a popular vein. But Pollock says he wouldn't have thought of
it, Dick, if you hadn't set the ball rolling."

"Then he knows the big part that my chums and I took in the game?"
asked Dick, his face showing his concern.

"Yes; but don't worry. Old Pollock is as mum as the grave about
such things. Now, so long, Dick, old fellow. I've got to run
down to the end of this alley to call on a sick friend. Then
I'll hustle out and get a barrelful of interviews that will cinch
and rivet football on Gridley H.S. for a century to come!"

As Len Spencer vanished through one of the doorways Dick Prescott
turned toward the street. As he did so, he jumped back.

"We want you, freshie!" declared Frank Thompson, grimly. "And
we want you badly."

Badger and Butler, who were just behind the speaker, closed in
firmly around the freshman.

"We heard, and we didn't feel ashamed to listen," declared
Thompson. "So you're the genius that has been doing giant's
work for football? You are under arrest, freshie---and I hope
you'll come along without making any row."

Despite the severity of the looks in the faces of these three
seniors, Dick Prescott did not feel very uneasy. He submitted
to walking between Thompson and Butler, while Ben Badger brought
up the rear. The unafraid prisoner was marched along and into