The townsmen of Gridley had subscribed as liberally as ever to
the athletics fund. There had also been a fine advance sale of
seats, and the Gridley band had been engaged to make the occasion
a lively one.

"You'll win, if ever the signs were worth anything, Captain,"
remarked Mr. Morton to Prescott, at recess Thursday forenoon.

"Of course we'll win, sir," laughed Dick. "That's the Gridley
way---that's all. We don't know how to be whipped. I've been
taught that ever since I first entered the High School."

"Pshaw!" muttered Drayne, who was passing.

"Don't you believe our chances are good, Mr. Drayne?" asked Mr.
Morton, smiling.

"I look upon the Gridley chances as being so good, sir," replied
Phin, "that, if I weren't a member of the squad, and a student
of the High School, I think I'd be tempted to bet all I could
raise on Tottenville."

"Betting is too strong a vice for boys, Mr. Drayne," replied the
submaster, rather stiffly. "And doubt of your own comrades isn't
very good school spirit."

"I was talking, for the moment, as an outsider," replied Phin
Drayne, flushing.