The High School Freshmen Part 23

"That oath, Mr. Morton, required and received the concerted brainpower of-----"

"d.i.c.k & Co.!" shouted the football squad in chorus.

A good-natured riot followed.

"d.i.c.k & Co. will soon get the notion that they're the whole High School," growled Fred Ripley to Purcell.

"They are a big feature of the school," laughed Purcell. "You're about the only one, Fred, who hasn't discovered it. Rub your eyes, man, and take another look."

"Bah!" muttered Ripley, turning away. Just then the gong clanged the end of recess.

"Now, that 'the oath of the dub' has been given out," suggested d.i.c.k Prescott to his chums, after school, "we ought to find Len Spencer and give it to him. He'll print it in tomorrow's 'Blade'

and that will send local pride soaring. That'll help a whole lot to success with the subscription papers."

After the papers had been in circulation a week the Athletics Committee held an evening session, in the room of the Superintendent of Schools, in the H.S. building.

By eight o'clock nearly a hundred and fifty of the boys and girls had a.s.sembled. More came in later.

The subscription papers, and the amounts for which they called, were turned in to Coach Morton. It was soon noticed that many of the subscriptions had been paid by check.

Laura Bentley was the first to turn in a paper.

"Twenty dollars," she announced, quietly, though with evident pride.

"Eleven dollars," announced Belle Meade.

After a good many of the girls had made accounting they boys had a brief chance.

When it came d.i.c.k Prescott's turn he spoke so quietly that those nearest him thought he said six dollars.

_"Sixty dollars?"_ repeated Mr. Morton, more distinctly. "The best offering yet."

"I've one more," added Prescott, in the same low voice.

"Then speak up more loudly," directed the submaster. "There are a lot of young people here who want to hear."

"Here," continued d.i.c.k, handing in another paper, "is a communication signed by the members of the city's Common Council. They signed as individuals. They agree to hire the Gridley Military Band, of twenty-eight pieces, to be on hand at the Thanksgiving game and to play for our High School eleven."

None of d.i.c.k's partners had secured less than twenty-five dollars.

When all the subscriptions had been turned in, and the amount footed up by Coach Morton, that gentleman announced, in tones that betrayed excitement:

"The total subscriptions amount to nineteen hundred and sixty-eight dollars. That will put us on a fine footing for this year, and leave a good balance over for next year!"

Then the enthusiasm broke loose in earnest. Two score of fans turned, at once, to find d.i.c.k & Co., who had started the scheme.

But d.i.c.k & Co. had quietly vanished.

Before it adjourned that night, the Athletics Committee, with the help of Captain Sam Edgeworth, found one effective way of rewarding those who had conceived this highly successful subscription campaign.

d.i.c.k Prescott was appointed cheer-master for the great Thanksgiving Day game. More, d.i.c.k was to name any one of his chums as a.s.sistant cheer-master.

As the cheer-master bosses the noise that is so indispensable a part of the game, the honor that had come to young Prescott was no mean one. No Gridley freshman had ever before achieved it.

d.i.c.k left to his partners the selection of a.s.sistant cheer-master.

_They_ settled on Dave Darrin.

CHAPTER XIV

ON THE GRIDIRON WITH COBBER SECOND

Once upon a time Thanksgiving Day was an orgie conducted in honor of that national bird, the turkey.

In these happier days, in every live community, the turkey must wait until the football game has been fought out. Then the adherents of one eleven eat crow.

Gridley's great game of the year was scheduled to begin at three o'clock.

However, a large part of the fun, at a really "big" game consists in being on hand an hour ahead of time and hearing and seeing all the fun that goes on.

Promptly at the tick of two o'clock the Gridley Band blew its first blast, to the tune of "Hail, Columbia!"

The band was stationed close to the ground, in the center of the stand reserved for the High School student body. Off the right of the band rose four tiers of bright-faced, wholesome-looking High School girls. To the left of the band sat the boys.

Across the field, on a much smaller stand, sat the hundred or so followers of the team from Cobber. The Cobbers had no band.

Few feminine faces appeared on the Cobber stand. The Cobber colors, brown and gray, floated here and there on the breeze in the form of small banners.

Gridley's stand was brilliant with the crimson and gold banners of Gridley H.S. These bright-hued bits of bunting waved deliriously as the band's strains floated forth.

But as "Hail Columbia" belongs to all Americans, the Cobbers elected to flash their bunting, too.

Suddenly the music paused. Then came pressing contempt for the hostile eleven: "All c.o.o.ns look alike to me!"

Cobber's friends took the hint in an instant. To a man the visiting delegation arose, hurling out the Cobber yell in round, deep-chested notes.

Just outside the lines, behind a huge megaphone mounted on a tripod, stood d.i.c.k Prescott, cheer-master. At his side was Dave Darrin, whose duties were likely to prove mainly nominal.

d.i.c.k swung the megaphone from left to right, as he called out through it:

"Now, then---number seven!"

From the boy's side came the prompt response, in slow, measured cadence, every word of it distinct:

"C-O-B-B-E-R! Born in misfortune! Reared on trouble. Grew to be a disgrace---and died in tears!"

Cobber's friends had to "chew" over that. They had nothing in their repertory of "sa.s.s" that seemed to fill this bill.