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."