The High School Left End Part 24

It was but a little after noon on Sat.u.r.day.

It seemed as though two thirds of the school, including most of the girls, had come down to the railway station to see the High School eleven off on its way to Tottenville. That city was some thirty miles away from Gridley, but there was a noon express train that went through in forty minutes.

Coach Morton and Captain Wadleigh had rounded up the whole of the school team. All of the subs were there. The coach and members of the team were at no expense in the matter, since their expenses were to be paid out of the gate receipts of the home eleven.

To many of the boys and girls of Gridley High School, however, the affair bore a different look. The round trip by rail would cost each of these more than a dollar, with another fifty cents to pay for a seat on the grand stand at Tottenville.

Hence, despite the fine representation of High School young folks at the railway station, not all of them were so fortunate as to look forward to going to the game.

In addition to those of the young people who could go, there were more than three hundred grown-ups who had bought tickets. The railroad company, having been notified by the local agent, had added a second section to the noon express.

And now they waited, enthusiasm finding vent in volleys of cheers and the school war-whoop.

d.i.c.k Prescott and his chums stood at one end of the platform. Nor were they alone. Many admirers had gathered about them. Laura Bentley and Belle Meade, who were going with the rest to Tottenville, were chatting with d.i.c.k and Dave. Each of the girls carried the Gridley High School colors to wave during the expected triumphs of the afternoon.

"I'm glad you're playing today," Laura almost whispered to young Prescott.

"Why?" smiled d.i.c.k

"Why, I believe you're one of those fortunate people who always carry their mascot with them," rejoined Miss Bentley earnestly.

"With you there, d.i.c.k, I feel absolutely certain that even Tottenville must go down in the dust. Gridley will bring back the score---and not a tied score, either."

"I certainly hope I am as big a mascot, or possess as big a mascot as you seem to believe," laughed young Prescott.

"You and Dave are each other's mascots," declared Belle Meade, with a laugh. "I remember that last year when you were both on the baseball nine Gridley never lost a game in which you and Dave both played."

"Nor did the nine lose any other game," returned d.i.c.k, "though there were some games when Dave and I weren't on the batting list.

The nine didn't lose a game last season, Miss Belle, and had only one tied score."

"Anyway," declared Laura, with great conviction, "it all comes back to this---that Gridley can't lose today because both Prescott and Darrin are to play."

"And I believe, young ladies, that you're both much nearer to the truth than you have any idea of. In today's game a great deal does depend on Prescott and Darrin."

It was Captain "Hen" Wadleigh, who, pa.s.sing to the rear of the group, had overheard Laura's remark, and had made this addition to her prophecies.

"Here comes the train!" yelled one youth, who was fortunate enough to have a ticket for the day.

Soon after the sound of the whistle had been heard the express rolled in. But this was the first section of the regular train.

By some effort the football crowd was kept off the train. Soon after the second section of the train was sighted as it rolled toward the station.

"Team a.s.semble!" roared Captain Wadleigh.

There was a rush of husky, mop-headed youths in his direction.

Just then a hand rested on d.i.c.k's arm.

"Let me speak with you, just a moment Prescott."

As d.i.c.k turned he found himself looking into the face of Hemingway, plan clothes man to Chief Coy of the Police department.

"I'm awful sorry, lad, but-----" began Hemingway slowly, in a tone of the most genuine regret.

d.i.c.k's face blanched. He scented bad news instantly, though he could not imagine what it was.

"Anyone sick---any accident at home?" asked the young left end.

"Team aboard, first day coach behind the smoker!" roared Captain Wadleigh, and the fellows made a rush.

"The truth is," confessed Hemingway, "I've a war-----"

d.i.c.k saw light in an instant.

"Oh, that wretched Dodge? He has-----"

"Sworn out a warrant for your arrest," nodded Hemingway.

Laura and Belle did not hear or see this. They were hurrying rearward along the train.

Few of the football fellows saw the trouble, for they were busy boarding the car named by Captain Wadleigh.

Dave Darrin was the only one to pay urgent heed.

"See here, Hemingway," began Dave, "d.i.c.k will come back---you know that. He's desperately needed today. Won't it do just as well-----"

"No," broke in the plain-clothes man, reluctantly. "I'd have done that if possible, but Dodge's father put the warrant in my hand and insisted."

"He?" echoed Darrin, bitterly. "The very man that d.i.c.k and I rescued when he was out of his head and in the clutches of scoundrels He? Oh, this is infamous---or crazy!"

"I know it is," nodded Officer Hemingway sympathetically. "But what am I to do when-----"

"Hustle aboard, there, you Prescott and Darrin!" roared Captain Wadleigh's voice from an open window.

"You hear, Hemingway?" urged Dave.

"Yes; but I can't help it," sighed the policeman.

"We're not going---can't-----" fluttered Darrin. His voice was low, but it reached the captain of the eleven.

"What's that?" roared Wadleigh, making a dash for the door of the car. "Keep your seats, you other fellows. I-----"

"You go, Dave---you must!" commanded d.i.c.k. "Hurry! The train is starting. Hustle! Play for both of us."

d.i.c.k gave his chum a push that was compelling. Dave yielded, boarding the step as the end of the car went by him.

"What-----" began Wadleigh, breathlessly.

"I'll explain," panted Darrin angrily.

The train was now in full motion.