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