yuh know, said as how he had to stand firm on the right, yuh know, old Dennie
just says straight and flat, `Professor Burgess, I'm ashamed of you.'
Dennie's a brick. And do you know, Burgess, spite of his cussed thin hide,
we've got to toughen for him out here in Kansas; spite of all that,
HE LIKES DENNIE SAXON. The oracle hath orked, the sibyl hath sibbed.
But say, Vic, if he does come down hard on you, what will you do?"

"Come down hard on him, and play anyhow."

The grim jaw and black frown left no doubt as to Vic's purpose.


Late November is idyllic in the Walnut Valley. Autumn's gold has all
been burned in Nature's great crucible, refining the landscape to a wide
range from frosted silver to richest Purple. Heliotrope and rose
and amethyst blend with misty pink and dainty gray, and the faint,
indefinable blue-green hue of the robin's egg, and outlined all in
delicate black tracery of leafless boughs and darkened waterways.
Every sunrise is a revelation of Infinite Beauty. Every midday, a shadowy
soft picture of Peace. Every sunset a dream of Omnipotent Splendor.

On such a November Thanksgiving day, the great game of the season
was played on the Sunrise football field, which all the Walnut Valley
folks came forth to see.

By one o'clock Lagonda Ledge was deserted, save for old Bond Saxon,
who sat on his veranda, watching the crowds stream by.
At two o'clock the bleachers were packed, and the side lines
were broad and black with a good-natured, jostling crowd.
And every minute the numbers were increasing.