The High School Freshmen | Page 7

before a stone wall. He eyed Dan keenly, who
had been walking just behind with Harry Hazelton.
"Dan," demanded the leader, "you gave us to understand that your mind
is seething again. Is that true?"
"Quite true," Dan averred, solemnly.
"What particular kind of cerebration is oscillating inside of your

intelligence?" Dick queried.
"Which?" demanded Dan, suspiciously. "No, I never! I'm not that kind
of fellow."
"In plain, freshman English, then, what's your scheme?"
"We'll have to get statistics," announced Dalzell, "before I can come
right down to bare facts. When does the Board of Education, otherwise
known as the Grannies' Club, meet?"
"Tonight, in the Board Room in the High School building," Dick
answered.
"How many members are there?"
"Seven," Dick affirmed.
"That's not too many, then," continued Dan, thoughtfully.
"Not too many?" repeated Dick Prescott. "What do you mean?"
"Why, I've been refreshing my general information about this town by
consulting the city directory. From that valuable tome I discovered that
there are just nine undertakers in town."
"Now, what on earth are you driving at---or driveling at?" asked Dick
Prescott, suspiciously, while the other partners remained wonderingly,
eagerly silent.
"Why," pursued Dan, "we can summon seven of the undertakers for our
job, and still leave two available for the public service."
Dick sprang up from the stone wall, tightly gripping Dan Dalzell by the
coat collar.
"Help me watch this lunatic, fellows," urged Dick, quietly. "He's
dangerous. You've heard him! He's plotting assassination!"

"Undertakers don't assassinate anyone, do they?" queried Dan, with an
air of mock innocence.
"What are you plotting, then?" insisted Dick.
Dan's face broadened into a very pronounced grin.
"Why, see here, fellows, there seems to be some fire behind Dr.
Thornton's smoke that the Board of Education may get excited over
low recitation marks, and actually---stop football!" finished Dalzell, in
a gasp.
The other five chums snorted. Dan Dalzell was presently able to control
his feelings sufficiently to proceed:
"No one but actually dead ones would expect an American institution
of the higher learning to exist in these days without football. Hence, if
the Grannies' Club---I mean the School Board---are planning to stop
football, or even believe that it is possible, then they're sure enough
dead ones. Am I right?"
"Right and sane, after all," nodded Dick.
"Therefore," pursued Dan, "if the board members are dead ones, why
not go ahead and bury them? Or, at the least, show our kindly interest
in that direction. See here, fellows"---here Dan lowered his voice to the
faintest sort of whisper, while the other partners gathered close about
him---"tonight we fellows can scatter over the town, and drop into
different telephone booths where we're not known. We can call up
seven different undertakers, convey to them a hint that there's a dead
one at the Board Room, and state that the victim of our call is wanted
there at once.
"What good would that do?" demanded Dick, after a thoughtful pause.
"Why," proposed Dan Dalzell, "if seven undertakers call, all within five
minutes, won't it be a delicate way of conveying the hint that a Board
of Education that thinks it can stop football is composed of dead ones?

You see, there'll be an undertaker for each member of the Board. Don't
you think the idea---the hint---would soak through even those seven
dull old heads?"
Tom, Harry and Dave began to chuckle, though they looked puzzled.
"Well, if you ask me," decided Dick, after more thought, "I have just
one answer. The scheme is too grisly. Besides, we've nothing against
the undertakers that should make us willing to waste their time.
Moreover, Dan we're in the High School, and we're expected to be
gentlemen. Now, does your scheme strike you as just the prank for a lot
of gentlemen."
"Say, don't look the thing over too closely," protested Dan, more
soberly, "or you'll find lots of bad holes in the scheme. Yet, somehow,
we've got to bring it to the attention of the Board that, if they go against
High School football, they're real dead ones."
"I've just an idea we can do that," spoke Dick Prescott, reflectively.
"We can rig the scheme over, so as to save seven estimable business
men from starting out on fools' errands. And we can drive the lesson
home to the Board just as hard---perhaps harder."
At these hopeful words from the chief the partners pricked up their ears,
then crowded closer.
"In the first place," began Dick, "Dan's scheme---beg your pardon, old
fellow---is clumsy, grisly and likely to come back as a club to hit us
over the head. Now, you all know Len Spencer, the 'Morning Blade'
reporter. He's a regular 'fan' over the football and baseball teams, and
follows them everywhere in the seasons. You also know that Len is