appointed places in the busy marts of the world, kept a warm corner in
their hearts for sacred memories of that dear old fence. Many a
glorious campaign of sport or mischief had been talked over by a line
of students perched along the flat rail at the summit of that same
fence. More than one contemplated school mutiny had been hatched in
excited whispers amidst those never-to-be-forgotten historic
surroundings.

Why, when a few years back the unthinking and officious School
Directors voted to have that fence demolished, simply because it seemed
to be out of keeping with the grand new building that had been erected,
a storm of angry protest arose from students and parents; while letters
arrived from a score and more of eminent men who were proud to call
Scranton their birthplace. So overwhelming was the flood, that a hurry
call for an extra meeting of the Board went out, at which their former
ill-advised decision was rescinded.

And so there that fence remained, beloved of every boy in Scranton, the
younger fry only longing for the day to come when passing for the high
school they, too, might have the proud privilege of "roosting" on its
well-worn rails. Possibly it will still be in existence when some of
their sons also reach the dignity of wearing the freshman class colors,
and of battling on gridiron and diamond for the honor of Old Scranton.

As to the identity of the boys in question, from whom those remarks
proceeded, they might just as well be briefly introduced here as later,
as all of them are destined to take part in the lively doings that will
be recorded in this and in other volumes of this series.

Otto was Otto Brand; Eli Griffin came of New England parentage, and had