would be beneath the +dignity of their families for them to play on an eleven which +must, in any event, be recruited largely from the sons of the +Gridley families less fortunately situated financially. + +Strangely enough, though they don't intend to play football this +year, these "soreheads" have been training hard of late, one of +their practices being the taking of an early morning cross-country +run together. + +The average young man at the High School is as eager as ever to +uphold the town's and the school's honor and dignity on the football +gridiron this year. Whether the so-called "soreheads" will reconsider +their proposed course of action and throw themselves in with the +common lot for the upholding of the Gridley name and the honor +of the High School will have been determined within the next few +days. It is possible, however, that this little coterie of self-appointed +"exclusives" will continue to refuse to cast their lot with the +commoner run of High School boys, to whom some of the "soreheads" +have referred as "muckers." A Gridley "mucker," it may be stated +in passing, is a Gridley boy of poor parents who desires to obtain +a decent education and better himself in life._ + +"Is that article true?" demanded Tom Reade's father. + +"Yes, sir," Tom responded. "Dick wouldn't have written it, if +it hadn't been. But turn over to the editorial column, and see +that other little bit." + +The editorial in question referred to the news printed in another +column, and stated that this information, if correct, showed a +state of affairs at the High School that needed bettering. The +editor continued: + +_If there are in the High School any young snobs who display such +a mean and un-American spirit, then the thoughtful reader must +conclude that these young men are being unjustly educated at the +public expense, for such boys are certain to grow into men who +will turn nothing of value back into the community. Such young +men, if they really need to study, should be educated at the expense +of their families. Both the High School and the community can +easily dispense with the presence of snobs and snobbery._ + +"I guess there'll be some real soreness in some heads this morning," +laughed Tom's father. + +"Won't there!" ejaculated Tom, and hurried out into the street. +It did not take him long to find some of his chums and other +High School boys. Those who had not seen "The Blade" read the +two marked portions eagerly. + +Bert Dodge had "The Blade" placed before him by his sister. Bert +read with reddening cheeks. + +"That's what comes of letting a fellow like Dick Prescott write +for the papers," Bert stormed angrily. "That fellow ought to +be tarred and feathered!" + +"Why don't you suggest it to the 'soreheads'?" asked his sister, +quizzically. Grace Dodge was an amiable, democratic, capable +girl who had gone through college with honors, and yet had not +gained a false impression of the importance conferred by a little +wealth. + +"Grace, I believe you're laughing at me!" dared the young man +exasperatedly. + +"No; I'm not laughing. I'm sorry," sighed the young woman. "But +I can imagine that a good many are laughing, this morning, and +that the number will grow. Bert, dear, do you think any young +man can hope to be very highly esteemed when he sets his own importance +above the good name and success of his school?" + +Bert did not answer, but quit the house moodily. He encountered +some of "his own set," but they were not a very cheerful-looking +lot that morning. Not one of the "soreheads" could escape the +conviction that Dick Prescott held the whip hand of public opinion +over them. What none of them appreciated, was the moderation +with which young Prescott had wielded his weapon. + +Dodge, Bayliss, Paulson and Hudson entered the High School grounds +together, that morning, ten minutes before opening time. As the +quartette passed, several of the little groups of fellow students +ceased their talk and turned away from the four "soreheads." +Then, after the quartette had passed, quiet little laughs were +heard. + +All four mounted the steps of the building with heightening color. + +Before the door, talking together, stood Fred Ripley and Purcell, +whom the "soreheads" had endeavored to enlist. + +"Good morning, Purcell. Morning, Ripley," greeted Bayliss. + +Fred and Purcell wheeled about, turning their backs without answering. + +Once inside the building the four young fellows looked at each +other uneasily. + +"Are the fellows trying to send us to coventry?" demanded Dodge. + +"Oh, well," muttered Bayliss, "there are enough of us. We can +stand it!" + +Yet, at recess, the "soreheads" found themselves extremely uncomfortable. +None of their fellow-students, among the boys, would notice them. +Whenever some of the "soreheads" passed a knot of other boys, +low-toned laughs followed. Even many of the girls, it proved, +had taken up with the Coventry idea. + +"Fellows, come to my place after you've had your luncheons," Bayliss +whispered around among his cronies, after school was out for the +day. "I---I guess there are a---a few things that we want to +talk over among ourselves. So come over, and we'll use the carriage +house for a meeting place. Maybe we'll organize a club among +ourselves, or---or---do something that shall shut us out and away +from the common herd of this school." + +When the dozen or more met in the Bayliss carriage house that +afternoon there were some defiant looks, and some anxious ones. + +"I don't know how you fellows feel about this business," began +Hudson frankly. "But I've had a pretty hot grilling at home by +Dad. He asked me if I belonged to the 'sorehead' gang. I answered +as evasively as I could. Then dad brought his list down on the +table and told me he prayed that I wouldn't go through life with +any false notions about my personal dimensions. He told me, rather +explosively, that I would never be a bit bigger, in anyone's estimation +than I proved myself to be." + +"Hot, was he?" asked Bayliss, with a half sneer. + +"He started out that way," replied Hudson. "But pretty soon Dad +became dignified, and asked me where I had ever gotten the notion +that I amounted to any more than any other fellow of the same +brain caliber." + +"What did you tell him? asked Bert Dodge, frowning. + +"I couldn't tell him much," retorted Hudson, smiling wearily. +"Dad was primed to do most of the talking. When he stopped for +breath mother began." + +"It's all that confounded Dick Prescott's doings! It's a shame! +It's a piece of anarchy---that's what it is!" muttered Paulson. +"On my way here I passed three men on the street. They looked +at me pretty hard, and laughed after I had gone by. Fellows, +are we going to allow that mucker, Dick Prescott, to make us +by-words in this town?" + +"No siree, no!" roared Fremont. + +"Good! That's what I like to hear," put in Hudson dryly. "And +what are we going to do to stop Dick Prescott and turn public +opinion our ways" + +"Why-----" + +"We-----" + +"The way to-----" + +"We'll-----" + +Several spoke at once, then all came to a full stop. The "soreheads" +looked at each other in puzzled silence. + +"What are we going to do?" demanded Fremont. "How are we going +to hit back at a fellow who has a newspaper that he can use as +a club on your head?" + +"We might have a piece put in 'The Evening Mail,'" hinted Porter, +after a dazed silence. "That's the rival paper." + +"Yes!" chimed in Bayliss, eagerly. "We can write a piece and +get it put in 'The Mail.' Our piece can say that there has been +a tendency, this year, or was believed to be one, to get a rowdyish +element of the High School into the High School eleven, and that +our move was really a move intended to sustain the past reputation +of the Gridley High School for gentlemanly playing in all school +sports. That will hit Dick & Co., and a lot of others, and will +turn the laugh back on the muckers." + +This proposition brought forth several eager cries of approval. + +"I see just one flaw in the plan," observed Hudson slowly. + +"What is it?" demanded half a dozen at once. + +"Why, 'The Evening Mail' is a paper designed to appeal to the more +rowdyish element in Gridley politics. 'The Mail's' circulation is +about all among the class of people who come nearest to being +'rowdyish.' So I'm pretty certain, fellows, that 'The Mail' wouldn't +take up our cause, and hammer our enemies with the word 'rowdy.' 'The +Blade' is the paper that circulates among the best people in Gridley." + +"And Dick Prescott writes for 'The Blade'!" + +A gloomy silence followed, broken by Bayliss's disconsolate query: + +"Then, hang it! What can we do?" + +And that query stuck hard! + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +BAYLISS GETS SOME ADVICE + + +On that fateful Thursday morning every High School boy, and nearly +every High School girl saw "The Blade." + +The morning paper, however, contained no allusion whatever to +the football remarks of the day before. + +Instead, there was an article descriptive of the changes to be +made out at the High School athletic field this present year, +and there were points and "dope" (as the sporting parlance phrases +it) concerning the records and rumored new players of other High +School elevens that were anxious to meet Gridley on the gridiron +this coming season. + +Thursday's article was just the kind of a one that was calculated +to make every football enthusiast eager to see the season open +in full swing. + +Again the "soreheads" came to school, and once more they had to +pass the silent groups of their fellow students, who stood with +heads turned away. The reign of Coventry seemed complete. Never +before had any of the "soreheads" understood so thoroughly the +meaning of loneliness. + +At recess all the talk was of football. None of this talk, however, +was heard by the "soreheads." Whenever any of these went near +the other groups the talk ceased instantly. There was no comfort +in the yard, that morning, for a "sorehead." + +When school let out that afternoon, at one o'clock, Bayliss, Fremont, +Dodge and their kind scurried off fast. No one offered to stop +them. These "exclusive" young men could not get away from the +fact that exclusion was freely accorded them. + +Fred Ripley, as had been his wont in other years when he was a +freshman, walked homeward with Clara Deane. + +"Fred, you haven't got yourself mixed up at all with that 'sorehead' +crowd, have you?" Miss Deane asked. + +"Not much!" replied Fred, with emphasis. "I want to play football +this year." + +"Will all the 'soreheads' be kept out of the eleven, even if they +come to their senses?" Clara inquired. + +"Now, really, you'll have to ask me an easier one than that," +replied Fred Ripley laughingly. + +"I had an idea that all of the fellows whose families are rather +comfortably well off might be in the movement---or the strike or +whatever you call it," Clara replied. + +"Oh, no; there's a lot of us who haven't gone in with the kickers---and +glad we are of it," Fred replied. + +"Still, don't you believe in any importance attaching to the fact +that one comes of one of the rather good old families?" asked +Clara Deane thoughtfully. + +"Why, of course, it's something to be quietly proud of," Fred +slowly assented. Then added, with a quick laugh: + +"But the events of the last two days show that one should keep +his pride buttoned in behind his vest." + +As for the "soreheads" themselves, there weren't any more meetings. +As soon as they actually began to realize how much amused contempt +many of the Gridley, people felt for them, these young men began +to feel rather disgusted with themselves. + +Across the street, and not far from the gymnasium building, was +an apartment house in which two apartments were vacant. Being +well acquainted with the agent, Bayliss borrowed the key to one +of the apartments. Before half past two that afternoon, Bayliss +and Dodge were in hiding, where they could look out through a +movable shutter at the gymnasium building. + +"There go Prescott, Darrin and Reade," Bayliss soon reported. + +"Oh, of course; they'll answer the football call," sniffed Dodge. +"It was over fellows just like them that the whole trouble started." + +"And there's Dalzell, Hazelton and Hanshew. Griffith is just +behind them." + +"Yes; all muckers," nodded Dodge. + +"There's Coach Morton." + +"Of course; he has to attend," replied Dodge, coming toward the +shuttered window. "But I'll wager old Morton isn't feeling over-happy +this afternoon." + +"I don't know," grumbled Bayliss. "There he is at the gym. door, +shaking hands with Dick Prescott and Dave Darrin, and laughing +pretty heartily." + +"Laughing to keep his courage up, I reckon," clicked Bert Dodge +dryly. "Morton knows he's going to miss a lot of faces that he'd +like to see there this year." + +Then Dodge took up post at the peephole, while Bayliss stepped +back, yawning. + +Several more football aspirants neared and entered the gym. The +name of each was called off by Bert. + +"This is the first year," chuckled Bayliss, "when Gridley hasn't +had a chance for a star eleven." + +"I'll miss the game, myself, like fury," commented Dodge. "All +through last season, when I played on the second eleven, I was +looking forward to this year." + +"Now, don't you go to getting that streak, and quit us," warned +Bayliss quickly. "Our set is going to get up its own eleven; +don't forget that! And we're going to play some famous games." + +"Sure!" admitted Dodge. But there was a choke in his throat. + +Just a few moments later Bert Dodge gave a violent start, then +cried out, in a voice husky with emotion: + +"Oh, I say, Bayliss, look-----" + +"What-----" + +"_Hudson_!" + +"What about him?" + +"Quick!" + +"Well, you ninny," + +"Hudson is going in the-----" + +With a cry partly of doubting, partly of rage, Bayliss leaped +forward, crowding out Dodge in order to get a better view. + +Hudson was actually ascending the gym. steps, and going up as +though he meant business. + +"He's gone over to---to---them!" gasped Bert Dodge. + +"The mean _traitor_!" hissed Bayliss. + +Hudson did, indeed, brave it out by going straight on into the +gym. As he entered some of the fellows already there glared at +him dubiously. But Hudson met the look bravely. + +"Hullo!" cried Dick. "There's Hudson!" + +Coach Morton heard, from another part of the gym. Turning around, +the coach greeted tile reformed 'sorehead' with a nod and a smile. +Then some of the fellows spoke to Hudson as that young man moved +by them. In a few moments more, Hudson began to feel almost +at home among his own High School comrades. + +Then Drayne, another 'sorehead,' showed up. He, too, was treated +as though nothing had happened. When Trenholm, still another +of the "soreheads," looked in at the gym., he appeared very close +to being afraid. When he saw Hudson and Drayne there he hastened +forward. By and by Grayson came in. At the window across the +street Bayliss and Dodge had checked off all four of these "deserters" +and "traitors." + +"Well, they'll play, anyway---either on school or on second," +muttered Bert, to himself. "Oh, dear! Just think the way things +have turned out." + +These four deserters from the "soreheads" were all out of that +very select crowd who did respond to the football call. + +Promptly at three o'clock Coach Morton called for order. Then, +after a very few remarks, he called for the names of all who intended +to enter the football training squad for this season. + +"And let every fellow who thinks he's lazy, or who doesn't like +to train hard and obey promptly, keep his name off the list," +warned the coach dryly. "I've come to the conclusion that what +we need in this squad is Army discipline. We're going to have +it this year! Now, young gentlemen, come along with your +names---those of you who really believe you can stand Spartan +training." + +"I think I might draw the line at having the fox---or was it a +wolf---gnawing at my entrails, as one Spartan had to take it," +laughed one youngster. + +"Guess again, or you'd better stay off the squad this year," laughed +the coach. "This is going to be a genuinely rough season for +all weaklings." + +There was a quick making up of the roll. + +"Tomorrow afternoon, at three sharp, you'll all report on the +athletic field," announced Coach Morton, when he had finished +writing down the names. "Any man who fails to show up tomorrow +afternoon will have his name promptly expunged from the squad +rolls. No excuses will be accepted for failure tomorrow." + +There was a crispness about that which some of the fellows didn't +like. + +"Won't a doctor's certificate of illness go?" asked one fellow +laughingly. + +"It will go---not," retorted coach. "Pill-takers and fellows +liable to chills aren't wanted on this year's team, anyway. Now, +young gentlemen, I'm going to give you a brief talk on the general +art of taking care of yourselves, and the art of keeping yourselves +in condition." + +The talk that followed seemed to Dick Prescott very much like +a repetition of what Coach Luce had said to them the winter before, +at the commencement of indoor training for baseball. + +As he finished talking on health and condition Mr. Morton drew +from one of his pockets a bunch of folded papers. + +"I am now," he continued, "going to present to each one of you +a set of rules, principles, guides---call them what you will. +On this paper each one of you will find laid down rules that +should be burned into the memories of all young men who aspire +to play football. Do not lose your copies of these rules. Read +the rules over again and again. Memorize them! Above all, put +every rule into absolute practice." + +Then, at a sign, the young men passed before the coach to receive +their printed instructions. + +"Something new you've gotten up, Mr. Morton?" inquired one of +the fellows. + +"No," the coach admitted promptly. "These rules aren't original +with me. I ran across 'em, and I've had them printed, by authority +from the Athletics Committee. I wish I had thought up a set of +rules as good." + +As fast as they received their copies each member of the squad +darted away to read the rules through. This is what each man +found on the printed sheet: + +_"1. Work hard and be alive. + 2. Work hard and learn the rules. + 3. Work hard and learn the signals. + 4. Work hard and keep on the jump. + 5. Work hard and have a nose for the ball. + 6. Work hard all the time. Be on speaking terms with the ball +every minute. + 7. Work hard and control your temper and tongue. + 8. Work hard and don't quit when you're tackled. Hang onto the ball. + 9. Work hard and get your man before he gets started. Get him +before the going gets good. + 10. Work hard and keep your speed. If you're falling behind +your condition is to blame. + 11. Work hard and be on the job all the time, a little faster, a +little sandier, a little more rugged than the day before. + 12. Work hard and keep your eyes and ears open and your head up. + 13. Work hard and pull alone the man with the ball. This isn't a +game of solitaire. + 14. Work hard and be on time at practice every day. Train faithfully. +Get your lessons. Aim to do your part and to make yourself a +perfect part of the machine. Be a gentleman. If the combination +is too much for you, turn in your togs and call around during +croquet season."_ + +"What do you think of that, as expounding the law of football?" +smiled coach, looking down over Dave Darrin's shoulder. + +"It doesn't take long to read, Mr. Morton And it ought not to +take long to memorize these fourteen rules. But to live them, +through and through, and up and down---that's going to take a +lot of thought and attention." + +To the four ex-"soreheads" not a word had been said about the +late unpleasantness, nor was this quartette any longer in Coventry. + +Trenholm, Grayson, Drayne and Hudson were the four best football +men of the Bayliss-Dodge faction. Now that they were to play +with the High School eleven all concerned felt wholly relieved. + +As the young men were leaving the gym. that afternoon Coach Morton +found a chance to grip Dick's arm and to whisper lightly in his +ear: + +"Thank you, Prescott." + +"For what, Mr. Morton." + +"Why, for what you managed to do to hold the school eleven together. +That was clever newspaper work, Prescott. And it has helped +the school a lot. I'm no longer uneasy about Gridley High School +on the gridiron for this season. We'll have a team now!" + +With a confident nod the coach strolled away. + +As the gym. doors were thrown open the members of the new football +squad rushed out with joyous whoops. Some of the more mischievous +or spirited actually tackled unsuspicious comrades, toppling their +victims over to the ground. That line of tactics resulted in +many a "chase" that brought out some remarkably good sprinting +talent. Thus the squad dissipated itself like the mist, and soon +the grounds near the school were deserted. + +Bayliss and Bert Dodge went away to nurse a grievance that nothing +seemed to cure. + +For these two, now that their strong line of resistance had been +broken, found themselves secretly longing, as had the four deserters, +for a place in the football squad. + +Bert Dodge sulked along to school, alone that Friday morning. +Bayliss, however, after a night of wakefulness, had decided to +"eat crow." + +So, as Dick, Dave and Greg Holmes were strolling along schoolward, +Bayliss overhauled them. + +"Good morning, fellows," he called, briskly, with an offhand attempt +at geniality. + +All three of the chums looked up at him, then glanced away again. + +"Oh, I say, now, don't keep it up," coaxed Bayliss. "We High +School fellows all want to be decent enough friends. And how's +the football? I don't suppose the squad is full yet. I---I half +believe I may join and take a little practice." + +"Thinking of it?" asked Dick, looking up coolly. + +"Yes---really," replied Bayliss. + +"See the coach, then; he's running the squad." + +"Yes; I guess I will, thanks. Good morning!" + +Bayliss sauntered along, blithely whistling a tune. He knew Coach +Morton would give him the glad hand of welcome for the squad and +the team. + +"Oh, Mr. Morton," was Bayliss's greeting, as he encountered the +coach near the school building steps. + +"Yes?" asked the submaster pleasantly. + +"I---I---er---I didn't make the meeting yesterday afternoon, but +I guess you might put my name down for the squad." + +"Isn't this a bit late, Bayliss?" asked the submaster, eyeing +the youth keenly. + +"Perhaps, a bit," assented the confident young man. "However-----" + +"At its meeting, last night, Mr. Bayliss, the Athletics Committee +of the Alumni Association advised me to consider the squad list +closed." + +"Closed?" stammered Bayliss, turning several shades in succession. +"Closed? Do---do you mean-----" + +"No more additions will be made to the squad this year," replied +the coach quietly, then going inside. + +Bayliss stood on the steps, a picture of humiliation and amazement. + +"Fellows," gasped Bayliss, as Prescott and his two chums came +along, "did you hear that? Football list closed?" + +"Want some advice?" asked Dick, halting for an instant. + +"Yes," begged Bayliss. + +"Never kick a sore toe against a stone wall," quoth Dick Prescott, +and passed on into the school building. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +TWO GIRLS TURN THE LAUGH + + +By this time training was going on briskly. Four days out of +every week the squad had to practice for two hours at the athletic +field. + +There were tours of work in the gym., too. + +Besides, it was "early to bed and early to rise" for all members +of the squad. + +Even those who hoped only to "make second" were under strict orders +to let nothing interfere with their condition. + +Three mornings in the week Coach Morton met all squad men for +either cross-country work or special work in sprinting. And this +was before breakfast, when each man was on honor pledged to take +only a pint of hot water---nothing more---before reporting. +On the other mornings, football aspirants were pledged to run +without the coach. + +Yet, with all this, studies had to be kept up to a high average, +for no man on the "unset" list could hope to be permitted to play +football. + +Hard work? Yes. But discipline, above all. And discipline is +priceless to the young man who really hopes to get ahead in life! + +"You're not playing fair," Dave cried reproachfully to his chum +one day. + +"Why not?" Prescott questioned mildly. + +"You're using hair tonic!" Darrin asserted, with mock seriousness, +as he gazed at Dick's bushy mop of football hair. "You're growing +a regular chrysanthemum for a top piece to your head." + +"Oh, my hair, eh?" smiled Dick. "Why, you can have as fine a +lot of hair if you want to take the trouble." + +"Don't I want it, though?" retorted Darrin. "What kind of tonic +do you use?" + +"Grease," smiled Prescott. + +"Nothing but grease?" + +"Nothing much." + +"What kind of grease?" + +"Elbow!" + +"Now, stop your joshing," ordered Dave promptly. "No kind of +muscular work is going to bring out a fuzzy rug like that on anyone's +skypiece." + +"But that's just how I do it," Dick insisted. "Not a bit hard, +either. See here! Just use your finger tips, briskly, like this, +and stir your whole scalp up with a brisk massage." + +"How long do you keep it up?" demanded Dave, after following suit +for some time. + +"Oh, about ninety seconds, I guess," nodded Prescott. "You want +to do it eight times a day, and wash your head weekly, though +with bland soap and not too much of it." + +"Is that honestly all you do to get a Siberian fur wig such as +you're wearing?" + +"That's all I do," replied Dick. "Except---yes; there's one +thing more. Go out of doors all you can without a hat." + +"The active curry-comb and the vanished hat for mine, then," muttered +Dave, with another envious look at Dick's bushy hair. + +Nor did Dave rest until the other chums all had the secret. By +the time that the football season opened Dick & Co. were the envy +of the school for their heavy heads of hair. + +With all the hard work of training, Coach Morton did not intend +that the young men should be so busy as to have no time for recreation. +He understood thoroughly the value of the lighter, happier moments +in keeping an athlete's nervous system up to concert pitch. + +Though the baseball training of the preceding spring had been +"stiff" enough, Dick & Co. soon found that the football training +was altogether more rugged. + +In fact, Coach Morton, with the aid of Dr. Bentley as medical +director, weeded out a few of the young men after training had +been going on for a fortnight. Some failed to show sufficient +reserve "wind" after running. A few other defectives proved not +to have hearts strong enough for the grilling work of the gridiron. + +All the members of Dick & Co., however, managed to keep in the +squad. In fact, hints soon began to go around, mysteriously, +that Dick & Co. were having the benefit of some outside training. +Purcell came to young Prescott and asked him frankly about this +report. + +"Nothing in it," Dick replied promptly. "We're having just the +same training as the rest of the boys. But I'll tell you a secret." + +"Go on!" begged Purcell eagerly. + +"You know the training rules---early retiring and all?" + +"Yes; of course." + +"Well, we fellows are sticking to orders like leeches. Every +night, to the minute, we're in bed. We make a long night's sleep +of it. Then, besides, we don't slight a single particle of the +training work that we're told to do by ourselves. We've agreed +on that, and have promised each other. Now, do you suppose all +the fellows are sticking quite as closely to coach's orders?" + +"I---I---well, perhaps they're not," agreed Purcell. + +"Are you?" insisted Dick. + +"In the _main_, I do." + +"Oh," observed Prescott, with mild sarcasm. "'In the main'! +Now, see here, Purcell, we High School fellows are fortunate in +having one of the very best coaches that ever a High School squad +did have. Mr. Morton knows what he's doing. He knows how to +bring out condition, and how to teach the game. He lays down +the rules that furnish the sole means of success at football. +And you---one of our most valuable fellows---are following some +of his instructions---when they don't conflict with your comfort +or with your own ideas about training. Now, honestly, what do +you know about training that is better than Coach Morton's information +on that very important subjects" + +"Oh, come, now; you're a little bit too hard, Prescott," argued +Purcell. "I do about everything just as I'm told." + +"You admit Mr. Morton's ability, don't you?" + +"Yes, of course." + +"Then why don't you stick to every single rule that's laid down +by a man who knows what he is doing? It will be better for your +condition, won't it, Purcell?" + +"Yes, without a doubt." + +"And what is better for you is better for the team and for the +school, isn't its" + +"By Jove, Prescott, you're a stickler for duty, aren't you?" cried +Purcell. + +He spoke in a louder tone this time. Two girls who were passing +the street corner where the young men stood heard the query and +glanced over with interest. + +Neither young man perceived the girls at that moment. + +"Why, yes," Prescott answered slowly. "Duty is the main thing +there is about life, isn't it?" + +"Right again," laughed Purcell. + +One of the girls looked swiftly at the other. They were Laura +Bentley and Belle Meade, friends of Dick's and Dave's, and also +members of the junior class. + +"Well, I'm going to take a leaf out of your book," pursued Purcell. +"I'm really as anxious to see Gridley High School always on top +as you or any other fellow can be." + +"Of course you are," nodded Dick. "The way you put our baseball +team through last season proves that." + +"I'm going to be a martinet for training, hereafter," Purcell +declared earnestly. "I'm going to be a worse stickler than old +coach himself. And I'm going to exercise my right as a senior +to watch the other fellows and hold their noses to the training +grindstone." + +"Then I'm not worried about Gridley having a winning team this +year," Dick answered. + +"By Jove, you had a lot to do with that, too, didn't you, Prescott?" +cried Purcell. "You put it over the 'soreheads' so hard that +we never heard from them again after we got started." + +"You helped there, also, Purcell. If you and Ripley and a few +others had gone over to the 'soreheads' it would have stiffened +their backbone and nothing could have made it possible, this year, +for Gridley High School to have an eleven that would represent +all the best football that there is in the grand old school." + +In the first two years of their school life Dick and Dave had +spent many pleasant hours in the society of Laura and Belle. +So far, during the junior year, the chums had had but little +chance to see the girls, for the demands of football were fearfully +exacting. + +Laura, being almost at the threshold of seventeen years, had grown +tall and womanly. Bert Dodge began to notice what a very pretty +girl the doctor's daughter was becoming. So, one afternoon while +the football squad was practicing hard over on the athletic field, +Bert encountered Laura and Belle as they strolled down the Main +Street. + +Lifting his hat, Dodge greeted the girls, and stood chatting with +them for a few moments. To this neither of the girls could object, +for Bert's manners, with the other sex, were always irreproachable. + +But, presently, Laura saw her chance. She did not want to be +rude, but Bert's face had just taken on a half-sneering look at +a chance mention of Dick's name. + +"You aren't playing football this year, Bert?" Laura asked innocently. + +Bert quickly flushed. + +"No," he admitted. + +"Of course everyone can't make the eleven," Belle added, with +mild malice. + +"I---I don't believe I'd care to," Dodge went on. "I---you see---I +don't care about all the fellows in the squad." + +"I don't suppose every boy who is playing on the squad is a chum +of everyone else," remarked Laura. + +"Such fellows as Prescott, for instance, I don't care much about," +Bert continued, with a swift side glance at Laura Bentley to see +how she took that remark. But Laura showed not a sign in her +face. + +"No?" she asked quietly. "I think him a splendid fellow. By +the way, he and Dave Darrin haven't received the reward for finding +your father, have they?" + +Bert gasped. His face went white, then red. He fidgeted about +for an answer. + +"No," he replied, cuttingly, at last, "and I don't believe they +ever will." + +"Oh, I beg your pardon," cried Laura in quick contrition. "I +didn't know that it was a tender spot with you, or your family." + +"It isn't," Bert rejoined hurriedly. "It simply amounts to this, +that the reward will never be paid to a pair of cheeky, +brazen-faced-----" + +"Won't you please stop right there, Mr. Dodge?" Laura asked sweetly. +"Mr. Prescott and Mr. Darrin are friends of ours. We don't like +to hear remarks that cast disrespect in their direction." + +"Oh, I beg your pardon," answered Bert, trying not to be stiff. +But he was ill at ease, leaving the girls very soon after. + +Yet, in his hatred for Dick and Dave, young Dodge resolved upon +a daring stroke. He enlisted Bayliss, and the pair sought to +"cut out" Prescott and Darrin with Laura and Belle. + +Neither Dick nor Dave was in love. Both were too sensible for +that. Both knew that love affairs were for men old enough to +know their own minds. Yet the friendship between the four young +people had been a very proper and wholesome affair, and much pleasure +had been derived on all sides. + +Nowadays, however, Bert and Bayliss managed to be much out and +around Gridley while the football squad was at practice. Almost +daily this pair met Laura and Belle, as though by accident, and +the two young seniors usually managed, without apparent intrusion, +to walk along beside Laura and Belle, often seeing the pair to +the home gate of one or the other. + +"You two fellows want to look out," Purcell warned Dick and Dave, +good-naturedly, one day. "Other fellows are after your sweet-hearts." + +"I wonder how that happened," Dick observed good-humoredly. "I +didn't know we had any sweethearts." + +"What about-----" began Purcell, wondering if he had made a mistake. + +"Please don't drag any girls' names into bantering talk," interposed +Dave, quickly though very quietly. + +So Purcell said no more, and he had, indeed, meant no harm whatever. +But others were noticing, and also talking. High School young +people began to take a very lively interest in the new appearance +of Dodge and Bayliss as escorts of Laura and Belle. + +Then there came one especially golden day of early autumn, when +it seemed as though the warm, glorious day had driven everyone +out onto the streets. Dodge and Bayliss met Laura and Belle, +quite as though by accident, and manifested a rather evident +determination to remain in the company of the girls as long as +possible. + +Finally Laura halted before one of the department stores. + +"Belle, there's an errand you and I had in mind to do in there, +isn't there?" Laura asked. + +"May we have the very great pleasure, then, of your leave to wait +until you are through with your shopping?" spoke up Bert Dodge quickly. + +Laura flushed slightly. Just then more than a dozen of the football +squad, coming back from the field, marching solidly by twos, turned +the corner and came upon this quartette. There were many curious +looks in the corners of the eyes of members of the squad. + +Despite themselves Dick and Dave could feel themselves reddening. + +But Laura Bentley was equal to the emergency. "Here come the +school's heroes---the fellows who keep Gridley's High School banner +flying in the breeze," she laughed pleasantly. + +Both Dodge and Bayliss started to answer, then closed their lips. + +"Won't you please excuse us, boys?" begged Laura, in her usual +pleasant voice. "Here are Dick and Dave, and Belle and I wish +to speak with them." + +From some of the members of the football squad went up a promptly +stifled gasp that sounded like a very distant rumble. + +Dick and Dave, looking wholly rough and ready in their sweaters, +padded trousers and heavy field shoes, stepped out of the marching +formation as though obeying an order. + +The chums looked almost uncouth, compared with the immaculate, +dandyish pair, Dodge and Bayliss. The latter, with so many amused +glances turned their way, could only flush deeply, stammer, raise +their hats and---fade away! + +The lesson was a needed and a remembered one. Laura and Belle +took their afternoon walks in peace thereafter. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +DIES FOOTBALL TEACH REAL NERVE? + + +"Get in there, Ripley! Don't be afraid. It's only a leather +dummy. It can't hurt you! Now, tackle the dummy around the +hips---_hoist_!" + +A laugh went up among the crowd as Fred, crouching low, head down, +sailed in at that tackling dummy. + +Young Ripley's face was red, but he took the coach's stern tone +in good part, for the young man was determined to make good on +the eleven this year. + +"Now, Prescott! Show us that you can beat your last performance! +Imagine the dummy to be a two hundred and twenty pound center!" + +Dick rushed in valiantly, catching the dummy just right. + +"Let go!" called the coach, laughingly. "It isn't a sack of gold!" + +Another laugh went up. This was one of the semi-public afternoons, +when any known well-wisher of Gridley was allowed on the athletic +field to watch the squad at work. + +For half an hour the young men had been working hard, mostly at +the swinging dummy, for Coach Morton wanted much improvement yet +in tackling. + +"Now," continued the coach, in a voice that didn't sound very +loud, yet which had the quality of carrying to every part of the +big field, "it'll be just as well if you fellows don't get the +idea that only swinging leather dummies are to be tackled. The +provisional first and second teams will now line up. Second has +the ball on its own twenty-yard line, and is trying to save its +goal. You fellows on second hustle with all your might to get +the ball through the ranks of the first, or School eleven. Fight +for all you're worth to get that ball on the go and keep it going! +You fellows of the first, or School eleven, I want to see what +you can do with real tackling." + +There was a hasty adjusting of nose-guards by those who wore that +protection. The ball was placed, the quarter-back of the second +eleven bending low to catch it, at the same time comprehending +the signal that sounded briskly. + +The whistle blew; the ball was snapped, and quarter-back darted +to the right, passing the ball. Second's right tackle had been +chosen to receive and break through the School's line. On School's +left, Dick and Ripley raced in together, while second's interference +crashed into the pair of former enemies as right tackle tried to go +through. But Fred Ripley was as much out for team work this day as +any fellow on the field. He made a fast sprint, as though to tackle, +yet meaning to do nothing of the sort. Dick, too, understood. He +let Ripley get two or three feet in the lead. At Ripley, therefore, +the second's interference hurled itself savagely. It was all +done so quickly that the beguiled second had no time to rectify +its blunder; for Fred Ripley was in the center of the squirming, +interfering bunch and Dick Prescott had made a fair, firm, abrupt +tackle. In an instant the ball was "down." Second had gained +less than a yard. + +"Good work!" the coach shouted, after sounding the whistle." +Ripley and Prescott, that was the right sort of team work." + +Again second essayed to get away with the ball. This time the +forward pass was employed---that is to say, attempted. Hudson +and Purcell, by another clever feint, got the ball stopped and +down; third time, and second lost the ball on downs. + +Now School had the ball. As the quarter-back's signals rang out +there was perceptible activity and alertness at School's right +end. As the ball was snapped, School's right wing went through +the needful movements, but Dick Prescott, over at left end, had +the ball. Ripley and Purcell were supporting him. + +Straight into the opposing ranks went Ripley and Purcell, the +rest of the school team supporting. It was team work again. +Dick was halted, for an instant. Then, backed by his supporters, +he dashed through the opposition---on and on! Twice Dick was +on the point of being tackled, but each time his interference +carried him through. He was over second's line---touch-down, +and the whistle sounded shrilly, just a second ahead of cheers +from some hundred on-lookers. + +As Dick came back he limped just a bit. + +"I tell you, it takes nerve, and a lot of it, to play that game," +remarked one citizen admiringly. + +"Nerve? pooh!" retorted his companion. "Just a hoodlum footrace, +with some bumping, and then the whistle blows while a lot of boys + are rolling over one another. The whistle always blows just +at the point when there might be some use for nerve." + +The first speaker looked at his doubtful companion quizzically. + +"Would it take any nerve for you," he demanded, "to jump in where +you knew there was a good chance of your being killed," + +"Yes; I suppose so," admitted the kicker. + +"Well, every season a score or two of football ball players are +killed, or crippled for life." + +"But they're not looking for it," objected the kicker, "or they +wouldn't go in so swift and hard. Real nerve? I'd believe in +that more if I ever heard of one of these nimble-jack racers taking +a big chance with his life off the field, and where there was +no crowd of wild galoots to look on and cheer!" + +"Of course killing and maiming are not the real objects of the +game," pursued the first speaker. "Coaches and other good friends +of the game are always hoping to discover some forms of rules +that will make football safer. Yet I can't help feeling that +the present game, despite the occasional loss of life or injury +to limb, puts enough of strong, fighting manhood into the players +to make the game worth all it costs." + +"I want to see the nerve, and I want to see the game prove its +worth," insisted the kicker. + +Second eleven, though made up of bright, husky boys, was having +a hard time of it. Thrice coach arbitrarily advanced the ball +for second, in order to give that team a better chance with High +School eleven. + +And now the practice was over for the afternoon. The whistle +between coach's lips sounded three prolonged blasts, and the young +players, flushed, perspiring---aching a bit, too---came off the +field. Togs were laid aside and some time was spent under the +shower baths and in toweling. Only a small part of the late crowd +of watchers remained at the athletic field. But the kicker and +his companion were among those who stayed. + +Coach Morton stood for a time talking with some citizens who had +lingered. As most of these men were contributors to the athletic +funds they were anxious for information. + +"Do you consider the prospects good for the team this year?" asked +one man. + +"Yes," replied Mr. Morton promptly. + +"Is the School eleven decided upon in detail?" questioned another. + +"No; of course not, as yet. Each day some of the young men develop +new points---of excellence, or otherwise. The division into School +and second teams, that you saw this afternoon, may not be the +final division. In fact, not more than five or six of the young +men have been definitely picked as sure to make the School team. +We shall have it all decided within a few days." + +"But you're rather certain," insisted another, "that Gridley is +going to have as fine a School team as it has ever had?" + +"It would be going too far to say that," replied Coach Morton +slowly. "The truth is, we never know anything for certain until +we have seen our boys play through the first game. Our judgment +is even more reliable after they've been through the second game." + +By this time, some of the football squad were coming out of locker +rooms, heading across the field to the gate. Coach Morton and +the little group of citizens turned and went along slowly after +them. The kicker was still on hand. + +Just as the boys neared the gate there were heard sounds of great +commotion on the other side of the high board fence. There were +several excited yells, the sound of running feet, and then more +distinct cries. + +"He's bent on killing the officer! Run!" + +"Look out! Here he comes! Scoot!" + +"He's crazy!" + +Then came several more yells, a note of terror in them all. + +Five youngsters of the football squad were so near the gate that +they broke into a run for the open. Coach Morton, too, sped ahead +at full steam, though he was some distance behind the members +of the squad. The citizens followed, running and puffing. + +Once outside, they all came upon a curious sight. One of the +smallest members of Gridley's police force had attempted to stop +a big, red-faced, broad-shouldered man who, coatless and hatless +had come running down the street. + +Two men had gotten in the way of this fellow and had been knocked +over. Then the little policeman had darted in, bent on distinguishing +himself. But the red-faced man, crazed by drink, had bowled over +the policeman and had fallen on top of him. The victor had begun +to beat the police officer when the sight of a rapidly-growing +crowd angered the fellow. + +Leaping up, the red-faced one had glared about him, wondering +whom next to attack, while the officer lay on his back, more than +half-dazed. + +Making up his mind to catch and thrash some one, the red-faced +man came along, shouting savagely. It was just at this moment +that Dick Prescott and Greg Holmes, sprinting fast, came out through +the gateway. + +"Look out, boys! He'll kill you!" shouted one well-meaning citizen +in the background. + +"Will he?" grunted Dick grimly. "Greg, I'll tackle the fellow---you +be ready to fall on him. Head down, now---charge!" + +As though they had darted around the right end of the football +battle line, and had sighted the enemy's goal line, Prescott and +Holmes charged straight for the infuriated fellow. + +"Get outer my way!" roared red-face, turning slightly and running +furiously at them. + +Dick's head was down, but that did not prevent his seeing through +his long hair. + +"Get out of my way, you kid!" gasped the big fellow, halting in +his amazement as he saw this youngster coming straight at him. + +Greg was off the sidewalk, running a few feet out from the gutter + +But Dick sailed straight in. As he came close, red-faced seemed +to feel uneasy about this reckless boy, for the big fellow, holding +his fists so that he could use them, swerved slightly to one side. + +Fifty people were looking on, now, most of them amazed and fearing +for young Prescott. + +But Dick, running still lower, charged straight for his man. +The big fellow, with a bellow, aimed his fists. + +Dick wasn't hit, however. Instead, he grappled with the fellow, +just below the thighs, then straightened up somewhat---all quick +as a flash. + +That big mountain of flesh swayed, then toppled. Red-face went +down, not with a crash, but more after the manner of a collapse. + +As he fell, Greg darted in from the street and fell upon the big +fellow's chest. In another instant young Prescott was a-top of +the fellow. + +"Keep him down, boys!" yelled Coach Morton. + +Just before the coach sprinted to the spot Dave Darrin, then Tom +Reade, and then Tom Purcell, hurled themselves into the fray. + +When the coach arrived he could not find a spot on red-face at +which to take hold. + +The policeman, limping a bit, came up as fast as he could. + +"Will you young gentlemen help me to put these handcuffs on?" +asked the officer, dangling a pair of steel bracelets. + +"Will we?" ejaculated Dave. "Whoop!" + +"Roll the fellow over!" called Dick Prescott. + +With a gleeful shout the squad members rolled red-face over, +dragging his powerful arms behind his back. There was a scuffle, +but Coach Morton helped. A minute more and the handcuffs had been +snapped in place. + +In the eyes of the recent kicker, back on the field, there now +appeared a gleam of something very much akin to enthusiasm. + +"What do you say, now?" asked that man's companion. "Though, +of course, Prescott and Holmes knew that help wasn't far off." + +"It doesn't make any difference," retorted the recent kicker. +"Either boy might have been killed by that big brute before the +help could have arrived." + +"Then does football teach nerve?" + +"It certainly must!" agreed the recent kicker. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +DICK, LILE CAESAR, REFUSES THE CROWN + + +A few days later the members of the school team, and the substitutes, +had been announced. Then the men who had made the team came together +at the gymnasium. + +Who was to be captain of the eleven? + +For once there seemed to be a good deal of hanging back. + +If there were any members of the team who believed themselves +supremely fitted to lead, at least they were not egotistical enough +to announce themselves. + +There was a good deal of whispering during the five minutes before +Mr. Morton called them to order. Some of the whisperers left +one group to go over to another. + +"Now, then, gentlemen!" called Coach Morton. "Order, please!" + +Almost at once the murmuring stopped. + +"Before we can go much further," continued the coach, "it will +be necessary to decide upon a captain. I don't wish to have the +whole voice in the matter. If you are to follow your captain +through thick and thin, in a dozen or more pitched football battles, +it is well that you should have a leader who will possess the +confidence of all. Now, whom do you propose for the post of captain? +Let us discuss the merits of those that may be proposed." + +Just for an instant the murmuring broke out afresh. + +Then a shout went up: + +"Purcell!" + +But that young man shook his head. + +"Prescott!" shouted another. + +Dick, too, shook his head. + +"Purcell! Purcell!" + +"Now, listen to me a moment, fellows!" called Purcell, standing +very straight and waving his arms for silence. "I don't want +to be captain. I had the honor of leading the baseball nine last +season." + +"No matter! You'll make a good football captain!" + +"Not the best you can get, by any means," insisted Purcell. "I +decline the honor for that reason, and also because I don't want +the responsibility of leading the eleven." + +"Prescott!" shouted three or four of the squad at once. + +Purcell nodded his head encouragingly. + +"Yes; Prescott, by all means! You can't do better." + +"Yes, you can! And you fellows know it!" shouted Dick. + +His face glowed with pleasure and pride, but he tried to show, +by face, voice and gesture, that he didn't propose to take the +tendered honor. + +"Prescott! Prescott!" came the insistent yell. + +Above the clamor Coach Morton signaled Dick to come forward to the +platform. + +"Won't you take it, Prescott?" inquired the coach. + +"I've no right to, sir." + +"Then tell the team why you think so." + +As soon as coach had secured silence Dick, with a short laugh, +began: + +"Fellows, I don't know whether you mean it all, or whether you're +having a little fun with me. But-----" + +"No, no! We mean it! Prescott for captain! No other fellow +has done as much for Gridley High School football!" + +"Then I'll tell you some reasons, fellows, why I don't fit the +position," Dick went on, speaking easily now as his self-confidence +came to him. "In the first place, I'm a junior, and this is my +first year at football. Now, a captain should be a whole wagon-load +in the way of judgment. That means a fellow who has played in +a previous season. For that reason, all other things being equal, +the captain should be one of the seniors who played the gridiron +game last year." + +"You'll do for us, Prescott!" came the insistent call. + +"For another thing," Dick went on composedly, "the captain should +be a man who plays center, or close to it. Now, I'm not heavy +enough for anything of that sort. In fact, I understand I'm cast +for left tackle or left end---probably the latter. So, you see, +I wouldn't be in the right part of the field. I don't deny that +I'd like to be captain, but I'd a thousand times rather see Gridley +win." + +"Then who can lead us to victory" demanded Dave Darrin briskly. + +Dick promptly. "He's believed to be our best man for center. +He played last year; he knows more fine points of the game than +any of us juniors can. And he has the judgment. Besides, he's +a senior, and it's his last chance to command the High School +eleven." + +"If Wadleigh'll take it, I'm for him," spoke Dave Darrin promptly. + +Henry Wadleigh, or "Hem," as he was usually called, was turning +all the colors of the rainbow. Yet he looked pleased and anxious. + +There was just one thing against Wadleigh, in the minds of Hudson +and some of the others. He was a boy of poor family. He belonged +to what the late but routed "soreheads" termed "the mockers." +But he was an earnest, honest fellow, a hard player and loyal +to the death to his school. + +"Any other candidates?" asked Coach Morton. + +There was a pause of indecision. There were a few other fellows +who wanted to captain the team. Why didn't some of their friends +put them in nomination? + +Dick & Co. formed a substantial element in the team. They were +for "Hen" Wadleigh, and now Tom Reade spoke: + +"I move that Wadleigh be considered our choice for captain." + +"Second the motion," uttered Dan Dalzell, hastily. + +Coach Morton put the proposition, which was carried. Wadleigh +was chosen captain, subject to the approval of the Athletics Committee +of the alumni, which would talk it over in secret with Coach Morton. + +And now the team was quickly made up. Wadleigh was to play center. +Dick was to play left end, with Dave for left tackle. Greg Holmes +went over to right tackle, with Hazelton right guard. Dan Dalzell +was slated as substitute right end, while Tom Reade was a "sub" +left tackle. + +Fred Ripley was put down as a substitute for left end. As one +who kept in such close training as did Prescott he was not likely +to miss many of the big games, and Fred's chances for playing +in the big games was not heavy. Yet Ripley was satisfied. Even +as a "sub," he had "made" the High School eleven. + +"I think, gentlemen," declared Mr. Morton, in dismissing the squad, +"that we have as good a team to put forward this year as Gridley +has ever had. The only disquieting feature of the season is +the report, coming to us, that many of the rival schools have, +this year, better teams in the field than they have ever had before. +So we've got to work---well like so many animated furies. Remember, +gentlemen, 'coldfeet' never won a football season." + +Bayliss and Dodge when they heard the news, were much disgusted. +They had hoped that subs. Instead, Dick and three of his cronies +had been put in Gridley's first fighting line, only two of the +redoubtable six being on the sub list. + +School and second teams, being now sharply defined, fell to playing +against each other as hard and as cleverly as they could. + +Wadleigh's choice as captain was confirmed by the Athletics Committee. + +"But I'd never have had the chance, Prescott, old fellow, if it +hadn't been for you," "Hen" protested gratefully. "Dick, I won't +forget your great help!" + +"I didn't do anything for you, Hen," Prescott retorted, with one +of his dry smiles. + +"You didn't?" gasped Wadleigh. + +"No, sir! I did it for the school. I wanted to see our team +have the best possible captain and the winning eleven!" + +Bert and Bayliss happened to be passing the gymnasium when they +heard of the selection of Wadleigh. + +"Bert," whispered Bayliss, "I believe you're at least half a man!" + +"What are you driving at?" demanded Dodge. + +"We owe Dick Prescott a few. If you're with me we'll see if +his season on the gridiron can't be made a farce and a fizzle." + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +BERT DODGE "STARTS SOMETHING" + + +As always happens the schedule of the fall's games was changed +somewhat at the last moment. + +In the first change there was a decided advantage. Wrexham withdrawing +its challenge almost at the last, Coach Morton took on Welton +High School for the first game of the season. + +Now, Welton must have played for no other reason than to gratify +a weak form of vanity, for there were few High School teams in +the state that had cause to dread Welton High School. + +For Gridley, however, the game served a useful purpose. It solidified +Captain Wadleigh's team into actual work. The score was 32 to +0, in favor of Gridley. However, as Dick phrased it, the practice +against an actual adversary, for the first time in the season, +was worth at least three hundred to nothing. + +"But don't you fellows make a mistake," cautioned Captain Wadleigh. +"Don't get a notion that you've nothing bigger than Welton to +tackle this year. Next Saturday you've got to go up against +Tottenville, and there's an eleven that will make you perspire." + +Coach Morton had Tottenville gauged at its right value. During +the few days before the game he kept the Gridley boys steadily +at work. The passing and the signal work, in particular, were +reviewed most thoroughly. + +"Remember, the pass is going to count for a lot," Mr. Morton warned +them. "You can't make a weight fight against Tottenville, for +those fellows weigh a hundred and fifty pounds more, to the team, +than you do. They're savage, swift, clever players, too, those +Tottenville youths. What you take away from them you'll have +to win by strategy." + +So the Gridley boys were drilled again and again in all the special +points of field strategy that Coach Morton knew or could invent. + +Yet one of the best things that Mr. Morton knew, and one that +always characterized Gridley, was the matter of confidence. + +Captain Wadleigh's young men were made to feel that they were +going to win. They did not underestimate the enemy, but they +were going to win. That was well understood by them all. + +Now, in the games of sheer strategy much depends upon nimble ends. + +Dick Prescott, in particular, was coached much in private, as +well as on the actual gridiron. + +"Keep yourself in keen good shape, Mr. Prescott," Mr. Morton insisted. +"We need your help in scalping Tottenville next Saturday." + +As the week wore along Mr. Morton and Captain Wadleigh became +more and more pleased with themselves and with their associates. + +"I don't see how we can fail tomorrow," said Mr. Horton, quietly, +to "Hen" Wadleigh, just after the School and the second teams +had been dismissed. + +It was not much after half-past three. Practice had been brief, +in order that none of the players might be used up. + +"Prescott, in especial, is showing up magnificently," replied +Wadleigh. "He and Darrin are certainly wonders at their end of +the line." + +"You must use them all you can tomorrow, and yet don't make them +fight the whole battle," replied Coach Morton. "Save them for +the biggest emergencies." + +"I'll be careful," promised Wadleigh. + +Dick and Dave walked back into the city, instead of taking a car. + +"How are you feeling, Dick?" asked Dave. + +"As smooth as silk," Prescott replied. + +"I don't believe I've ever been in such fine condition before," +replied Dave. + +"That's mighty good, for I have an idea that the captain means +to use us all he can tomorrow." + +"Oh, Tottenville is as good as beaten, then," laughed Dave, with +all the Gridley confidence. + +"I'd like to know just how strong Tottenville is on its right end of +the line," mused Prescott. + +"I don't care how strong they are," retorted Darrin, with a laugh. +"You and I are not going to use strength; we're going to rely upon +brains---Coach Morton's brains, though, to be sure." + +The two chums separated at the corner of the side street on which +stood the Prescott bookstore and home. Dave hurried home to attend +to some duties that he knew were awaiting him. + +Dick, whistling, strolled briskly on. He saw Dodge and Bayliss +on the other side of the street, but did not pay much attention +to them until they crossed just before Dick had reached his own +door. + +"There's the mucker," muttered Bayliss, in a tone intentionally +loud enough for the young left end to overhear. + +"I won't pay any attention to them," thought Dick, with an amused +smile. "I can easily understand what they're sore about. I'd +feel angry myself if I had been left off the team." + +"Why do fellows like that need an education?" demanded Dodge, +in a slightly louder tone, as the pair came closer. + +Still Dick Prescott paid no heed. He started up the steps, fumbling +for his latch key as he went. + +"You faker! You mucker!" hissed Bayliss, now speaking directly +to the young left end. + +This was so palpable that Dick could not well ignore it. Dropping +the key back into his pocket, he turned to stare at the two +"sorehead" chums. + +"Eh?" he asked, with a quiet laugh. + +"Yes; I meant you!" hissed Bayliss. + +"Oh, well," grinned Dick, "your opinions have never counted for +much in the community, have they?" + +"Shut up, you ignorant hound!" warned Bayliss belligerently. + +"Too bad," retorted Dick tantalizingly. "Of course, I understand +what ails you. You were left off the High School team, and I +was not. But that is your own fault, Bayliss. You could have +made the team if you hadn't been foolish." + +"Don't insult me with your opinions fellow!" cried Bayliss, growing +angrier every instant. At least, he appeared to be working him +self up into a rage. + +"Oh, I don't care anything about your opinions, and I have no +anxiety to spring mine on you," retorted Dick, in an indifferent +voice. Once more he fumbled for his latch key. + +"You haven't any business talking with gentlemen, anyway," sneered +Bert Dodge. + +Dick flushed slightly, though he replied, coolly: + +"As it happens, just at present I am not!" + +"What do you mean by that?" flared Bert. + +"Oh, you know, you don't care anything about my opinions," laughed +Dick. "Let us drop the whole subject. I don't care particularly, +anyway, about being seen talking with you two." + +"Oh, you don't?" cried Bayliss, in a voice hoarse with rage. + +In almost the same breath Bert Dodge hurled an insult so pointed +and so offensive that Dick's ruddy cheek went white for an instant. + +Back into his pocket he dropped the latch key, then stepped swiftly +down before his tormentor. + +"Dodge," he cried warningly, "take back the remark you just made. +Then, after that, you can take your offensive presence out of my +sight!" + +"I'll take nothing back!" sneered the other boy. + +"Then you'll take this!" retorted Dick, very quietly, in a cold, +low voice. + +Prescott's fist flew out. It was not a hard blow, but it landed +on the tip of Bert Dodge's nose. + +"You cur!" cried Dodge chokingly. "Wait until I get my coat off." + +"No; keep it on; I'm going to keep mine on," retorted Prescott. +"Guard yourself, man!" + +"Jump in, Bayliss! We'll thump his head off!" gasped Dodge, with +almost a sob in his voice, to was so angry. + +Bayliss would have been nothing loath to "jump in." But, just +as Dick Prescott, after calling "guard," aimed his second blow +at Bert, Fred Ripley, Purcell and "Hen" Wadleigh all hurried up +to the scene. + +For Bayliss to be caught fighting two-to-one would have resulted +in a quick thrashing for him. So Bayliss stood back. + +"Bad blood, is there?" asked Wadleigh, as the new arrivals hurried +up. + +"Prescott, after insulting Bert, flew at him," retorted Bayliss, +panting some with the effort at lying. + +Dodge was now standing well back. He had parried three of Dick's +blows, but had not yet taken the offensive. As Dodge was a heavier +man, and not badly schooled in fistics, Dick had the good sense +to go at this fight coolly, taking time to exercise his judgment. + +"What's it all about?" demanded Wadleigh. + +Just for an instant Bayliss felt himself stumped. Then, all of a +sudden, an inspiration in lying came to him. + +"Prescott got ugly because the Dodges never paid that thousand-dollar +reward," declared Bayliss. + +Dick heard, and with his eye still on Dodge, shouted out: "That's +not true, Bayliss. You know you are not telling the truth!" + +Bayliss doubled his fists, and would have struck Prescott down +from behind, but Wadleigh, who was a big and powerful fellow, +caught Bayliss by his left arm, jerking him back. + +"Now, just wait a bit, Bayliss," advised "Hen," moderately. "From +what I know of Prescott I'm not afraid but that he'll give you +satisfaction presently---if you want it." + +"You bet he'll have to!" hissed Bayliss. + +"If Prescott loses the argument he has on now," added Purcell, +significantly, "I fancy he has friends who will take his place +with you, Bayliss." + +Then all turned to watch the fight, which was now passing the +stage of preliminary caution. + +Several boys and men had run down from Main Street. Now, more +than a score of spectators were crowding about. + +"Hurrah!" piped up one boy from the Central Grammar School." +The mucker bantam against the 'sorehead' lightweight!" + +There was a laugh, but Bert Dodge didn't join in it, for, after +receiving two glancing, blows on the chest, he now had his right +eye closed by Dick's hard left. + +The next instant the bewildered Dodge received a blow that sent +him down to the sidewalk. + +"I think I've paid you back, now," Prescott remarked quietly. + +At this moment Mr. Prescott, hearing the noise from the back of +his bookstore, came to the door. + +"What is the trouble, Richard?" inquired his parent. + +Dick stepped over to his father, repeating, in a low voice, the +insult that Dodge had hurled at him. + +"You couldn't have done anything else, then!" declared the elder +Prescott, fervently; and this was a good deal for Dick's father, +quiet, scholarly and peace-loving, to say. + +Bert and Bayliss walked sullenly away amid the jeers of the onlookers. +Once out of their sight, Bert, fairly grinding his teeth, said: + +"Bayliss, I'll have my revenge yet on that mucker Prescott---" +and then, as if struck by a sudden thought, he added savagely: + +"The Tottenville game's tomorrow---you know?" + +"Yes?" said Bayliss inquiringly. + +"Well, wait till tomorrow afternoon, and I'll take the conceit +out of the miserable cur---just you wait." + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE "STRATEGY" OF A SCHOOL TRAITOR + + +"Rah! rah! _Gri-i-idley_!" + +Again and again the whole of the rousing, inspiring High School +yell smote the air. + +It was but a little after noon on Saturday. + +It seemed as though two thirds of the school, including most of +the girls, had come down to the railway station to see the High +School eleven off on its way to Tottenville. That city was some +thirty miles away from Gridley, but there was a noon express train +that went through in forty minutes. + +Coach Morton and Captain Wadleigh had rounded up the whole of +the school team. All of the subs were there. The coach and members +of the team were at no expense in the matter, since their expenses +were to be paid out of the gate receipts of the home eleven. + +To many of the boys and girls of Gridley High School, however, +the affair bore a different look. The round trip by rail would +cost each of these more than a dollar, with another fifty cents +to pay for a seat on the grand stand at Tottenville. + +Hence, despite the fine representation of High School young folks +at the railway station, not all of them were so fortunate as to +look forward to going to the game. + +In addition to those of the young people who could go, there were +more than three hundred grown-ups who had bought tickets. The +railroad company, having been notified by the local agent, had +added a second section to the noon express. + +And now they waited, enthusiasm finding vent in volleys of cheers +and the school war-whoop. + +Dick Prescott and his chums stood at one end of the platform. Nor +were they alone. Many admirers had gathered about them. Laura +Bentley and Belle Meade, who were going with the rest to Tottenville, +were chatting with Dick and Dave. Each of the girls carried the +Gridley High School colors to wave during the expected triumphs of +the afternoon. + +"I'm glad you're playing today," Laura almost whispered to young +Prescott. + +"Why?" smiled Dick + +"Why, I believe you're one of those fortunate people who always +carry their mascot with them," rejoined Miss Bentley earnestly. +"With you there, Dick, I feel absolutely certain that even Tottenville +must go down in the dust. Gridley will bring back the score---and +not a tied score, either." + +"I certainly hope I am as big a mascot, or possess as big a mascot +as you seem to believe," laughed young Prescott. + +"You and Dave are each other's mascots," declared Belle Meade, +with a laugh. "I remember that last year when you were both on +the baseball nine Gridley never lost a game in which you and Dave +both played." + +"Nor did the nine lose any other game," returned Dick, "though +there were some games when Dave and I weren't on the batting list. +The nine didn't lose a game last season, Miss Belle, and had +only one tied score." + +"Anyway," declared Laura, with great conviction, "it all comes +back to this---that Gridley can't lose today because both Prescott +and Darrin are to play." + +"And I believe, young ladies, that you're both much nearer to +the truth than you have any idea of. In today's game a great +deal does depend on Prescott and Darrin." + +It was Captain "Hen" Wadleigh, who, passing to the rear of the +group, had overheard Laura's remark, and had made this addition +to her prophecies. + +"Here comes the train!" yelled one youth, who was fortunate enough +to have a ticket for the day. + +Soon after the sound of the whistle had been heard the express +rolled in. But this was the first section of the regular train. +By some effort the football crowd was kept off the train. Soon +after the second section of the train was sighted as it rolled +toward the station. + +"Team assemble!" roared Captain Wadleigh. + +There was a rush of husky, mop-headed youths in his direction. + +Just then a hand rested on Dick's arm. + +"Let me speak with you, just a moment Prescott." + +As Dick turned he found himself looking into the face of Hemingway, +plan clothes man to Chief Coy of the Police department. + +"I'm awful sorry, lad, but-----" began Hemingway slowly, in a +tone of the most genuine regret. + +Dick's face blanched. He scented bad news instantly, though he +could not imagine what it was. + +"Anyone sick---any accident at home?" asked the young left end. + +"Team aboard, first day coach behind the smoker!" roared Captain +Wadleigh, and the fellows made a rush. + +"The truth is," confessed Hemingway, "I've a war-----" + +Dick saw light in an instant. + +"Oh, that wretched Dodge? He has-----" + +"Sworn out a warrant for your arrest," nodded Hemingway. + +Laura and Belle did not hear or see this. They were hurrying +rearward along the train. + +Few of the football fellows saw the trouble, for they were busy +boarding the car named by Captain Wadleigh. + +Dave Darrin was the only one to pay urgent heed. + +"See here, Hemingway," began Dave, "Dick will come back---you +know that. He's desperately needed today. Won't it do just as +well-----" + +"No," broke in the plain-clothes man, reluctantly. "I'd have +done that if possible, but Dodge's father put the warrant in my +hand and insisted." + +"He?" echoed Darrin, bitterly. "The very man that Dick and I +rescued when he was out of his head and in the clutches of scoundrels +He? Oh, this is infamous---or crazy!" + +"I know it is," nodded Officer Hemingway sympathetically. "But +what am I to do when-----" + +"Hustle aboard, there, you Prescott and Darrin!" roared Captain +Wadleigh's voice from an open window. + +"You hear, Hemingway?" urged Dave. + +"Yes; but I can't help it," sighed the policeman. + +"We're not going---can't-----" fluttered Darrin. His voice was +low, but it reached the captain of the eleven. + +"What's that?" roared Wadleigh, making a dash for the door of +the car. "Keep your seats, you other fellows. I-----" + +"You go, Dave---you must!" commanded Dick. "Hurry! The train +is starting. Hustle! Play for both of us." + +Dick gave his chum a push that was compelling. Dave yielded, +boarding the step as the end of the car went by him. + +"What-----" began Wadleigh, breathlessly. + +"I'll explain," panted Darrin angrily. + +The train was now in full motion. + +"Hey, dere! Stop dot train, quick! Me! I am not off board, yet!" + +It was Herr Schimmelpodt, hot, perspiring and gasping, who now +raced upon the platform. For one of his weight, combined with +his lack of nimbleness, it was hazardous to attempt to board the +moving train. + +Yet Herr Schimmelpodt made a wild dash for the train. He would +have been mangled or killed, had not Officer Hemingway caught +the anxious German and pulled him back. + +"Hey, you! Vot for you do dot?" screamed Herr Schimmelpodt. +"Hey? Answer me dot vun, dumm-gesicht!" (Foolish-faced one.) + +"I did it to save you from going under the wheels," retorted Officer +Hemingway dryly. + +"Und now I don't go me by dot game today!" groaned Herr Schimmelpodt. +"Me! I dream apout dot game all der veek, und now I don't see +me by it." + +"But, man-----" + +"Hal's maul." (Literally' "Shut your mouth!") + +"Me! Und I Couldn't lose dot game for ein dollar!" glared the +prosperous German. + +He stared after the departed second section, from the open windows +of which fluttered or wildly waved many a banner; for few of the +Gridley crowd had yet discovered that one of the most prized members +of the team had been left behind. + +Herr Schimmelpodt it was, who, a wealthy retired contractor, had +found his second youth in his enthusiasm over the High School +baseball nine the season before. + +Though thrifty enough in most matters, the German had become a +liberal contributor to the High School athletic fund, to the great +dismay of his good wife, who feared that his new outdoor fads +would yet land them both in the poorhouse. + +"Vot you doing here, Bresgott?" demanded Herr Schimmelpodt, turning +upon the young prisoner. "Vy you ain't by dot elefen? How dey going +to vin bis you are behint left?" + +"You have company in your misery, sir," said Officer Hemingway. +"I'm awfully sorry to say that Dick Prescott can't see today's +game, either. It's a whopping shame, but sometimes the law is +powerless to do right." + +"What foolishness are you talking mit, vonce alretty?" demanded +Herr Schimmelpodt, looking bewildered. + +"I've just been arrested, on a false charge of assault," Dick +stated quietly. + +"You? Und you don't blay by der game yet' By der beard of Charlemagne," +howled Herr Schimmelpodt excitedly, "ve see apoud dot!" + +Digging down into a trouser's pocket this enthusiastic old High +School "rooter" brought up a roll of bills almost as large around +as a loaf of bread. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +A "FACER" FOR THE PLOTTER + + +"What are you going to do with all that wallpaper, Mr.Schimmelpodt?" +laughed Officer Hemingway. + +"Me? I gif bail, don't I?" demanded the German. + +"Well, you can't do it here. That's a matter to be fixed in court." + +"Und dot train going by a mile a minute, I bet you!" gasped the +German ruefully. + +"Come along, lad," urged Hemingway gently. "On Saturdays court +opens at one o'clock. We'll get right up there and see this matter +through." + +"I bet you've see dis matter through---right through someone, +ain't it?" exploded Herr Schimmelpodt, ranging himself on the +other side of the young prisoner. + +As they went along the German, using all his native and acquired +shrewdness, quickly got at the bottom of the matter. + +In the meantime indignant Dave Darrin was telling all he knew +about the business to an indignant lot of High School youngsters +in the day coach. + +"You keep your upper eyebrow stiff, Bresgott," urged the warm-hearted +German. "I see you through by dis business. Don't you worry." + +"Thank you, but it isn't the arrest that is really bothering me," +Prescott answered. "It's the feet that I'm fooled out of playing +this afternoon. And Darrin and I had been trained for so many +special tricks for today's game that I'm almost afraid my absence +will make a difference in the score. But, Herr Schimmelpodt, +if you want to help me, do you really mind dropping in at the +store and telling my father, so that he can come down to the court +room? Yet please be careful not to scare Dad. He has a horror +of courts and criminal law." + +"I bet you I do der chob---slick," promised the German, and hurried +away. + +"There goes a man that's all right, from his feet up to the top +of his head," declared Officer Hemingway. + +On the streets Dick's appearance with Hemingway attracted little +notice. Folks were used to seeing the High School reporter of +"The Blade" walking with this policeman-detective. The few who +really did notice merely wondered why Dick Prescott was not on +his way to the Tottenville gridiron today. + +When Hemingway and his prisoner reached the court room there were +only two or three loungers there, for it was still some minutes +before the time for the assembling of the court. + +Presently Bert Dodge and his friend, Bayliss, dropped in. They +glanced at the young left end with no attempt to conceal their +feelings of triumph. Bert looked much the worse for wear. + +Dick returned their looks coolly, but without defiance. He was +angry only that he should have been cheated of his right to play +in that big game. + +Then in came the elder Dodge, only just back from a sanitarium. +Beside him walked Lawyer Ripley, who immediately came over to +Dick, just before Herr Schimelpodt and Dick's father entered the +room hastily. + +"Prescott," began the old lawyer, sitting down beside the young +player, and speaking in a low tone, "I've just been called into +this matter, as I'm the Dodge family lawyer. Had my advice been +asked I would have demanded much more investigation. From what +knowledge I have of you, I don't regard you as one who is likely +to commit an unprovoked assault. Have you any objection to stating +your side of the case bearing in mind, of course, the fact that +I'm the Dodge lawyer." + +"Not the least in the world," Dick replied promptly. + +It was just at this moment that Herr Schimmelpodt and the elder +Prescott came hastening into the room. + +Bert Dodge and Bayliss looked over uneasily, several times, to +where Lawyer Ripley and the young prisoner sat. Dick's father +stood by in silence. He already knew his son's version of the +affair of the day before. Herr Schimmelpodt didn't say anything, +but sat down, breathing heavily. + +Then the clerk of the court and two court officers came in. Justice +Vesey entered soon after and took his seat on the bench. + +"The case of Dodge versus Prescott---I mean, the people against +Prescott, your honor, is the only thing on the docket this afternoon," +explained the clerk. + +"Is the case ready" inquired the justice mildly. + +"I will ask just a moment's delay, your, Honor," announced Lawyer +Ripley, rising. "I wish a moment's conference with my principals." + +The court nodding, Mr. Ripley crossed the room, engaging in earnest +whispered conversation with the Dodges, father and son. + +While this was going on a telegraph messenger boy entered. Espying +Dick, he went over and handed him a yellow envelope. Dick tore +it open. It was a telegram sent by Dave Darrin, on the way to +Tottenville, and read: + +"Fred Ripley said he heard insult offered you by Dodge yesterday. +Get case adjourned to Monday and Ripley will testify in your +behalf." + +Smiling, Dick passed the message to his father. Mr. Prescott, +after scanning the telegram, rose gravely, crossed the room and +handed the slip of paper to Lawyer Ripley. + +"If the court please, we are now ready with this case," announced +Lawyer Ripley. + +"Proceed, counselor. Mr. Clerk, you will swear such witnesses +as are to be called." + +"If the court please," hastily interjected Mr. Ripley. "I don't +believe it is going to be necessary to call any witnesses. With +the court's permission I will first make a few explanations." + +"This case, your Honor, is one in which Albert Dodge, a minor, +with the consent of his father, has preferred a charge of aggravated +assault against Richard Prescott, a minor. + +"That there was a fight, and that said Prescott did vigorously +assault young Dodge, there is no doubt. Prescott himself does +not deny it. But I am satisfied, if it please the court, that +the case is one in which, on the evidence, young Prescott is bound +to be discharged. I am satisfied that young Prescott had abundant +provocation for the assault he committed. Further, we have received +apparently satisfactory assurance by wire that a witness is prepared +to testify to conduct and speech, on the part of young Dodge, +that would justify an assault, or, as the boys call it, 'a fight.' +Now, your Honor, if the prisoner, Prescott, through his father, +will agree to hold the elder Dodge blameless in the matter of +civil damages on account of this arrest, I shall move to have +the case dismissed." + +"Will you so agree, Mr. Prescott," inquired the court, glancing +at Dick's father. + +"Yes," agreed the elder Prescott, "though I must offer my opinion +that this arrest has been a shameful outrage." + +"My client, the elder Dodge-----" began Lawyer Ripley, in a low +voice. + +"Case dismissed," broke in Justice Vesey briskly, and Mr. Ripley +did not finish his remark. + +Bowing to the court, Dick rose, picked up his hat and started +out with his father. + +But once outside Herr Schimmelpodt caught them both by the arm. + +"Vait!" he commanded. "I much vant to hear me vot Lawyer Ripley +haf to say to dot young scallavag." + +"Are you talking about me?" demanded Bert Dodge, flushingly hotly, +for, just at that moment, he turned out of the court room into +the corridor. + +"Maybe," assented Herr Schimmelpodt. + +"Then stuff a sausage in your Dutch mouth, and be quiet," retorted +Bert impudently. + +"Young man, if your father hat not enough gontrol of er you, den +I vill offer him dot I teach you manners by a goot spanking," +replied Herr Schimmelpodt stiffly. + +"Bert, you will be silent before your elders," ordered Mr Dodge. +"You have come close enough to getting me into trouble today. +Had I understood the whole story of the fight, as I do now, I +never would have backed your application for a warrant." + +If you meet with any rebuke from young Prescott's friends, take +it in meekness, for you richly deserve censure." + +"As you are only a boy, Bert, and I am your father's lawyer," +broke in Mr. Ripley, even more sternly, "I have used whatever +powers of persuasion I may have to have this case ended mildly. +The Prescotts might have sued your father for a round sum in +damages for false arrest. And, if you and Bayliss had sworn falsely +as to the nature and causes of the fight, you might both have +been sent away to the reformatory on charges of perjury. Remember +that the law against false swearing applies to boys as much as +it does to men. And now, good day, Mr. Dodge. I trust you will +be able to convince your son of his wrongdoing." + +However, the elder Dodge, despite his momentary sternness, was +not a parent who exercised much influence over his son. Half +an hour later Bert had out the family runabout, making fast time +toward Tottenville. + +"Bert," said Bayliss, rather soberly, "I'm inclined to think that +Lawyer Ripley was good enough to get us out of a fearful scrape." + +"That's what he's paid for," sniffed Bert "He's my father's lawyer." + +"Then I'm glad your father has a good lawyer. Whew! It makes +me sick when I stop to think that we might have been trapped into +giving---er---prejudiced testimony, and that then we might have +been shipped off to the reformatory until we're of age!" + +"Ain't Fred Ripley the sneak, though!" ejaculated Bert angrily. +"The idea of him standing ready to 'queer' a case against his +father's clients! I thought Fred had more class and caste than +to go against his own crowd for the sake of a mere mucker!" + +"Well, the thing turned out all right, anyway," muttered Bayliss. +"We're off in time to see the game." + +"And that's more than Dick Prescott will do today," laughed Bert +sullenly. "He can't catch a train to Tottenville, now, in time +for the game." + +"If Gridley loses the game today," hinted Bayliss, "I suppose +the fellows will all feel that it was because Prescott didn't +go along. Then they'll all feel like roasting us." + +"Oh, bother what the High School ninnies think---or say," grunted +Bert. + +Fifteen minutes later there was a loud popping sound. Then a +tire flattened out, so that it became necessary for the young +men to get out and busy themselves with putting on another tire. +At this task they did not succeed very well until, finally, another +automobilist came along and gave the boys effective help. + +So it was that, by the time the pair reached Tottenville, housed +the car at a garage, and reached Tottenville's High School athletic +field, the game was well on. + +As the two young men reached the grand stand the Gridley contingent +were on their feet, breathless. + +Gridley had the ball down to the ten-yard line from Tottenville's +goal. Captain Wadleigh's signals were ringing out, crisp and +clear. A whistle sounded. + +Then the ball was put swiftly into play. Tottenville put up a +sturdy resistance against Gridley's left end. + +Dave Darrin had the ball, and appeared to be trying to break through +the Tottenville line, well backed by Gridley's interference. + +Of a sudden there was a subtle, swift pass, and Gridley's left +end darted along, almost parallel with the ten-yard line, then +made a dashing cut around and past Tottenville. + +Two of the home team tackled that left end, but he shook them +off. In another instant----- + +"Touchdown!" yelled the frantic Gridley boosters. + +"Touchdown! Oh, you Darrin! Oh, you Prescott!" + +Bert Dodge rubbed his eyes. + +"Prescott?" he muttered. + +"Blazes, but that is Prescott!" faltered Bayliss, with a sickly +grin. + +"How did he ever get over here in time to play?" demanded Bert +Dodge. + +Herr Schimmelpodt could have told. The stout, sport-loving old +contractor had parted with some of his greenbacks to a chauffeur +who had put Dick and himself over the long road to Tottenville. +And the young left end was playing, today, in his finest form! + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +"THE CATTLE CAR FOR YOURS" + + +It was Dave Darrin who kicked the goal. This ran the score up +to six to nothing in Gridley's favor. + +It was the first scoring in a game that had begun by looking all +bad for Gridley. + +The Tottenville High School boys were bigger than the visitors +and fully as speedy. + +In fact, even now, to impartial observers, it looked as though +these six points on the score had been won by what was little +better than a fluke. + +"Gridley can't keep this up," remarked the Tottenville boosters +confidently. "They'll lose their wind and nerve against our fine +line before the game is much older." + +The first half went out with score unchanged. But Captain Wadleigh +did heave a sigh of relief when the time keeper cut in on that +first half. + +"Fellows, look out for the fine points," he warned his fellows, +after they had trotted into quarters. "It'll be craft, not strong +rush, that wins for us today, if anything does." + +"Prescott's here. He and Darrin can put anything over in the +line of craft," laughed Fred Ripley. + +Ripley was in togs, but was not playing. He was on the sub line, +today, awaiting a call in case any player of his team became disabled. + +"Darrin and Prescott are all right," nodded Wadleigh gruffly. +"But they have endurance limits, like other human beings. Don't +rely too much upon any two or three men, fellows. Now, in the +second half"---here Wadleigh lowered his voice---"I'm going to +spare Prescott and Darrin all I can. So you other fellows look +out for hard work." + +Dick's eyes were still flashing. This was not from the fever +of the game, but from the recollection of how narrowly he had +escaped being tricked out of this chance to play today. + +On his arrival, and while dressing before the game, Prescott had +related to the team the mean trick that had been played upon him. +He had also told how the case came out in court. + +"Dodge and Bayliss are traitors to the school!" cried Purcell +indignantly. "We'll have to give 'em the silence!" + +"Hear! Hear!" cried several of the fellows. + +This, in other words, meant that Dodge and Bayliss would be "sent to +Coventry"---shut out from all social contact with the school body +during the remainder of the school year. + +"I think I'm with you, fellows," nodded Captain Wadleigh. "However, +remember that the football team can't settle all school questions. +We'll take this up when we get back to Gridley." + +In the second half it was not long before Gridley did go stale +and tired. But so, too, to the disgust of home boosters, did +the Tottenville High School boys. + +The game became a sheer test of endurance. Gridley, under Wadleigh, +played with a doggedness that made Tottenville put forth all its +strength. + +"Brace up, you lobsters," growled Captain Grant of the home team, +after the whistle had sounded on Tottenville's "down" with the +ball. "Buck the simple Gridley youths. Wade through their line +as if you fellows were going to dinner half an hour late. Don't +let them wind you, or stop you!" + +Tottenville threw all its force into the following plays. Surely, +doggedly, the home boys forced the ball down the gridiron. At +last Gridley was forced to make a safety, thus scoring two points +for their opponents. + +"Don't let that happen again, fellows," urged Wadleigh anxiously. +"Fight for time, but don't throw any two-spots away." + +"Rally, men! Brace! Crush 'em!" ordered Captain Grant. "Seven +minutes left! We've got to score." + +These muttered orders caused a grim smile among the Tottenville +High School boys, for the only way to tie the score would be to +force Gridley to make two more safeties---a hard thing to do against +a crack eleven in seven minutes! + +Dick and Dave Darrin were called into play as soon as the visitors +had the ball in their own hands once more. + +The "trick" signal sounded from quarter-back's lips. + +"One---three---seven---eleven!" + +There was instant, seemingly sly activity on the part of Gridley's +right wing. Those from Gridley who stood on the grand stand thought +that the coming play looked bad in advance. + +"Why don't they use Prescott again?" asked some one anxiously. +"He has been having a vacation." + +Then followed the snap-back. Quarter-back started with the ball, +and it looked as though he would dash for the right. + +The quarter took one step, then wheeled like lightning, and rushed +after Darrin, who already was in swift motion. + +Gridley's whole line switched for the left. + +Tottenville found out the trick after the heaviest fellows in +its line had started for Gridley's right. + +"Oh, Darrin---sprint! Oh, you Prescott!" + +Truly the boosters were howling themselves hoarse. + +There was frenzy on in an instant. + +To the knowing among the watchers there was no chance for Gridley +to rush down on the enemy's goal line, but every yard---every +foot, now---carried the pigskin just so much further from Gridley's +goal line. + +Gridley's interference rushed in solidly about Dave Darrin, as +though to boost him through. + +Dick seemed bent on beating down some of the formation surging +against the visitors. + +Just as the bunch "clumped" Dave Darrin went down. There was +a surge over him, and then Dick Prescott was seen racing as though +for life. + +There was no opposition left---only Tottenville's quarter-back +and the fullback. + +Tottenville's quarter got after fleeting Dick too late, for the +whole movement had been one of startling trickery. + +One Tottenville halfback was too far away to make an obstructing +dash in time. + +In dodging the other halfback Dick dashed on as though not seeing +the fellow. This, however, was all trick. Just in the nick of +time Prescott, still holding the ball, ducked and dodged far to +the left, getting around his man. + +Tottenville's fullback was now the sole hope of the home team. + +Prescott, however, dodged that heavy fellow, also. + +From the Gridley boosters on the grand stand went up a medley +of yells that dinned in the young left end's ears. Panting, all +but fainting, Dick was over the enemy's goal line and he had the +ball down. + +When Dave had emerged from that fruitless clumping he had a broad +grin on his face. He saw that while Dick was not yet over the +goal line, only the fullback was in the way and the fullback +was no match for Dick in the matter of speed. + +Then the yells told the rest. Back came the ball. Captain Wadleigh +nodded to Dave to kick the goal. + +Captain Grant looked utterly wild. He had assured everyone in +Tottenville who had asked him that the Gridley "come ons" would +be eaten alive. And here-----! + +Dave made the kick. After going down in that bunch Darrin was +not at his best. Body and nerves were tired. He failed to kick +the goal. + +Hardly, however, had the two teams been started in a new line-up +when the time keeper did his trick. The game was over. + +That last kick had failed, but who cared? The score was eleven +to two! + +Ere the players could escape from the field the Gridley boosters +were over on the gridiron. + +Dick and Dave were bodily carried to dressing quarters. Wadleigh, +who had shown fine generalship in this stiff game was cheered +until the boosters went hoarse. + +"Gentlemen," cried Coach Morton, raising his voice to its fullest +carrying power as the dressing quarters filled, "it's probably +too early to brag, but I feel that we've got an old-fashioned +Gridley eleven this year." + +"Ask Grant!" + +"Ask anybody in Tottenville!" + +The first yell was sent up by Ripley, the second by another substitute. + +All the Gridley members of the team were excited at the close +of this game. Not even their weariness kept down their spirits. + +Herr Schimmelpodt didn't attempt to enter quarters. He was now +too much of a "sport" to attempt that. But he stood just outside +the door, vigorously mopping his shining, wet face. + +There were two extra places in the German's hired car. Dave, +of course, was asked to fill one of these, and Captain Wadleigh +was invited to take the fifth seat. + +More dejected than ever were Bert Dodge and his chum, Bayliss, +as they slouched away from the grounds. They did not attempt +to invade the gridiron and join in the triumphal procession to +quarters. + +"You can't seem to down that fellow Prescott," muttered Bayliss, +in disgust. "Just as you think you've got him by the throat you +find out that he's sitting on your chest and pulling your hair." + +"Oh, I don't know," growled Dodge sulkily. "He may have his weak +spot, and it may be a very weak spot at that." + +The pair moped along until they reached the garage in which they +had left the runabout. + +Bayliss was standing near the doorway, while Bert inspected the +machinery of the car. + +"Pest! Look out there," muttered Bayliss, stepping back from +the open doorway. + +"What is it?" demanded Bert. "Oh, I see! Old Schimmelpodt brought +the beggar Prescott over here in an auto. That's how the fellow +managed to get into the game, after all. Well, what of it all, +anyway?" + +"That car is running along slowly, and it has a full-sized crowd +in it," muttered Bayliss, going closer to his crony. "Wadleigh, +Prescott and Darrin---and maybe the chauffeur is a thick friend +of theirs." + +"What on earth are you driving at?" demanded Dodge, glancing up. + +"Bert, I don't believe I'm wholly stuck on the scheme of us driving +back to Gridley. There are too many lonely spots along the road. + +"Do you think they'd assassinate us?" jeered Bert. + +"I---I think Wadleigh may have formed the notion of stopping us +and giving us a thrashing," responded Bayliss. + +"Bosh!" snapped Dodge quickly. + +Yet, none the less, he paused and looked thoughtful. + +"There's more than one road to Gridley, old fellow," muttered +Bert uneasily. "You see Schimmelpodt and that mocker didn't pass +us on the way here." + +"But I think they're likely to have guessed our road," persisted +Bayliss. "There was an ugly look on Wadleigh's face, too, as +that car drove past here." + +"But old Schimmelpodt wouldn't stand for anything disorderly +and---unlawful," urged Bert. + +"I don't know about that," retorted Bayliss significantly. "That +old German has gone crazy over High School sports. He might stand +in for 'most anything. You know, he offered your Dad to give you +a spanking this afternoon." + +The thought of Herr Schimmelpodt's big and capable-looking hands +caused Bert to shiver a bit uneasily. Yet he didn't want to +admit that he was scared. He glanced at his watch. + +"We've time to catch the regular train back, I suppose, Bayliss." + +"Let's do it, then," begged the other. + +"Will you pay a chauffeur to take this car home, then?" + +"I'll pay half," volunteered Bayliss eagerly. + +"All right, then; if you're pretty near broke, we'll divide the +cost," agreed Dodge. + +An arrangement was easily made with the owner of the garage. +Then, the charges paid, this pair of cronies, who considered themselves +much better than the usual run of High School boys, hurried over +to the railway station. + +The train was waiting by the time that the pair arrived. Bert +and Bayliss hastily purchased tickets, then boarded the handiest +car. The train proved to contain few people except the Gridley +student body and boosters from that town. + +"Here, what are you fellows doing in here?" angrily demanded Purcell, +as the cronies entered one of the cars. + +"We're going to ride to Gridley, if you've no objections," replied +Bert, with sulky defiance. + +"No, sir; not in this car!" declared Purcell promptly. "Too many +decent people here. The cattle car for yours!" + +"Oh, shut up!" retorted Dodge, trying to shove into a vacant seat. + +But Purcell gripped him and pushed him back. + +"No, siree! Not in here! The cattle car is your number." + +"You-----" + +"We'll pitch you off the train if you have the cheek to try to +ride in this ear," insisted Purcell. + +High School boys, when off on a junket of this kind, are likely to +be as wild as college boys. A score of the Gridley youths now +jumped up. It looked as though there were going to be a riot. + +"Oh, come on," snarled Bayliss, plucking his crony's sleeve. +"We don't want to ride with this truck, anyway." + +Into the next car stamped the two young men, their faces red with +anger and shame. + +"Sneaks!" piped up some one. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +FACING THE "SCHOOL CUT" + + +At the instant of their entrance into the car the air had been +full of merry chatter. + +There were many High School girls in this car, and not many vacant +seats. + +As the word "sneaks" sounded through the car everyone turned around. + +Bert and Bayliss found themselves uncomfortably conspicuous. + +At once all the talk and laughter ceased. Stony silence followed. + +One of the girls was sitting alone in a seat. + +Bayliss, unable to endure the situation any longer, glided forward, +dropping into the vacant place. + +"That seat is engaged," the girl coolly informed him. + +So Bayliss, redder than ever, hurriedly rose. + +Bert had already started for the next car. Bayliss slunk along +after him. + +"Sneaks!" cried some one, as they showed their faces in still +the next car forward. + +Here, too, all the chatter stormed at once. + +Bert, pulling his hat down over his eyes, went hurriedly past +the boys and girls of Gridley, and into the next car. + +Bayliss followed with the fidelity and closeness of a little dog. + +Now, the next car ahead proved to be the smoking car. Here, at +any rate, the despised pair could find safe harborage. + +But one of the men of Gridley, who had followed the football team +this day, and who had got an inkling of the story of the arrest, +removed a cigar from between his lips and pointed an accusing +finger at the boys. + +"See here, you fellows!" he shouted. "This car is exclusively +for men. Can you take a hint?" + +"But we've got to sit somewhere," flashed Bert defiantly. + +"I don't know as that's necessary, either," retorted the Gridley +man. "At least, I don't care if it is. After your dirty little +trick, today, we don't want you in here among men. Do we, neighbors?" + +There were many mutterings, some cat-calls and at least a score +of men rose. + +"You let me alone, you fellows!" yelled Bert Dodge, as he made +a break for the front end of the car. "Don't any of you dare +to get fresh with me!" + +By the time he had reached the front end of the car Bert was almost +sobbing with anger and shame. + +Bayliss had followed, white and silent. + +In the baggage car, to their relief, the sole railway employee +there did not object to their presence. + +Bert and his crony found seats on two trunks side by side. + +"Dodge," whispered Bayliss unsteadily, after the train had pulled +out from Tottenville, "I'm afraid we're in bad with the school +push." + +"Afraid?" sneered Bert. "Man, don't you know it?" + +"Well, it's all your fault---this whole confounded row!" + +"Oh, you're going to play welsher, are you?" sneered Bert. "Humph! +By morning you'll be a full-fledged mucker!" + +"Don't you worry about that," argued Bayliss, though rather stiffly. +"I know my family---and my caste." + +"I should hope so," rejoined Dodge, with just a shade more cordiality. + +Rather than alight at Gridley, and face the whole High School +crowd---for scores who had not been able to meet the expense of +the trip to Tottenville would be sure to be at the station to +meet the victorious team---Bert and Bayliss rode on to the next +station, then got off and walked two miles back to town. + +By Monday morning the punishment of the pair was made complete. + +Bert and Bayliss walked to school together. As they drew near +the grounds both young men felt their hearts beating faster. + +"I wonder if there's anything in for us?" whispered Dodge. + +"Sure to be," responded Bayliss. + +"Well, the fellows had better not try anything too frisky. If +they do, they'll give us a chance to make trouble for 'em!" + +It seemed as though the full count of the student body, boys and +girls, had assembled in the yard this morning. + +All was gay noise until the pair of cronies appeared at the gate. + +Then, swiftly, all the noise died out. + +One could hardly hear even a breath being drawn. + +The silence was complete as Bert and Bayliss, now very white, +stepped into the yard. + +Though not a voice sounded, every eye was turned on the white-faced +pair. + +Bert Dodge's lips moved. He tried to summon us control enough +of his tongue to utter some indifferent remark to his companion. + +But the sound simply wouldn't come. + +After a walk that was only a few yards in distance, yet seemed +only less than a mile in length, the humiliated pair rushed up +the steps, opened the great door and let themselves in. + +At recess neither Bayliss nor Dodge had the courage to appear +outside. As they left school that afternoon they were treated +to the same dose of "silence." + +Tuesday morning neither Dodge nor Bayliss showed up at all at +school. + +On Thursday morning High School readers of "The Blade" were greatly +interested in the following personal paragraph: + +_"Bayliss and Dodge, both of the senior class, High School, have +severed their connection with that institution. It is understood +that the young men are going elsewhere in search of better educational +facilities."_ + +That was all, but it told the boys and girls at Gridley High School +all that they needed to know. + +"That is the very last gasp of the 'sorehead' movement," grinned +Tom Reade, in talking it over with Dan Dalzell. + +"Well, they did the whole trick for themselves," rejoined Dan. +"No one else touched them, or pushed them. They took all the +rope they wanted---and hanged themselves. Now, that pair will +probably feel cheap every time they have to come back to Gridley +and walk the streets." + +"All they had to do was to be decent fellows," mused Tom. "But +the strain of decency proved to be too severe for them." + +In the High School yard that Thursday morning there was one unending +strain of rejoicing. + +Some of the other late "soreheads," who had escaped the full meed +of humiliation---Davis, Cassleigh, Fremont, Porter and others---actually +sighed with relief when they found what they had escaped in the +way of ridicule and contempt. + +"The whole thing teaches us one principle," muttered Fremont to Porter. + +"What is that?" + +"Never tackle the popular idol in any mob. If you can't get along +with him, avoid him---but don't try to buck him!" + +"Humph!" retorted Porter. "If you mean Prescott and his gang---Dick +& Co., as the fellows call them---I can follow one part of your +advice by avoiding them. I never did and never could like that +mucker Prescott!" + +The fact of interest to Dick would have been that he appeared +to enjoy the respect of at least ninety-five per cent. of the +student body of the High School. + +Surely that percentage of popularity is enough for anyone. The +fellow can get along without the approbation of a few "soreheads"! + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +"PRIN." GETS IN THE PRACTICE + + +If Dodge and Bayliss devoted any time to farewells among their +late fellow-students before quitting Gridley the fact did not +seem to leak out. + +Yet despite the absence of two young men who considered themselves +of such great importance the Gridley High School appeared to go +on about the same as ever. + +It was the season of football, and nearly of the school's interest +and enthusiasm seemed to spend itself in that direction. Coach +Morton did all in his power to push the team on to perfection; +the other teachers worked harder than ever to keep the interest +of the students sufficiently on their studies. The girls, as +well as the boys, suffered from the infection of the gridiron +microbe. + +Five more games with other High School teams were fought out, +and now Gridley had an unbroken record of victories so far for +the season. + +Such a history can often be built up in the athletics of a High +School, but it has to be a school attended by the cream of young +manhood and having an abundance of public interest and enthusiasm +behind it all. + +Not at any time in the season did Coach Morton allow the training +work to slacken. Regularly the entire squad turned out for field +work. If the afternoon proved to be stormy, then four blasts +on the city fire alarm, at either two o'clock or two-thirty, notified +the young men that they were to report at the gym. instead. +There, the work, though different, was just as severe. The result +was that every youngster in the squad "reeked" with good condition +all through the season. + +It is in just this respect that many a High School eleven fails +to "make really good." In a team where discipline is lax some +of the fellows are sure to rebel at spending "all their time training." +Where the coach exercises too limited authority, or when he is +too "easy," the team's record is sure to suffer in consequence. +Many a High School eleven comes out a tail-ender just because +the coach is not strict enough, or cannot be. Many a team composed +of naturally husky and ambitious boys fails on account of a light-weight +coach. On the other hand, the best coach in the country can't +make a winning eleven out of fellows who won't work or be disciplined. + +Coach Morton's authority was unbounded. After the team had been +organized for the season it took action by the Athletics Committee +of the Alumni Association to drop a man from the team. But coach +and captain could drop the offender back to the "sub" seats and +keep him there. Moreover, it was well known that Mr. Morton's +recommendation that a certain young man be dropped was all the +hint that the Athletics Committee needed. + +Under failing health, or when duties prevented full attention +to football training, a member of the team was allowed to resign. +But an offending member couldn't resign. He was dropped, and +in the eyes of the whole student body being dropped signified +deep disgrace. + +In five out of the won games Dick Prescott had played left end, +and without accident. Yet, as it was wholly possible that he +might be laid up at any instant, the coach was assiduously training +Dan Dalzell and Tom Reade to play at either end of the line. +Other subs were rigorously trained for other positions, but Dan +and Tom were regarded as the very cream of the sub players in +the light-weight positions. + +Dan had played left end in one of the lesser gables, and had shown +himself a swift, brilliant gridironist, though he was not quite +as crafty as Prescott. + +Tom Reade had less of strategy than Dan but relied more upon great +bursts of speed and in the sheer ability to run away from impending +tackle. + +Now the boys were training for the team's eighth game, the one +to be played against the Hepburn Falls High School, a strong +organization. + +"Remember that a tie saves the record, but that it doesn't look +as well as a winning," Coach Morton coaxed the squad dryly, as +they started in for afternoon practice. + +"We miss the mascot that the earlier High School teams used to +have," remarked Hudson. + +"Yes? What was it?" inquired coach. + +"Why, bully old Dr. Thornton used to drop in for a few minutes, +'most every practice afternoon?" replied Hudson. "I can remember +just how his full, kindly old face, with the twinkling eyes, used +to encourage the fellows up to the prettiest work that was in +then. Oh, he was a mascot---Dr. Thornton was!" + +Coach Morton was of the same mind, but he didn't say so, as it +would sound like a rejection on the present unpopular principal, +Abner Cantwell. + +This afternoon there was no real team practice Mr. Morton wanted +certain individual play features brought out more strongly. One +of these was the kicking of the ball. + +After several had worked with the pigskin Morton called out: + +"Now, Prescott, you take the ball, and drop back to the twenty-five-yard +line. When you get there name your shot---that is, tell us where +you intend to put the ball. Where doesn't matter as long as it +is a long kick and a true one. After you name your shot, then +run swiftly to the center of the field. From there, without a +long pause, kick and see how straight you can drive for the point +you have named." + +"All right, sir," nodded Dick. Tucking the pigskin under his +arm, he jogged back to the twenty-five-yard line. + +"Right over there!" called Dick, pointing. "I'll try to drop +the ball in the front row of seats, second section past the entrance." + +"Very good, Prescott!" + +No one was sitting in the section named by Prescott, but a few +onlookers who had been squatting in a section near by hastily +moved. + +"The duffers! They needn't think I am going to hit them with +the ball," muttered Dick. Then he started on a hard run. + +Just at center he stopped abruptly, swung back his right foot +and dropped the ball. + +It was a hard, fast drive. The ball arched upward, somewhat, +though it did not travel high. + +But to Dick, standing still to watch the effect of his kick there +came a sudden jolt. A man had just appeared, walking through +the entrance passage. His head, well up above the sloping sides +of the passage at this point, was not right in line with the ball. + +And that man was Principal Cantwell! + +Several members of the squad saw what might happen, but every +one of them was too eagerly expectant to make a sound to prevent +the threatened catastrophe. + +Dick saw and half shivered. Yet in his desire to say something +in the fewest words of warning, all he could think of was: + +"Low bridge!" + +Nor did Coach Morton succeed in thinking of anything more helpful, +for he shouted only: + +"Mr. Cantwell!" + +"Eh?" asked the principal, turning toward the coach and therefore +not seeing the ball that was now nearly upon him. + +Mr. Cantwell, on this afternoon, having a few calls in mind, had +arrayed himself in his best. He wore a long black frock coat +which, he imagined, made him look at least as distinguished as +a diplomat. In the matter of silk hats, being decidedly economical, +Mr. Cantwell allowed himself a new one only once in two years. +But new one had been due; he had just bought one, and now wore +this glossy thing in the latest style. + +There was no time for more warning. + +The descending ball was in straight line with that elegant hat. + +Bump! The pigskin struck the hat full and fair, carrying it from +the principal's head. + +On sailed hat and football for some three feet, the hat managing +to run upside down. + +R-r-r-rip! The force with which the football was traveling impaled +the hat on a picket at the side of the stand. Then, as if satisfied +with fits work, the football struck and bounded back, landing +at the principal's feet. + +For one moment Mr. Cantwell was dumb with amazement. + +Then he saw his impaled hat and realized the extent and tragedy +of his loss. The angered man went white with wrath. + +"What ruffian did that!" he roared. + +But the boys, unable to hold in any longer, had let out a concerted +though half-suppressed "whoop!" and now came running to the spot. + +"Who kicked my hat off?" demanded the principal, pointing tragically +to the piece of headgear, through the crown and past the rim of +which the picket now stood up as though in triumph. + +"You---you got in the way of---the ball, sir," explained Drayne, +trying hard to keep from roaring out with laughter. + +"But some one kicked the ball my way," insisted the principal, +with utter sternness. "Don't tell me that no one did! That football +could not By through the air without some one propelling it. +Now, young gentlemen, who kicked that ball?" + +"I did, Mr. Cantwell," admitted Dick, pushing his way through +the throng. "And I'm very sorry that anything like this has happened, +sir." + +"On, you did it, oh?" demanded the principal, eyeing the young +man witheringly. "And you actually expect an apology to restore +my new and expensive hat to its former pristine condition of splendor?" + +"I didn't know you were there, sir," Dick explained. "You didn't +appear until just after I had kicked the ball." + +"Prescott is quite right, Mr. Cantwell," put in Coach Morton. +"None of us knew you were here in the passage until the ball +had been kicked---not, in fact, until the ball was almost upon +you." + +"Then, when you saw me, why didn't you call out to warn me?" demanded +the principal, still fearfully angry, though trying to keep back +unparliamentary language. + +"I did call out, sir," replied Dick. "There was mighty little +time to think, but I called out the two quickest words I could +think of." + +"What did you call?" demanded the principal. + +"I yelled 'low bridge!'" + +"A most idiotic expression," snorted the principal. "What on +earth does it mean, anyway?" + +"It means to duck, sir," Prescott answered. + +"Duck?" retorted Mr. Cantwell, glaring suspiciously at the sober-faced +young left end. "Now, what on earth does 'duck' mean, unless +you refer to a web-footed species of poultry?" + +"Prescott was rattled, beyond a doubt, Mr. Cantwell," interposed +Coach Morton. "So was I---the time was so short. All I could +think of as to call out to you by name." + +"With the result that I looked your way--- and lost my row hat," +snapped the principal. He now turmoil to take the spoiled article +off the paling. He looked at it almost in anguish, for he had +been very proud of that glossy article. + +"It's a shame," muttered Drayne, with mock sympathy. + +"That's what it is," agreed Dave Darrin innocently. "But---Mr. +Morton---I think the matter can be fixed satisfactorily. If +you call this to the attention of the Athletics Committee won't +they vote to appropriate the price of a new hat out of the High +School athletics fund? You know, the fund is almost overburdened +with money this year." + +"That might not be a bad idea," broke in the principal eagerly. +"Will you call this to the attention of the Committee, Mr. Morton, +For it was in coming here to watch the young men that I lost my +fine, new hat." + +"Now, I'm heartily sorry," replied Mr. Morton, "but I am certain +the members of the committee will feel that money contributed +by the citizens of the town can hardly be expended in purchasing +hats for anyone." + +"But-----" Mr. Cantwell began to expostulate. Then he stopped, +very suddenly. Just as plainly as anyone else present the principal +now saw the absurdity of expecting a new hat out of the athletics +fund. Mr. Cantwell shot a very savage look at innocent-appearing +Dave Darrin. + +"My afternoon is spoiled, as well as my hat," remarked the principal, +turning to leave with as much dignity as could be expected from +man who bore such a battered hat in his hands. + +"The hatter might be able to block your hat out and repair it," +suggested Hudson, though without any real intention of offering +aid. "Our coachman had that sort of trick done to played-out +old silk hat that Dad gave him." + +"Mr. Hudson," returned the principal, turning and glaring at this +latest polite tormentor, "will you be good enough to remember +that I am not extremely interested in your family history. + +"Back to your practice, men!" called the coach sharply, after +the last had been seen of the back of the principal's black coat. + +"It was too bad!" muttered Dick, in a tone of genuine regret. + +"Say that again, and I'll make an effort to thrash you, Prescott!" +challenged Hudson, with a grin. + +"Well, I am sorry it happened," Dick insisted. "And mighty sorry, +too." + +"You couldn't help it." + +"I know it, but that hardly lessens my regret. I don't enjoy +the thought of having destroyed anyone else's property, even if +I couldn't help it and can't be blamed. + +"Prescott said he didn't know I was there!" exclaimed Mr. Cantwell +angrily to himself. "Bosh! That boy has been a thorn in my side +ever since I became principal of the school. Of course he saw +me---and he kicked wonderfully straight! Oh, how I wish I could +make him wear this hat every day during the balance of the school +year! Such a handsome hat---eight dollars!" + +"It's a shame to tell you," confided Dave Darrin, as he and Dick +headed the sextette of chums on the homeward tramp, "but you're +certainly looking in great condition, old fellow." + +"I feel simply perfect, physically," Dick replied. "I have, in +fact, ever since I first began to train in the baseball squad +last season. It's wonderful what training does for a fellow! +I know there's a heap of bad condition in the world, but I often +wonder why there is. Why, Dave, I ought to knock wood, of course, +but I feel so fine that it seems as though nothing could put me +out of form." + +At that moment young Prescott had no idea how easily a few minutes +could bring one from the best possible condition to the brink +of physical despair. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +LAURA AND BELLE HAVE A SECRET + + +"Only a team of fools would hope to stop Gridley High School this +year." + +Thus stated the Elliston "Tribune" after Gridley had walked through +Elliston High School, one of the strongest school teams of the +state, by a score of eight to nothing. + +That copy of "The Tribune" found its way over to Gridley, and +fell into the hands of some of the High School boys. + +"Be careful, young men," warned Mr. Morton. "Don't get it too +seriously into your heads that you can't be beaten, or your downfall +will date from that hour. The true idea is not that on can't +be beaten, but that you won't. Stick to the latter idea as well +as you do to your training, and it will be a good eleven, indeed, +that can get a game away from you." + +"Only two more to play this year, anyway," replied Hudson. "We +can't lose much." + +"The team might lose two, and that would a worse record than any +Gridley eleven has made in five years," retorted Mr. Morton dryly. + +"We won't lose 'em, though," rejoined Tom Reade. "Every fellow +in the squad is in a conspiracy to pull the eleven through the +next two games---by its hair, if necessary." + +"That line of thought is better than conceit," smiled the coach. + +The game with Paunceboro High School came off, one of the most +stubbornly fought battles that Gridley had ever entered. It seemed +impossible to score against this enemy. + +Again and again Dick broke around the left end in a spirited dash, +or Dan Dalzell made one of his swift sorties at right end. Then, +by the time that Paunceboro had grown used to end dashes, Gridley +would make a smashing charge at center. + +All these styles of attack, however, Paunceboro met smilingly. +In the first half there was no score. + +Yet Paunceboro did not succeed any better in getting through or +around Gridley's line of flexible human steel. Until within ten +minutes before the close of the second half, it looked like a +tie between giants of the school gridiron. + +Then, by a series of feints in which Prescott, Darrin, Drayne +and Hudson bore off the most brilliant honors, although all under +Wadleigh's planning, Paunceboro was sorely pressed down against +its own goal line. + +Just in the nick of time Paunceboro made a safety, and thus sent +the ball back up the field. But it cost Paunceboro two +reluctantly-given points, and that was the score---two to nothing. + +Gridley was still victor in every game so far played in the season. +November was now far along, and there remained only the great +Thanksgiving Day game. This contest, against Filmore High School, +was to be fought out on the Gridley field. + +"Your football season will soon be over, Dick," remarked Laura +Bentley, one afternoon when Prescott and Darrin, on their way +back from coach's gridiron grilling, met Laura and Belle on Main +Street. + +"This season will soon be over," replied Dick "but I hope for +another next year." + +"And then, perhaps, at college?" hinted Belle. + +"If we go to college," replied Dick slowly. + +"Why? Don't you expect to?" asked Laura, in some surprise. + +"We are not sure," murmured Dick, "that we want to go to college." + +"Why, I thought both of you were ambitious for higher education," +cried Belle. + +"So we are," nodded Dave. + +"Oh! Then, if not to college, you are going to some scientific +school?" guessed Laura. + +"I wonder if you two could keep a secret?" laughed Dick teasingly. + +"Try us!" challenged Belle Meade. + +Dick glanced at Dave, who gave a barely perceptible nod. + +"No; we won't try you," retorted Dick "We'll trust you, without +any promise on your part." + +"Good!" cried Laura, in a gratified tone. + +"Well?" inquired Belle, as neither boy spoke. + +"It's just here, then," Prescott went on, in a low tone, after +glancing around to make sure that no one else was within hearing. +"The Congressman from this district, in a year or so more, will +have the filling of a vacancy at West Point. That means a cadetship +from this district. Now, a Congressman can appoint a cadet as a +matter of favoritism, or to pay a political debt to some relative of +the boy he so appoints. But the custom, in this district, has +always been for the Congressman to appoint the boy who comes out +best in a competitive examination. The examination is thrown +open to all boys, of proper age, who can first pass a good physical +examination." + +"So you're both going to try for it?" asked Belle quickly. + +"No," retorted Dave very quickly. "That would make us rivals. +Dick and I don't want to be rivals." + +"Then where do you come in?" asked Belle, glancing curiously at +Darrin. + +"Whisper!" replied Dave, looking mischievously mysterious. After +a pause he continued, almost in a whisper: + +"At just about the same time there will be a vacancy at Annapolis. +So while Dick is trying to get a job carrying the banner for +the Army, it will be little David trying for a chance to be a +second Farragut in the Navy." + +Dick winced at his chum's rather slighting allusion to an Army +career, but on this one point of preference in the way of the +service, the two chums were willing to disagree. Darrin wouldn't +have gone to West Point if he could. Dick admitted the greatness +of the American Navy, but all his heart was set on the Army. + +"Both of you boys, then, are planning to give up your lives to +the Flag?" exclaimed Laura. + +"Yes," nodded Dick; "do you think it's foolish?" + +"I think it's glorious!" breathed Laura. + +"So do I," agreed Belle heartily; "though, like Dave, I should +think the Navy would be the more attractive." + +"Oh, the Navy is all right," gibed Dick. "It would never suit +me, though. You see, a fellow in the Navy has nothing to do but +ride into a fight on board a first-class ship. It's too much +like being a Cook's tourist war time. Now, any Army officer, +or a private soldier, for that matter, has to depend upon his +own physical exertions to get him into the fight." + +"And an Army fellow," twitted Dave, "if he finds the fight too +hard for him, can always dig a hole and hide in it. But where +can a naval officer hide?" + +"Oh, he has it easy enough, anyway, hiding behind armor plate," +scoffed Dick. + +"Of one thing I feel certain, anyway," said Laura thoughtfully. +"You are both of you cut out for the military life. Under the +most fearful conditions I don't believe either one of you would +ever show the white feather." + +"I don't know," replied Dick gravely. "Neither one of us has +ever been tested sufficiently. But I hope you're right, Laura. +I'd sooner be dead, at this instant, than to feel that my cowardice +would ever throw the slightest stain on the grand old Flag. I +try to be generous in my opinions of others. I think I can stand +almost any man except---the coward!" + +"I'm not a bit afraid of either one of you, on that score," broke +in Belle warmly. + +"That's very kind of you," nodded Dave. "But of course you don't +know any more about our bravery than we do ourselves. It has +never been proven." + +"How many young men have been killed in football this year?" asked +Laura quietly. + +"I think the paper stated, the other day, that it was something +more than forty," replied Dick. + +"Well, don't you two play football," demanded Laura. "Don't you +both jump into the crush as fearlessly as anyone, Doesn't it take +about as much nerve to play fast and furious football as it does +to fight on the battlefields Isn't football, in its hardest form, +a great training for the soldiers" + +"Oh, perhaps," laughed Dick. "For that matter, Laura, I believe +you could soon talk me into believing that I'm braver than good +old Phil Sheridan!" + +"Hullo," muttered Dave suddenly. "What-----" + +"Where's the crowd rushing!" demanded Belle, in the same breath. + +"There's some trouble down the street!" cried Darrin. "And smoke, +too." + +"It's a fire!" cried Dick, wheeling about. "Come along---all!" + +As the girls started to scurry down the street Dick caught Laura's +nearer arm to aid her. Dave did as much for Belle. + +These four young people were among the first hundred and fifty +to gather on the sidewalk before a store and office building that +was on fire. + +It was a five story building. Fire had started in back on the +second floor. Originating in offices empty at the time, the blaze +had gained good headway ere it was discovered. It had eaten up +to the third and fourth floors, and was now sweeping frontward. +On the third floor the heat had cracked the window glass, and +the air, rushing in, had fanned up a brisk blaze. Flames were +beginning to shoot out their fiery tongues through these third +story windows. + +"Is everyone out of that building?" demanded the policeman on +the beat, rushing up. He had just learned that a citizen had +gone to ring in the fire alarm, so now the policeman's next thought +was directed toward life saving. + +There was a quick count of those who had been in the offices on +the upper floors. + +On the fourth floor one suite of offices had been occupied as +a china painting school. Miss Trent, the teacher, who had reached +the sidewalk safely, now looked about her anxiously. + +"I had only one pupil up there, Miss Grace Dodge," replied Miss +Trent, hurriedly. "I called to her and then ran. Miss Dodge +started after me, then rushed back to get her purse, palette and +color case." + +"Has anyone seen Miss Dodge?" demanded the policeman. + +No one had. + +"Then I'll get up there, if I can," muttered the officer. + +Dropping belt and club to the sidewalk, and pulling his helmet +down tight on his head, the policeman darted into the building +and up the stairs. + +At that moment, above the smoke and flames pouring out of the +third story windows, Grace Dodge appeared at one of the windows +on the fourth floor. She was hatless, and a streak of blood appeared +over her left temple. + +"Don't jump!" shouted several men loudly. "A policeman has just +started up to get you." + +Miss Dodge appeared somewhat dazed; it was a question whether +she understood. But her face disappeared from the window way. +To many of the horrified ones below, it appeared as though the +imperiled girl had swayed dizzily away from the window, as though +overcome by the heat and fumes from the windows below her. + +"Where is the fire department? Is it never coming?" wailed one +woman in the throng, wringing her hands. + +No one here knew that the citizen who had rushed to send in the +alarm had found the first box out of order. He was now rushing +to another alarm box. + +Out of the hallway came the policeman, white-faced and tottering +weakly. + +"I---I couldn't get up much above the second floor," he gasped, +in a voice out of which the strength was gone. "I---I guess +the---heat and smoke got me! But---some one---must try!" + +Where was that fire department? + +Dick, staring over the crowd, found that all of his chums had +arrived. + +"Come on, fellows!" he yelled. "We've got to do something. Follow +me!" + +Prescott, after one swift glance at the buildings, made a dash +for the door of the one just to the right of the blazing pile. +Into the stairway entrance he dashed, followed by Dave Darrin, +by Tom Reade, Greg Holmes, Dan Dalzell and Harry Hazelton. + +"Hurrah!" yelled some one, in infectious enthusiasm. "Dick & +Co. to the rescue!" + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +IN THE LINE OF DARING + + +That became instantly the cry: + +"Dick & Co. to the rescue!" + +Yet none of the sextette heard it. + +They were all inside, at the first step of their projected deed of +bravery. + +"All of you but Dave run through the offices!" yelled Dick. "Some +of the tenants must have fire-rope coils. Grab the first rope +you can find and bring it to me on the roof. Hustle! Dave, you +follow me!" + +Even to boys daily grilled on the football gridiron it was no +mere matter of sport to dart up five flights of stairs at fast +speed. + +Dick Prescott was panting as he reached the roof and threw open +the skylight door. + +But he got out on the roof, hurrying across it, doing his best, +at the same time, to gulp in chestfuls of fresh air. + +Then he came to the edge of the roof next to the burning building. + +The roof of that other building was about fifteen feet below the +Roof on which Dick Prescott stood. + +After an instant of swift calculation young Prescott jumped. + +He landed, below, on the balls of his feet, though the next instant +the momentum of the fall carried him forward onto his hands. + +In another twinkling Prescott was up, running toward the front +edge of the building. + +He stopped at the skylight door, but discovered that the flames +and smoke below shut off hope there. So he continued to the front +of the roof. + +Here Dick glanced back, for a second, to make sure that Dave +had followed safely. + +Darrin was on his feet, and waved his hand reassuringly. + +Then Dick Prescott leaned out, peering down at the front of the +burning building. + +"There's Prescott!" shouted some of the most enthusiastic watchers. + +"Hurrah. Old Gridley High School!" + +But Dick paid no heed to the crowd. He was trying to locate the +window at which Grace Dodge had appeared, and was trying to contrive +how he would use a rope when one came. + +In the meantime Darrin, having jumped to the lower roof, remained +where he had dropped, awaiting the arrival of the other fellows +with a rope. + +After a few moments they came. Reade had a coil of inch rope, +which he waved enthusiastically. + +"Wait until we get the rope uncoiled," called Greg. "Then we'll +lower some of us down to join you" + +"Lower---nothing! Jump!" yelled Dave, in a stentorian quarter-deck +voice. + +Greg obeyed, instanter. Tom flung the coil of rope below, then +followed it. Hazelton and Dalzell, an instant later, were with +their comrades. + +"Come on, now," ordered Darrin, who had snatched up the coil of +rope and was darting over the roof. "Dick's waiting for us." + +Prescott, still looking below, heard the swish of ropes on the +roof as Dave uncoiled and threw the lengths out. + +"Good!" yelled Dick, looking back. "Tom, you take a turn or two +of the rope around that chimney, for anchor. Dave, you stand +here at the roof edge to pay out the rope. Greg, you and Dan +get in behind Dave to help on the hoist. See, Dave! That third +window from the end--- there's where the rope wants to go." + +"You going down the rope?" queried Darrin dryly. + +"Yes." + +"Wait, then, and I'll tie some knots in it." + +"No time for that," vetoed Dick sharply. + +"I'll have to take my chances. Miss Dodge may be smothering, +or burning. Pay it out---fast!" + +Dick watched until he saw that the rope had gone low enough, and +that it hung before the right window. + +"Now, brace yourselves, fellows!" he called, between his hands, +for the roar of the flames and the crackling of timbers made some +sort of trumpet necessary, even at short range. + +On his knees, his back to the street, at the edge of the roof, +Dick Prescott seized the rope. + +Then, with a fervent inward prayer, he started over the edge, and +hung in the air, eighty feet from the ground. + +Down below, the ever-increasing crowd let out a cyclonic, roaring +cheer. It was a foolish thing to do, for it might have rattled +the young football player. But Prescott paid no attention to +the racket, and kept on lowering himself, coolly. + +Here was where his gym. training and all his football practice came in +splendidly. Every muscle was strong, every nerve true to its +duty! + +Not once did Prescott fear that he would lose his grip and fall to +the street below. + +Up above, at the roof's edge, stood Darrin, directing as though +from quarter-deck or military-top. Dave had to lean rather far +out, at that great height, but it did not make him dizzy. + +"There! The grand old chap has landed on the window-sill! +He has gone inside!" cried Dave, turning to his comrades. "Now +we can wait until we feel a signal-pull on the rope." + +As he turned away from the smoke that was coming up through the +air Darrin realized how much smoke he had inhaled. He thumped +his chest lightly, taking deep breaths. + +Dick was in the studio now. + +Close to the window, where the draught was strongest, Prescott +found the smoke so thick that he had to grope his way through +it; but bending low, he quickly came to where Grace Dodge lay +unconscious on the floor. + +She looked lifeless, as she lay there. + +"Whew! I'm afraid she's a goner, already!" thought Dick, with +a great surge of compassion. + +However, seizing the unconscious girl by the shoulders he dragged +her swiftly over the floor to the window through which he had come. + +The rope still dangled there. + +Seizing it, Dick gave it a gentle pull---not too hard, for fear +the jerk might catch good old Dave of his guard and yank him over +the roof's edge. + +In another instant Darrin was "back on the job," peering down. + +Dick made a signal that Dave understood perfectly. + +Prescott's next care was to knot his end of the rope swiftly around +Grace's body, above the waist, adjusting the coils so that considerable +of the strain would come under the shoulders, where it could best +be borne. + +Once more Dick leaned out of the window, making motions. Dave +Darrin nodded. The fascinated crowd in the street looked up, +breathless. Few now even thought to wonder why the fire department +did not appear. + +At Dave's command the others on the roof with him began to hoist. +Slowly, Dick aided Grace's body through the window. Then the +girl, motionless, so far as she herself was concerned, swung in +the air, slowly ascending. + +Now groans of horror went up from the street. It seemed to the +onlookers below as though a dead body were being hoisted. + +Dick had made a loose hitch of the end of the rope so that it +bound the girl's skirt about her ankles. + +As he watched, he saw the swinging body steady at the roof edge. +Then Grace disappeared from his sight as Dave and the others +hauled her to momentary safety. + +"Ugh!" gasped young Prescott. The smoke and the hot air, filling +his lungs, drove him back from the open window to a spot where +the draught was less intense. + +After a few moments he heard something clattering against the +window frame. + +"What is it?" wondered Dick, dreamily, for his senses were leaving +him. + +Rousing himself, by a supreme effort of the will, the young football +player staggered toward the window. It was the rope, which Dave +had lowered for him. And thoughtful Darrin had swiftly knotted +a strong slip-noose at the end. + +Dick had just strength and consciousness enough left to slip this +noose over his head and down under his armpits, drawing the noose +tight. Then---so fast was the hot air and smoke overcoming him +that he had to fight for it!---Dick forced his way to the sill +and gave a hard tug at the rope. Then he reeled, falling back +senseless upon the floor. + +In that same instant, not far behind him, the flames burst through +the flooring. + +There must be some quick work, now, or Dick Prescott would meet +a hero's death at seventeen! + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +THE PRICE OF BRAVERY + + +Dave Darrin did not falter in his duty for an instant. + +He had been waiting for that tug on the rope. + +Now he leaned out, and as far over as was possible without pitching +himself headlong into the street below. + +"Dick! Oh, Dick!" he roared. + +There was, of course, no answer, for young Prescott day senseless +on the floor, smoke and hot air filling his lungs, the creeping +flames threatening to pounce upon and devour him. + +Wondering, Dave gave a slight signal tug himself at the rope. + +From below there was no answer. + +"Something uncanny has happened, down there!" muttered Darrin. + +"What's wrong?" called Reade. + +"I wish I knew," muttered Dave. "There is no further signaling." + +"Then-----" + +That was as far as Tom got with his hint at an explanation. + +"Cut it," retorted Darrin briskly. "Keep the rope steady. I'm +going down there." + +"Can you-----" + +"Yes!" blazed Dave recklessly. "Watch me. Here goes nothing!" + +As the last three words left his lips Darrin swung free over the +roof edge. + +He was going down the straining, smooth rope now, hand under hand. + +The dense crowd in the street below was quick to realize that +something new and tragic was on the cards. + +A gasp of suspense went up as Dave slowly went down. + +Many in the street uttered a silent prayer---for heroes are ever +dear to the multitude. + +Dave's task now was more dangerous than Dick's original undertaking +had been. + +The smoke was rolling up with ever increasing density. + +"I'll close one eye, and save that to see Dick with," Darrin muttered +grimly to himself. + +So, with one eye closed tightly, Dave yet knew when the instant +came to swing in and stand on the sill. + +Opening the closed eye, Darrin sought to peer into the studio. + +Such a gust of smoke came out at him that Darrin very nearly lost +his balance from dizziness. + +"I can't see a blessed thing in there," Dave muttered. So he +sprang inside. + +Now, quickly enough Dave stumbled over the prostrate figure of +his unconscious comrade. + +Fairly pouncing upon Prescott, Dave half raised that body, then +dragged it to the window. + +"Pull!" Darrin yelled up to Tom Reade, peering over the roof's edge. + +Over the roar of the fire Dave's voice did not carry well, but +his gesture was seen. + +Reade gave the command, and the hoisting commenced, while Dave, +standing at his post, though choking, and his brain reeling, swung +Dick's feet clear of the sill. + +Then the body began to go up quickly, while the crowd watched +in greater awe than ever. + +Dave Darrin leaped out upon the sill, holding a handkerchief over +his mouth and nostrils in order to protect his lungs as much as +possible. + +With the other hand Dave clutched at the window frame, for he +had a fearful dread, now that he would lose his hold, his footing +and plunge headlong into the street. + +Dick's body disappeared over the roof edge. + +After what seemed like a short age, but what was only a few moments, +Reade again showed his face, dangling the noose in his hand. + +Then he let it fall until it hung close to Darrin. + +Reade and the crowd alike watched breathlessly, while Dave Darrin, +fumbling, almost blindly, tried to slip the noose over his head +and adjust it under his shoulders. + +Once he let go of the rope, half swaying out into the street. + +A cry of terror went up from the spectators below. + +Tom Reade carefully swung the rope back again. Dave caught it. +After it had seemed as though he must fail Dave at last adjusted +the noose under his armpits. + +"All right!" bellowed Tom Reade, making a trumpet of his hands. + +Darrin answered only by a tug on the rope. Then he hung in mid +air as the hoisting began. + +At that moment a new sound cane on the air. The fire department, +with a short circuit somewhere in its wires, had at last been +notified by telephone, and the box number was pealing out on two +church bells. + +Barely were Dave's feet clear of the top of the window casing +when a draught drove the flames out. + +His shoes were almost licked by the red tongues. + +"Hurry, you hoisters!" bellowed a man in the street. + +His voice did not carry, but Tom Reade and his wearied helpers +were doing all that could be done by strong, willing hands. + +Another and longer tongue of flame leaped out through the shattered +window, and again Dave's swinging feet were all but bathed in +fire. + +"Thank heaven we've got you up here, old fellow!" panted Tom Reade +fervently, as Dave was hauled over the roof's edge, helping himself +a little. + +Dave, as soon as the noose had been slipped over his head, got +up on his feet, though he staggered a bit dizzily. + +"We must all get back up to that roof," ordered Dave, pointing +to the roof down from which they had leaped a while before. + +"We can't," retorted Reade. "We'll have to wait for the firemen +and their ladders." + +"Ladders---nothing!" retorted Dave, though his voice was weak +and husky. "We'll make our own ladders. You, Holmes, get over +against that wall. Hazelton, you beside hind Reade you climb +up onto their shoulders. Now, Dan you climb up on Reade's shoulders, +and you'll reach that roof up there!" + +Darrin's orders were quickly carried out. This trick of wall +scaling was really not difficult for football men in daily practice. +Dan's head was quickly above the gutter of the next roof. He +pulled himself over the edge. + +"Stand by to catch the rope, Dan," shouted Dave. "Throw it to +him, Tom." + +Whizz-zz! whirr-rr! That rope was over the edge and in Dan's +hands. Dalzell raced to a chimney, taking two or three turns +around and making fast. + +"Come on!" he called down. + +Harry Hazelton ascended the rope hand over hand, Reade following. +Then Greg Holmes went up. + +Dave, in the meantime, was preparing the apparently lifeless Grace +Dodge for the ascent. As he gave the signal those on the roof +above hauled away. + +Grace was soon in a position of safety. + +Then Dick, who had not, as yet, revived, was hoisted. + +"Now, we'll haul you up," called down Reade. + +"Forget it," mocked Darrin. "Toss down the rope and I'll use +my own muscles." + +So Dave joined them and stood beside them on the roof. + +"Now, we'd better make the street as soon as we can," Darrin advised. +"The one who's strongest pick up Miss Dodge, and another stand +by for relief. Two of you will have to tote Dick. I wish I could +help, but I'm afraid my strength is 'most all out." + +Dave, however, led the way. By the time that the little party +had descended two flights they were met by firemen rushing up. +After that the task of reaching the street was easy. + +As the rescuers and rescued came out upon the street the crowd, +now driven back beyond police lines, started to cheer. + +But Dave's hand, held up, acted as a silencer. Dick and Miss +Dodge were carried to a neighboring drug store for attention. + +Now the firemen tried to run up ladders to the studio floor, with +a view to fighting the flames by turning the stream on through +the windows. Flames drove them back. The on-lookers were quick +to grasp the fact that had no one acted before the arrival of +the firemen, Grace Dodge would have been lost indeed. As it was, +the fire fighters were obliged to fight the fire from the roof +of the next building. + +The office building in which the flames had started was almost +gutted before the blaze was subdued. + +An hour later Grace Dodge was placed in an automobile and carried +to her home, a physician accompanying her. + +She had revived for a brief period, but had again sunk into +unconsciousness. Whether her life could be saved was a matter +of the gravest doubt. + +And Dick? + +Young Prescott was revived soon enough, after expert assistance +had been secured. + +Yet he had swallowed more of the overheated air than had the girl. + +In the minds of the medical men there was a grave doubt as to +whether his lungs could be fully restored---or whether he would +be doomed to a spell of severe lung trouble, ending, most likely, +in death at a later day! + +Scores of people turned back from that fire with tears in their +eyes. + +They had seen this day something that they would remember all +their lives. + +"Dick and Dave were wondering whether they had courage enough +for the military service," sobbed Laura Bentley, in the privacy +of Belles room. "They have courage enough for anything!" + +Dick was up and about the next day, though he did not go to school. + +Moreover, later reports placed him out of serious danger. The +football squad was gloomy enough, however. Their star left end +man would not be in shape for the big Thanksgiving Day game. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +THE THANKSGIVING DAY GAME + + +Say, you're a great one, Prescott, to throw us down in this way," +chaffed Drayne, as Dick strolled into dressing quarters. + +"Oh, come, now!" broke in Darrin impatiently. "It's bad enough, +Drayne, to have to play side partner to you in the biggest game +in the year, without having to listen to your fat-headed criticism +of better men." + +Drayne flushed, and might have retorted, had not Wadleigh broken +in, in measured tones, yet with much significance in his voice: + +"Yes, Drayne; cut out all remarks until you've made good. Of +course you are going to make good, but talk will sound better +after deeds." + +Most of the fellows who were togging were uneasy. + +They wanted, with all their hearts, to win this day's game. First +of all, the game was needed in order to preserve their record +for unbroken victories. Then again, Filmore High School was a +team worth beating at any time and Filmore boosters had been making +free remarks about a Gridley Waterloo. + +So there was a feeling of general depression in dressing quarters. + +Dick Prescott, with his dashing, crafty, splendid, score-making +work at left end, had become a necessity to the Gridley eleven. + +"It's the toughest luck that ever happened," grumbled Hazelton, +right guard, to Holmes, right tackle. "And I don't believe Drayne +is in anything like condition, either." + +"Now, see here, you two," broke in Captain Wadleigh behind them, +as he gripped an arm of either boy, "no croaking. We can't afford +it." + +"We can't afford anything," grinned Hazelton uneasily. + +"Oh, of course, we're going to win today---Gridley simply has +to win," added Holmes hastily. + +"Yes; you two look as though you had the winning streak on," growled +Wadleigh, in a low voice. "For goodness' sake come out of your +daze!" + +"Do you think yourself that Drayne is fit?" demanded Hazelton. + +"He's the fittest man we have that can play left end," retorted +Wadleigh. + +"Knocking, are you?" demanded Drayne, coming up behind them. +"Nice fellows you are!" + +"Oh, now, see here, Drayne, no bad blood," urged Wadleigh. He +spoke authoritatively, yet coaxingly, too. "Remember, we've got +to keep all our energies for one thing today." + +"Well, I'm mighty glad you two don't play on my end of the line," +sneered Drayne, looking at Hazelton and Holmes with undisguised +hostility. + +"Cut it, Drayne. And don't you two talk back, either," warned +Wadleigh sternly. + +"Oh, acknowledge the corn, Drayne," broke in Hudson, with what +he meant for good humor. "Just say you're no good and let it +go at that." + +There was a dead silence, for an instant, broken by one unidentified +fellow, muttering in a voice that sounded like a roar in the silence: + +"Drayne? Humph!" + +"There you go! That's what all of you are saying to yourselves!" +cried Drayne angrily. "For some reason you idiots seem to think +I'm in no shape today. Hang it, I'm sorry I agreed to play. +For two cents I wouldn't play." + +"Drayne can be bought off cheaply, can't he?" remarked one of +the fellows. + +The last speaker did not intend that his voice should reach Drayne, +but it did. + +"Say, you fellows all have a grouch on, just because I'm playing +today!" quivered the victim of the remarks. "Oh, well, never +mind I'll cure your grouch, then!" + +Seating himself on a locker box, Drayne began to unfasten the +lacings of his shoes. + +"Here, man! What are you doing?" demanded Captain Wadleigh, bounding +forward angrily. + +"Curing the grouch of this bunch," retorted Drayne sulkily. + +"Man alive, there's no time to fool with your shoes now!" warned +the team captain. + +"I'm not going to need this pair," Drayne rejoined. "Street shoes +will do for me today." + +"Not on the gridiron!" + +"I'm not going on the field. I've heard enough knocking," grumbled +Drayne. + +A dozen of the fellows crowded about, consternation written in +their faces. + +Prescott was known not to be fit to play. Only the day before +Dr. Bentley had refused to pass him for the game. Hence Drayne, +even if a trifle out of condition, was still the best available +man for left end. + +"Quit your fooling, Drayne!" cried two or three at once. + +"Quit your talking," retorted Drayne, kicking off his other field +shoe. "I've done all my talking." + +Truth to tell, Drayne still intended to play, but he wanted to +teach these fellows a lesson. He intended to make them beg, from +Wadleigh down, before he would go on to the finish of his togging. +Drayne knew when he had the advantage of them. + +"Don't be a fool, Drayne," broke in Hudson hotly. + +"Or a traitor to your school," added another. + +"Be a man!" + +In Drayne's present frame of mind all these appeals served to +fan his inward fury. + +"Shut up, all of you!" he snapped. "I've listened to all the +roasting I intend to stand. I'm out of the game!" + +Several looked blankly at "Hen" Wadleigh. + +"Whom have you to put in his place?" Grayson demanded hoarsely. + +Drayne heard and it was balm to his soul. He started to pull +off his football trousers. + +Outside, the band started upon a lively gallop. The crowd began +to cheer. It started in as a Gridley cheer. Then, above everything +else, rang the Filmore yell of defiance. + +Just at this moment Coach Morton strode into the room. Almost +in a twinkling he learned of the new complication that had arisen. + +"Captain Wadleigh, who is to play in Drayne's stead" demanded +the coach rather briskly. + +"Under certain conditions," broke in Wayne, "I'll agree to play." + +"We wouldn't have you under all the conditions in the world!" +retorted Mr. Morton. "A football eleven must be an organization +of the finest discipline!" + +Drayne reddened, then went deathly white. He hadn't intended +to let the matter go this far. + +"Who is your best man for left end, captain?" insisted Mr. Morton. +"You've got to decide like a flash. Your men ought to be out +in the air now." + +There was a blank pause, while "Hen" Wadleigh looked around over +his subs. + +"Will you let me play?" + +There was a start. Every fellow in the room turned around to +stare at the speaker. + +It was Dick Prescott, who started eagerly forward, his face aglow +with eagerness. + +"You, Prescott?" cried Mr. Morton. "But only yesterday Dr. Bentley +reported that your lungs had not sufficiently recovered." + +"I know, sir," Dick laughed coolly; "but that was yesterday. + +"It would be foolhardy, my boy. If you went out on the field, +and any exceptional strain came up, you might do an injury to +your lungs." + +"Mr. Morton," replied the team's left end, very quietly, "I'm +willing to go out on the field---and do all that's in me, for +old Gridley---if it's the last act of my life." + +"Your hand, Prescott!" cried Mr. Morton, gripping the boy's palm. +"That's the right spirit of grit and loyalty. But it wouldn't +be right to let you do it. It isn't necessary, or human, to pay +a life for a game." + +"Will you let me go on the field if Dr. Bentley passes me _today_?" +queried Prescott. + +"But he won't." + +"Try him." + +Mr. Morton nodded, and some one ran out and passed the word for +Dr. Bentley, who acted as medical director in the School's athletics. + +Within two minutes the physician entered dressing quarters. + +Coach Morton stated Prescott's request. + +"Absurd," declared Dr. Bentley. + +"Will you examine me, sirs" insisted Prescott. + +With a sigh the old physician opened his satchel, taking out a +stethoscope and some other instruments. + +"Strip to the waist," he ordered tersely. + +Many eager hands stretched out to aid Dick in his task. + +In a few moments the young athlete, the upper half of his body +bared, stood before the medical examiner. For his height, weight +and age Prescott was surely a fine picture of physical strength. + +But Dr. Bentley, with the air and the preformed bias of a professional +skeptic, went all over the boy's torso, starting with a prolonged +examination of the heart action and its sounds. + +"You find the arterial pressure steady and sound, don't you," +asked Dick Prescott? + +"Hm!" muttered Dr. Bentley. "Now, take a full breath and hold it." + +Thump! thump! thump! went the doctor's forefinger against the +back of his other hand, as he explored all the regions of Dick's +chest. + +A dozen more tests followed. + +"What do you think, Doctor?" asked Mr. Morton. + +"Hm! The young man recovers with great rapidity. If he goes +into a mild game he'll stand it all right. If it turns out to +be a rough game-----" + +"Then I'll fare as badly as the rest, won't I, Doctor?" laughed +Dick. "Thank you for passing me, sir. I'll get into my togs +at once." + +"But I haven't said that I passed you." + +Dick, however, feigned not to hear this. He was rushing to his +locker, from which he began to haul the various parts of his rig. + +"Is it a crime to let young Prescott go on the field?" asked Coach +Morton anxiously. + +"No," replied Dr. Bentley hesitatingly. "It might be a greater +crime to keep him off the gridiron today. Men have been known +to die of grief." + +Probably a football player never had more assistance in togging +up for a game. Those who couldn't get in close enough to help +Dick dress growled at the others for keeping them out. + +"You seem uneasy, Coach," murmured Captain Wadleigh, aside. + +"I am." + +"I can't believe, sir, that a careful man like Dr. Bentley would +let Prescott go on at left end today, if there was good reason +why Prescott shouldn't. As we know, from the past, Dick Prescott +has wonderful powers of recuperation." + +"If Prescott should go to pieces, Captain, whom will you put forward +in his places" + +"Dalzell, sir. He's speedy, even if not as clever as Prescott +or Drayne." + +"I'm glad you've been looking ahead, Captain. Out I hope Prescott +will hold out, and suffer no injury whatever from this day's work." + +Was Dick anxious? Not the least in the world. He was care +free---jubilant. The Gridley spirit possessed him. He was going +to hold out, and the eleven was going to win its game. That was +all there was to it, or all there could be. + +In the first two or three days after his injury at the fire Dick +had traveled briefly in the dark valley of physical despair. + +To be crippled or ill, to be physically useless---the thought +filled him with horror. + +Then young Prescott had taken a good grip on himself. Out of +despair proceeded determination not to allow his lungs to go down +before the assault of smoke and furnace-like air. + +Grace Dodge was not, as yet, well on the way to recovery, but +Dick Prescott, with his strong will power, and the grit that came +of Gridley athletics, was now togging hastily to play in the great +game---though he had not, as yet, returned to school after his +disaster. + +Out near the grandstand the band crashed forth for the tenth time. +Gridley High School bannerets waved by the hundreds. Yet Filmore, +too, had her hosts of boosters here today, and their yells all +but drowned out the spirited music. + +"Here come our boys! Gridley! Gridley! Gridley! Wow-ow-ow!" + +"Hurrah!" + +Then the home boosters, who had read Drayne's name on the score +card took another look at their cards---next rubbed their eyes. + +"Prescott at left end!" yelled one frenzied booster. "Whoop!" + +Then the Gridley bannerets waved like a surging sea of color. +The band, finishing its strain, started in again, not waiting +for breath. + +"Prescott, after all, on left end!" + +Home boosters were still cheering wildly by the time that Captain +Pike, of Filmore High School, had won the toss and the teams were +lining, up. + +Silence did not fall until just the instant before the ball was +put in play. + +Drayne, with his headgear pulled down over his eyes, and skulking +out beside the grand stand, soon began to feel a savage satisfaction. + +Something must be ailing the left end man after all, for Dick +did not seem able to get through the Filmore line with his usual +brilliant tactics. + +Instead, after ten minutes of furious play, Filmore forced Gridley +to make a safety. Then again the ball was forced down toward +Gridley's goal line, and at last pushed over. + +Gridley hearts, over on the grand stand and bleacher seats, were +beating with painful rapidity. What ailed the home boys? Or +were the Filmore youths, as they themselves fondly imagined, the +gridiron stars of the school world! Filmore, like Gridley, had +a record of no defeats so far this season. + +It was a hard pill for Captain Wadleigh and his men to swallow. + +In the interval between the halves the local band played, but +the former dash was now noticeably absent from its music. + +The Gridley colors drooped. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +SULKER AND REAL MAN + + +Dave Darrin glanced covertly, though anxiously, at his chum. + +Was Dick really unfit to play? Dave wondered. + +It was not that Prescott had actually failed in any quick bit +of individual or team play that he had been signaled to perform. +But Darrin wondered if Dick could really be anything like up +to the mark. + +During the interval Captain Wadleigh went quietly among his men, +murmuring a word of counsel here and there. + +Nothing in Wadleigh's face or tone betrayed worry; intense earnestness +alone was stamped on his bearing. + +"Now, remember, fellows, don't get a spirit of defense grafted +on you," were Wadleigh's last words before the second half began. +"Remember, its to be a general assault all the time. If you +get on the defensive nothing can save us from losing." + +No sooner was the ball in motion than Gridley's line bore down +upon the enemy. So determined was the assault that Filmore found +itself obliged to give ground, stubbornly, for a while. Yet Captain +Pike's men were not made of stuff that is easily whipped. After +the first five minutes Pike's men got the ball and began to drive +it a few yards, and then a few yards more, over into Gridley's +territory. + +As the minutes slipped by the ball went nearer and nearer to Gridley's +goal line. Another touchdown must soon result. + +Twice Pike tried to throw the ball around the left end. Wadleigh, +Hudson, Darrin and Prescott, backed by quarter and left half, +presented such a stubborn block that the ball did not get another +yard clown the field in two plays. But Pike, who was a hammerer, +made a third attempt around that left end. This time he gained +but two feet, and the ball passed to Gridley. + +Of course, after having had its left wing so badly haltered Gridley +was bound to try to work the ball through Filmore's right. As +Wadleigh's signals crisped out, the Gridley players threw themselves +out for a play to right. + +Quarter received the ball, starting fiercely to the right. Left +half dashed past quarter, receiving the ball and carrying it straight +to Dick Prescott. For a moment this blind succeeded so admirably, +that even those on the grand stand did not see the ball given +to Prescott, but believed that quarter was rushing the ball over +to the right. + +Then, like a flash, the trick dawned. + +Dick Prescott had the oval, and was running with it like a whirlwind, +with Darrin and Hudson as his interference, and with quarter dashing +close behind them. + +Dick sprinted around the first Filmore man, leaving his interference +to sweep the fellows over. + +At Filmore's second attempt to tackle, Dick ducked low and escaped. +In the next instant the would-be tackler was bowled over by Darrin +and Hudson, and Dick swept on with the ball. + +By this time all the home boosters were on their feet, yelling +like so many Comanches. + +Filmore's half and full contrived a trap that caught young Prescott, +and carried him down with the ball---but this happened at Filmore's +forty-five-yard line! + +In the next play, Dave had the ball, on a short pass, but with +Dick dashing along close to his side, and Hudson on the other +flank. Before Darrin went down on the ball it had been carried +to Filmore's thirty-yard line. Then it went beyond the twenty-five-yard +line, and Gridley still carried the pigskin. + +"Dick's coming up, all right," proudly muttered Darrin to Hudson, +while the next snapback was forming. + +"It's putting nerve into all of us," rejoined Hudson. + +The pigskin was only fourteen yards from the Filmore goal line +when Captain Wadleigh's men had to see the ball go to Filmore. +Pike's men, however, failed to make good on downs, so the oval +came back into Wadleigh's possession. + +Now, the play was swift and brilliant. Dick got the ball around +the left end once, and afterwards assisted Dave to put it through +the hostile line. With the third play Dick carried the pigskin +barely across Filmore's goal line and scored a touchdown. Darrin +immediately after made a kick for goal. + +The score now stood eight to six for Filmore but only ten minutes +of playing time remained. + +"Our fellows have saved a whitewash, and that's all," reflected +Drayne. "They'd have done better with me, and I guess Wadleigh +knows it by this time." + +"Slug's the word," Pike passed around, swiftly. "No fouling, +but use your weight, dash and speed. Slam these Gridley rubes. +Hammer em!" + +"Come on, now Gridley!" rang the imploring request from the home +boosters, who were now too restless to keep to their seats. + +"Remember your record so far this season!" + +"Forceful playing, but keep cool. Use your Judgment to the last, +and put a lot of speed and doggedness behind your science," was +Wadleigh's adjuration. + +Those who followed form most close, now had their eyes on young +Prescott. + +If he went to pieces that would leave Gridley weak at what had +usually been its strongest point, especially in attack. + +And Gridley had the ball again. But what ailed Captain Wadleigh, +the boosters wondered? For he was now sending the ball to the +right wing, as if admitting that Prescott must not be worked too +hard. + +"Use Prescott!" shouted one man hoarsely. + +"Prescott! Prescott!" + +"Yah! Dot's all right. Vot you t'ink Wadleigh has ein head for' +Leafe him und Bresgott alone, and dey hand you der game a minute +in!" bawled the deep bass voice of Herr Schimmelpodt who, nearly +alone of the Gridley boosters, believed that the home team needed +no grand stand coaching. + +"But they've only eight minutes left," grumbled the man sitting +to the left of Herr Schimmelpodt. + +"Yah! Dot's all right, too," retorted the German. "Battles haf +been won in less than eight minutes. Read history!" + +In two plays Captain Wadleigh had succeeded in advancing the pigskin +less than two yards down the Filmore territory. + +But now hats were thrown up in the air, and frantic yells resounded +when it was discovered that Dick had the ball again, and that +Darrin, Hudson, Wadleigh, quarter and left half were fighting +valiantly to push him through the stubborn, panting line of Filmore +High School. + +It was a splendid fight, but a losing one. Filmore was massing all +its weight, wind and brawn, and Gridley lost the ball on downs. + +An involuntary groan went up from the Gridley spectators. + +Five and a half minutes left, and the ball in the enemy's hands! +That settled the game. + +The musicians looked at their leader, before taking the music +from their instrument racks. + +"Keep your music on," called the leader. "We of Gridley are sportsmen +enough to play the victors off the field." + +The play was quicker and snappier than ever. All the young men +on both sides were using their last reserves of strength and wind. +Pike was making a ferocious effort to get the ball back and over +Gridley's goal line. + +But Pike lost, after three plays, and Wadleigh's men again grabbed +the pigskin. + +"Barely two minutes!" groaned the Gridley spectators, watches +in hand. + +Dick was seen glancing at Wadleigh and shaking his head almost +imperceptibly. But a hundred people on the grand stand saw that +tiny shake, and, most of all, Pike took it in. + +Wadleigh, before bending low over the ball held up thumb and forefinger +of his right hand, formed in a circle, for a brief instant. That +sign meant: + +"Emergency signal code!" + +Then he bent over to snap the ball back, and the figures that +shot from quarter-back's chest carried different values from those +that any enemy could guess. + +"Eight---eleven---four---ten!" + +Then the ball went back to quarter, who started from a crouch +without straightening up. + +Gridley's whole attack seemed to swing to the right. Wadleigh, +himself, from half-facing to right, took a long step toward right +wing; then wheeled like a flash, and went plowing, onward, to the +left. + +Quarter, after the start, and ere Filmore could break through, +had passed the ball to half, who, on a wild sprint, had passed +it to Dick Prescott. + +And now Dick was racing out around Filmore's right end, backed by +a crushing interference of which Wadleigh was the center. Darrin, +with head high, was watching for every chance at legitimate +interference. Behind them all, quarter and left half pounded and +pushed. + +An instant and Dick was free and around Filmore's end. Now, he +dashed into the race of his life! + +Wadleigh sent a man sprawling. Dave's elbow did something to +Filmore's right tackle. Just what it was none of the spectators +could see. But none of the field officials interfered so it must +have been legitimate. + +After a fight and a short, brilliant run, Dick was tackled by +Filmore's fullback. + +One quivering instant---then Wadleigh and Hudson bumped that fullback +so hard that he went down, Dick wriggling safely away and bounding +toward Filmore's goal. + +With fire in their eyes, Gridley's center and left wing swept on. + +Dick Prescott was over the goal line, bending and holding the +ball down! Then, indeed, the crowd broke loose all except the +few hundreds from Filmore. + +Was it a touchdown? That was the question that all asked themselves. +It was so close to the line that many onlookers were in doubt, +and stood staring with all their eyes. + +But the ball went back for the kick, and that settled all doubts. + +Dave made the kick, and lost it---but who cared? + +A moment later and the whistle blew---the second half was over---the +game finished. + +Filmore had bitten the dust to the song of eleven to eight. + +Dick's tiny head shake had been a piece of strategy prearranged +with Wadleigh. It was a legitimate ruse, as honest as any other +piece of football strategy intended to throw the enemy "off". + +Now the band was indeed thundering out, playing in its best strain. + +All restraint thrown aside, the spectators surged over the lines +and out on the gridiron, making a rush for the heated but happy +home players. + +The record had been kept---a season without a game lost. Filmore +swallowed its chagrin and went home. + +Dick? He had helped nobly to save the game and the record, but +now he was exhausted. + +Over in dressing quarters two of the subs were rubbing him down, +while Dr. Bentley and Coach Morton stood anxiously by. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +CONCLUSION + + +After a few days Prescott was back at school. It was noted, however, +that he did not take any part in gym. work, and that he spoke +even more quietly than usual, but he kept up in his recitations. + +Youth is the period of quick recovery. That the Thanksgiving +Day game had strained the young left end there was no doubt. +Within a fortnight, however, Prescott was himself again, taking +his gym. work, and a cross-country run three times a week. + +"We ought to give Drayne the school cut," hinted Grayson. "He +behaved in an abominable way right at the beginning of the critical +game. He's a traitor." + +"Give Drayne the cut?" repeated Wadleigh, slowly, before a group +of the fellows. "Perhaps, in one way, he deserved it, but-----" + +"Well, what can you find to say for a fellow who acted like that?" +demanded Hudson, impatiently. + +"Drayne helped to win the game for us," replied Wadleigh moderately. +"Had he played Filmore would have downed us---of that I'm sure, +as I look back. Drayne's conduct put Prescott on the gridiron, +didn't it? That was what saved the score for us." + +At the time of Grace Dodge's great peril, her banker father had +been away on a business trip. It was two days later when word +was finally gotten to the startled parent. Then, by wire, Theodore +Dodge learned that Grace's condition was all right, needing only +care and time. So he did not hasten back on that account. + +When he did return to Gridley, Mr. Dodge hunted up Lawyer Ripley. + +"I must reward those boys, and handsomely," he explained to the +lawyer. "Their splendid conduct demands it." + +"I am sorry, Dodge, that you have been so long in coming to such +a conclusion," replied the lawyer, almost coldly. + +"What do you mean?" + +"Why, you still owe Prescott and Darrin that thousand dollars +offered by your family as a reward for finding you when your +misfortune happened." + +"But my son, Bert------" + +"Is the bitter enemy of young Prescott, who is one of the manliest +young fellows ever reared in Gridley." + +"But my wife has also opposed my paying the reward," argued Mr. +Dodge. "She declares that the two boys were out on a jaunt and +just stumbled upon me." + +"Your wife, like all good mothers, is much inclined to take the +part of her own son," rejoined Lawyer Ripley. "However, at the +time Prescott and Darrin found you, they were not out on a jaunt. +They were serving 'The Blade,' and I happen to know that the +young men did some remarkably good detective work in trailing +and rescuing you. They started fair and even with the police, +but they beat the police at the latter's own game. Dodge, by +every consideration of right and justice, you owe that reward +to Prescott and Darrin! If they had not found and rescued you, +you might not be here today. There is no telling what might have +happened to you had you been left helpless less in the custody +of the pair of scoundrels who had you in that shack. I repeat +that you owe that thousand dollars as fairly as you ever owed +a penny in your life" + +"Well, then, I'll pay it," assented Theodore +Dodge reluctantly, after some hesitation. "I am afraid my wife +will oppose it, however." + +"You can tell Mrs. Dodge just what I've said, or I'll tell her, +if you prefer." + +"Will you attend, Ripley, to rewarding all the boys for their +gallant conduct in rescuing my daughter." + +"Yes; if you'll leave the matter wholly in my hands, and agree +not to interfere" + +Theodore Dodge agreed to this, and Lawyer Ripley went ahead. +The legal gentleman, however had a more difficult time than he +had expected. It took a lot of argument, and more than one meeting, +to make Dick & Co. agree to accept anything whatever. + +It was at last settled, however, Mr. Ripley urging upon the young +men that they had no right to slight their own future prospects +or education by refusing to "lay by" money to which they were +honestly entitled, when it cane in the form of an earned reward +from a citizen amply able to pay the reward. + +So Dick and Dave received that thousand dollars, which, of course, +they divided evenly. + +In addition, each member of Dick & Co. received one hundred dollars +for his prompt and gallant work in rescuing Grace Dodge from death. + +Of course Bert, away at private school with Bayliss, heard all +about the rescue. It is not a matter of record, however, that +Bert ever wrote a letter thanking any member of Dick & Co. for +saving his sister. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +POSTSCRIPT + + +When the next commencement swung around Fred Ripley, who had managed +to "go straight" all through his senior year, was among those +graduated. What became of him will yet be learned by our readers +in another volume. + +There are a host of other Gridley fellows also to be accounted +for. + +Their part in the subsequent history of Gridley, and of the world +in general, will also yet be told, all in the proper place. + +"Prin.," too, may yet come in for some attention. + +Dick & Co. did not take part in basket ball nor any of the organized +winter athletics though they kept constantly in training. But +these young men realized that the High School is, first of all, +a place for academic training; so, after the football season had +ended so gloriously, they went back to their books with renewed +vigor. + +Laura and Belle, as they neared the end of their junior year, +went almost from girlhood into womanhood, as is the way with girls. + +Yet neither Miss Meade nor Miss Bentley found Dick or Dave "too +young" for their frank, girlish admiration. + +"You see, Dick, that we were quite right about you and Dave having +all the grit that goes with the highest needs of the military +profession," Laura remarked. "Your conduct at the fire shows +the stuff that would be displayed by Dick & Co. in leading a charge +in battle, if need be." + +"I guess a reasonable amount of courage, under stress, is the +possession of nearly all members of the human race," laughed young +Prescott. + +Here we shall leave our Gridley friends for a short time. We +shall meet them all again, however, in the forthcoming and final +volume of this series, which will be published under the title: + +"_The High School Captain of the Team; Or, Dick & Co. Leading +the Athletic Vanguard_." + +In this new volume we shall see more of the boys' qualities in +leadership. + +Before we meet our popular boys in high school again the reader +will find the long succession of wonderful events of their summer +vacation following their junior year in the last two volumes of +the "_High School Boys' Vacation Series_", which are published +under the titles, "_The High School Boys' Fishing Trip; Or, Dick +& Co. in the Wilderness_," and "_The High School Boys Training +Hike; Or, Making Themselves 'Hard as Nails.'_" + +These two narratives of a real vacation of real American boys +are bound to please the many friends of Dick & Co. Be sure to +read them. + +THE END + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The High School Left End, by H. Irving Hancock + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HIGH SCHOOL LEFT END *** + +***** This file should be named 12691.txt or 12691.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/2/6/9/12691/ + +Produced by Jim Ludwig + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. 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