The High School Left End Part 37

"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 d.i.c.k. 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 rus.h.i.+ng 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. d.i.c.k 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 d.i.c.k?

Young Prescott was revived soon enough, after expert a.s.sistance 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.

"d.i.c.k 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!"

d.i.c.k 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 d.i.c.k 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.

d.i.c.k Prescott, with his das.h.i.+ng, 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!"