The High School Freshmen | Page 9

High School?"
"N-n-not to the best of our knowledge," stammered Chairman Stone. "We have---taken no action along that line."
"Are you likely to take any such action tonight?"
"I---I---think not."
"Thank you, and goodnight, gentlemen. I offer you my apology and 'The Blade's' for having intruded on you in this fashion."
As soon as the members of the Board were alone Chairman Stone glanced about him, and remarked:
"So, it appears, gentlemen, that, if we do not favor High School football, we shall be regarded as what are termed 'dead ones'!"

CHAPTER III
NOT SO MUCH OF A FRESHMAN
The next morning's "Blade" contained a column and a half, written in Reporter Spencer's most picturesque vein. The headlines ran: "School Board Hoaxed. Gentle Jokers Convey a Needed Hint. Football Not to Be Barred in High School. 'Blade' Reporter a First-off Victim in the Service of Public Spirit."
It was a fine article, from a High School boy's point of view. It was an article, too, which, in a city ruled by a lively public spirit, was likely to tie the hands of a Board of Education that did not care to fly in the face of public opinion.
Dick Prescott, before he went in to breakfast, read the article in secret, with many a chuckle.
"You seem much interested in the newspaper, Richard," said his father, when the young freshman came to table, still holding 'The Blade.'"
"Yes, sir. You know I have set my heart on making the H.S. eleven just as soon as I strike a higher class. I was afraid the School Board would abolish the game from our school. Now, I know they won't."
"Hm! Let me see 'The Blade.'"
Mr. Prescott glanced through the article, a faint twinkle showing in his eyes.
"The School Board may stop High School football," commented Mr. Prescott, laying aside the paper. "They may, but it would take a good deal of courage, for that article will start Gridley on a furor of enthusiasm for the game. I wonder who got up that hoax."
"Why, Dad, 'The Blade,' hints at some one down at the Business Men's Club."
"Hm! I wonder who wrote the article."
"Perhaps Len Spencer," replied Dick. "You know, Dad, he's a great fan for all our H.S. sports."
"I can just see Jason Stone reading that article at his breakfast table this morning," smiled Mr. Prescott. "Stone is a great sail-trimmer, always afraid of the man who casts a vote."
"What's the matter?" asked Mrs. Prescott, coming in breezily from the kitchen.
Dick explained the news to his mother.
"Abolish football at the High School!" echoed Mrs. Prescott, indignantly. "And I've been sharing your great wish Dick, to make the team when you're old enough. They shan't do it, anyway, Dick, until you've had your chance on the eleven!"
"No, mother," replied the boy, very quietly; "I don't believe they will."
With a sudden rush of recollection of other pranks in which she had known her son to be engaged in the grammar school days, Mrs. Prescott shot a sudden, wondering glance at him. But Dick, looking utterly innocent, was chewing his food.
Frank Thompson, Ben Badger and Ted Butler, all seniors, and stars on the H.S. football team, had risen early that morning, every one of them feeling glum over the dread that the great sport might be "killed" for them. They were the only members of the eleven who happened to see "The Blade" early. In consequence, these three husky young Americans were on the street early. Just as naturally they ran into each other.
"Whoop!" yelled Thompson, when he came in sight of his pals.
"Wow!" observed Ben.
"And some more!" glowed Butler.
"Will they stop football _now_?" demanded Thompson.
"Not while anyone is looking," averred Butler.
"But say, it was great of the Business Men's Club to make such a stroke for us," went on Badger, enthusiastically.
"Yes," admitted Frank Thompson, "if that was where it came from. I guess it was, all right."
Arm in arm the three went off down the street, feeling as though the world had turned right side up once more.
Dick met his partners on the way to the High School. All were grinning quietly.
"You're the genius, Dick," admitted Dan Dalzell, cordially. "My undertaker scheme would have been ghastly. It would have taken all the edge off the joke---would have spoiled it, and the joke would have been a club that would have hit us over the head. But, say! I wonder if the Grannies' Club will dare to touch our sacred football now!"
"Don't waste any time wondering," chuckled Tom Reade. "They wont."
It was a happy day in the famous old Gridley High School. Actually, the recitations went off better than they had done on any day since term opening.
Dick Prescott was out on the street rather early that afternoon. He wanted to run across Len Spencer, and chose Main Street as the most likely thoroughfare for the purpose. He met