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The conversation again turned to the subject of the coming football season, and an animated discussion ensued, as Sub-master Luce was an enthusiastic advocate of football. Suddenly, Dick, glancing ahead out of the window, turned pale. Without a word of explanation he sprang from his seat and made a bound for the nearer car door, the rear one. "Everyone off! Stop the car!
The next morning at 8 A.M. the sub-master of the ceremonies rings a bell at the door of each cell; at half-past eight he rings again; and at nine a third time, adding in a loud voice the summons, "In capellam Domini!"
The little girl he snatched from her tiny brother's clasp. "Here!" called Sub-master Luce from the further side. Brief as the time was Dick Prescott calculated the distance like lightning. There was no time to call back to Mr. Lucen -nor need to do so. Aiming with all the precision at his command, Dick threw the child from him.
Luce, for Dick, as our readers know, earned many a dollar as a "space-writer"; that is, he was paid so much a column for furnishing and writing up local news. "Dick went out about ten minutes ago," replied Mr. Pollock. "Was he here long?" "About fifteen minutes." "By the way, Mr. Pollock," the sub-master went on, "what do you think of Dick's latest feat?" "Which one?"
Then the sub-master told the story of the burning load of hay in a way that made the "Blade's" editor reach hastily for pencil and paper that he might take notes. "That's just the kind of story that Dick Prescott never could be depended upon to bring in here -if he was the central character in it," observed the editor quietly.
Dick, as soon as he reached Gridley, went up to Greg Holmes' house, where he knew his chums would be waiting to learn the result of his Tottenville trip. That evening Sub-master Luce chanced to take a stroll up Main Street. As the offices of the "Morning Blade" were lighted up, Mr. "Is Prescott about?" asked Mr.
We're all of us in pretty good shape, too, I think, sir; but we're going out on this training hike to see if we can't work ourselves down as hard as nails." "I'd like to go with you," nodded the sub-master. "Can't you do it, sir?" asked Dick eagerly, for Mr. Luce was a favorite with all the boys. "Unfortunately, I can't," replied the submaster. "I'm expected at home.
In the fourteenth century, however, these alien monks withdrew to their mother house, and in 1380 the Priory of St Nicholas in Arundel was reconverted into a collegiate church. This college consisted of a master and sub-master, ten chaplains, two deacons, two sub-deacons, and five choristers. The choir of the church was the chapel of the college, the remainder being parochial.
"It was just like Dick Prescott," replied John Luce simply. As soon as possible Dick and the sub-master made their escape from the earnest protestations of gratitude of the farmer and his wife, though they did not go until Mr.
"He's already the most capable sub-master in Gridley High School and the finest coach the Gridley football squad ever had." "He's also an A No.1 trout fisherman," Dick went on. "Fellows, we mustn't tell everyone about this trout stream, but Mr. Morton is such an all around fine fellow that I think we owe it to him to tell him, when we see him, just how to reach this brook."
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