Dick Begins To Feel Old
Despite the strain of what they had gone through Dick and Dave
led the Gridley boys through a fierce gridiron battle that same
afternoon, and won again by a score of 13 to 5.
But the people of Gridley paid little heed to the score that day,
or the next. The sensation that Dick and Dave had supplied was
the talk of the town, to the exclusion of other topics relating to
high School boys.
Mr. Pollock bought a copy of the photograph showing Dick close
to the weather vane on his climb. A half-tone cut made from this
photograph was printed in "The Blade."
"This young man is now a member of 'The Blade' staff, reporting
school and other matters," ran the comment under the spirited
picture. "We believe that Mr. Prescott will continue to be a
member of the staff, and to grow with 'The Blade.'"
"What about that, Dick?" laughed Darrin.
"I've told Mr. Pollock and Mr. Bradley that I believe my plans
will carry me a good distance away from 'The Blade' office after
this year," replied Dick, with a meaning smile. "If they won't
believe me now, perhaps they'll wake up later."
The town had not been wanting in croakers at the outset of the
football season, who had predicted that Dick Prescott and his
chums would "drag down" the football team and its fine traditions
from past years.
But the eleven, mainly under Dick and under Dave's captaincy in
two fierce gridiron battles, had gone right along winning games.
The last three battles had been fought out to a successful finish
in November. There now remained only the Thanksgiving Day game
to complete the season.
By all traditions each football team in the country strives to
have its biggest fight take place on Thanksgiving Day. By another
tradition, every team seeks to have this game take place on the
home grounds.
In the latter respect Gridley lost this year. The game, which
was against Fordham High School, was scheduled to take place at
Fordham.
Enthusiasm, however, was at top notch. Citizens hired the Gridley
Band to go along with the young men and help out on noise. A
special train in two sections was chartered, for some seven
hundred Gridleyites had voted in favor of an evening dinner on
Thanksgiving Day; they were going along to see the game.
Fordham had lost two games, against exceptionally strong teams,
earlier in the season, but had of late a fine record. Fordham
had dropped several of its original players, putting in heavier
or better men, and a new coach had been employed. The Fordham
boys were now believed to be able to put up a strenuous game.
"I hope you're going to win, Prescott," said Mr. Macey,
meeting Dick on the street one afternoon not long before Thanksgiving.
"Have you any doubts, sir?" smiled the captain of the Gridley
team.
"Well, you see, Fordham was my native town. I run down there
often, and I know a good deal of what's going on there. Fordham's
second coach has attended the last two games you played, and he
has been stealing all your points that he could get."
"He has, eh?" muttered Prescott. "That's news to me. Oh, well,
it's legitimate to learn all you can about another team's play."
"From the reports Fordham has of your play the young men over
in that town are certain that they're enough better to be able
to bring your scalps into camp."
"Perhaps they'll do it," laughed Dick pleasantly. "We'll admit
that we're about due for a walloping whenever the crowd comes
along that can do it."
"I am only telling you what I hear from Fordham," continued Mr.
Macey.
"And I'm glad you did, sir. We'll try to turn the laugh on Fordham."
"Then you think you can beat 'em?"
"No, sir. We never think we can. We always know that we can!
That's the Gridley way---the Gridley spirit. We always win our
battles before we go into them, Mr. Macey. We make up our minds
that we can't and won't be beaten. It isn't just brag, though.
We base all our positiveness on the way that we stick to our
training and coaching, and on our discipline. Mr. Macey, this
is the third year that I've been playing on different Gridley
High School teams. I remember a tie game, but no defeats."
"I guess Fordham will find it a hard enough proposition to down
you young men," remarked Mr. Macey.
"They're going to discover, sir, that they simply can't do it.
Gridley never goes onto any field to get beaten."
"Und dot isn't brag, neider," broke in a man who had halted to
listen. "Ven dese young men pack deir togs to go away, dey pack
der winning score in der bag, too. Ach! Don't I know dot? Don't
I make mineself young vonce more by following dese young athletes
about?"
Herr Schimmelpodt looked utterly shocked that anyone should think
it possible for another High School eleven to take a game from
Gridley.
Dick soon encountered Dave and told him the news he had gleaned
from Mr. Macey.
"Been sending their second coach over to watch our play, have
they?" laughed Darrin softly. "That seems to show how much they
fear us in Fordham."
"I believe we are going to have a stiff game," muttered Prescott.
"Hallam Heights and Fordham are the only two teams that think
enough of the game to hire two coaches."
"Well, we have Hallam's scalp dangling down at the gym.," laughed
Dave Darrin.
"And we'll have Fordham's in the same way," predicted Dick confidently.
It barely occurred to the young captain of the team to wonder
what it would mean for him if the game to Fordham should be lost.
Dick would be the first captain in years who had lost a football
game for Gridley. It would be a mean record to take out of High
School life. But Dick gave no thought to such a possibility.
"Of course we're going to wallop Fordham," he thought. "I wish
only one thing. I'd like to see the Fordhams play through a stiff
game just once."
It was too late, however, to give any real thought to this, for
Fordham's next and last game of the season was to be the one with
Gridley.
"Are you girls going to the game?" asked Dick, when he and his
chum met Laura Bentley and Belle Meade before the post office.
"Haven't you heard what the girls are doing, Dick?" questioned
Laura, looking at him in some surprise.
"I have heard that a lot of the girls are going to the game."
"Just forty-two of us, to be exact," Laura continued. "We girls
and our chaperons are to have one car in the first section. You
see, we've arranged to go right along with the team. We have
our seats all together at Fordham, too."
"My, what a lot of noise forty-two girls can make in a moment
of enthusiasm!" murmured Dave.
"We can, if you give us any excuse," advanced Belle.
"Oh, we'll give you excuse enough. See to it that you keep the
noise up to the grade of our playing."
"Mr. Confident!" teased Belle.
"Why, you know, as well as we do, that we'll come home with Fordham's
scalp!" retorted, Darrin.
"You've heard some of the talk about Fordham's confidence in winning,
haven't you?" asked Laura, a bit anxiously.
"Yes," nodded Dick. "But that doesn't mean anything. You know
the Gridley record, the Gridley spirit and confidence."
"Still," objected Belle, "one side has to lose, and the Fordham
boys have all the stuff ready to light bonfires on Thanksgiving
night."
"Have you any particular friends over in Fordham?" asked Dave
Darrin, with a sudden swift, significant look.
"No, I haven't," retorted Belle hastily. "And I hope, with all
my heart, that Gridley gains the only points that are allowed.
Yet, sometimes, so much confidence all the while seems just a
bit alarming."
"I won't say another word, then, until after the game," promised
Darrin meekly.
"And then-----?"
"Oh, I'll turn half girl, and say 'I told you so,'" mimicked
Dave good-humoredly.
It would have been hard to find anyone in Gridley who would have
said openly that he expected the home boys to be beaten; but there
were many who knew that they were more than a bit anxious. Before
the game, anyway, Fordham's brag was just as good as Gridley brag.
"Won't you be glad, anyway, when the Thanksgiving game is over?"
asked Laura.
"Yes, and no," smiled Prescott seriously. "When I come back from
Fordham I shall know that I have captained my last game on a High
School team. That tells me that I am getting along in life---that
I am growing old, and shall soon have to think of much more serious
things. But, honestly, I hate awfully to think of all these grand
old High School days coming to an end. I mustn't think too much
about it until after the game. It makes me just a bit blue."
"Won't you be captain of the basket ball team this winter?" asked
Laura quickly.
"No; I can't take everything. Hudson will probably head the basket
ball team."
"Why, I heard that you were going in hard for basket ball."
"So I am. Mr. Morton is so busy, with the new evening training
classes, that he has asked me to be second coach to the basket
ball crowd. I'll undoubtedly do that."
"Oh, then you'll still be leading the athletic vanguard at the
High School," murmured Laura, and, somehow, there was a note of
contentment in her voice.
"I shall be, until I'm through with the High School," Prescott
answered. "But think---just think---how soon that will come
around for all of us!"