The High School Left End Part 30

"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 a.s.sembled 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 cla.s.s, High School, have severed their connection with that inst.i.tution. 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, Ca.s.sleigh, 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---d.i.c.k & 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 d.i.c.k 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 a.s.sociation 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 d.i.c.k 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 a.s.siduously 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.