"Tell 'em that we appreciate their kindness," laughed Dick.

"All right. I'll tell them---something," murmured Mr. Tyndall,
as he turned away.

"Up, all of you fellows!" commanded Dick Prescott. "This doesn't
look very gracious on our part, when an entertainment has been
arranged for us. We'll go, and attend to our aches to-morrow."
But when the referee of the afternoon noted how stiffly they
all moved he found himself filled with compassion.

"Don't you try to come over, boys," he urged. "You're too stiff
and sore to-night. Some people, myself included, don't realize
that fifteen-year-old boys haven't the bodily stamina of men of
twenty-five. You did a splendid bit of work this afternoon,
and now you're entitled to your rest."

"We'll get over there, somehow," Dick promised.

"No; you won't. Don't you try it. The Gridley visitors would
be brutes to try to drag you out to-night. I shan't let you go,
and I shall tell the home folks that you're enjoying a well-won
rest."

"But don't you let any of the Preston High School fellows know
how crippled you found us," begged Dave Darrin.

"What would you care, if I did?" laughed Mr. Tyndall. "You fellows
won the race, didn't you? And I'll wager that the Preston boys