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In the meantime the Cobber fans, as was their right, were hurling the most abusive cheers and taunts. Dick, as cheer-master, allowed this to pass until nearly the end of the intermission. At last he gave the sudden call through the megaphone: "Twenty-three!" The number sounded ominous; so did the cheer that was designated by it.
The people on the grand stands did not pay much heed to the practice work. They knew that the players were merely warming up. Coach Morton came down along the side lines, halting close to the cheer-master and his assistant. After the first greeting Mr. Morton turned his eyes anxiously toward the field. The day was ideal -not too cold.
Dick Prescott was appointed cheer-master for the great Thanksgiving Day game. More, Dick was to name any one of his chums as assistant cheer-master. As the cheer-master bosses the noise that is so indispensable a part of the game, the honor that had come to young Prescott was no mean one. No Gridley freshman had ever before achieved it.
At the smaller stand, over at the east side of the field, Lehigh had some two hundred friends and rooters. Now on to the field marched the corps of cadets, filing into the seats reserved for them, just north of the officers' seats. Now, the band began to play the U.S.M.A. songs, the cadets joining in under the leadership of the cheer-master.
They were disappointed, but they realized that Prescott and Holmes had entered the game under brilliant promise, yet without training. Dutifully the cadet cheer-master kept at his work, but now the responses came with less volume from the corps of cadets, who were truly sitting on anxious seats. In the interval of rest, Lieutenant Carney talked anxiously with Brayton.
Even the cadets had risen to their feet, every man's eye turned on the diamond, while the cadet cheer-master danced up and down, ready to spring the yell of triumph if only Carter and the player on deck could give the chance. Lieutenant Lawrence wiped his perspiring face and neck. The coach probably suffered more than any other man on the field.
Dick left to his partners the selection of assistant cheer-master. They settled on Dave Darrin. Once upon a time Thanksgiving Day was an orgie conducted in honor of that national bird, the turkey. In these happier days, in every live community, the turkey must wait until the football game has been fought out. Then the adherents of one eleven eat crow.
That was Gridley's specialty for this game, one long planned and worked for. Quarter-back Winters again got the ball. With a handsome forward pass he made it Thompson's, and it went to the enemy's seven-yard line. "Question -four!" appealed Cheer-Master Prescott, through the megaphone. Back from twenty boys on the home stand came the heavy query: "Where's Cobber? Where's Cobber?"
The cry was taken up by other delegates, just as the unthinking mob follows a cheer-master. Farr climbed upon a settee. He stood there, silent and waiting, and his expression, poise, and mien wrought for him more effectively than speech. He towered over all the heads. He was markedly not one of those New-Englanders there assembled.
Dick was through, and the Navy men were having all they do. In a twinkling Prescott had sped, on, now was he caught and downed until he had the ball within twelve yards of the Navy's goal line. Right off the Army cheer-master was on the job. The corps yell was raised with Prescott's name and Holmes's. Brayton looked flushed and happy. He hoped yet to show these over-confident middies something.
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