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Updated: May 26, 2025
But as "Hail Columbia" belongs to all Americans, the Cobbers elected to flash their bunting, too. Suddenly the music paused. Then came pressing contempt for the hostile eleven: "All coons look alike to me!" Cobber's friends took the hint in an instant. To a man the visiting delegation arose, hurling out the Cobber yell in round, deep-chested notes.
In two plays the doughty High School boys carried the pigskin eight yards. Only nine to go! As Badger's signals rang out for the third pass, Badger's men were seen to spread. Another fake kick? Then the ball went backward. Winters, of course, took it. Like magic, while watchful Cobber stood opened up, the Gridley line closed in again. Artful Dodger Winters still had the ball.
The band was stationed close to the ground, in the center of the stand reserved for the High School student body. Off the right of the band rose four tiers of bright-faced, wholesome-looking High School girls. To the left of the band sat the boys. Across the field, on a much smaller stand, sat the hundred or so followers of the team from Cobber. The Cobbers had no band.
He started Gridley faces to glowing again, for Winters did one of the things that had made the team famous. This was the Gridley fake kick. With any lesser team it would have been good for twenty-five yards. Even against the big, alert fellows from Cobber that fake kick was good for eight yards. But not yet did the full effect of the move come.
Even the heavy Cobber men, though they advanced doggedly, did not make any too great progress. Down at the Gridley fifteen-yard line the High School boys developed their greatest stubbornness and strength. So well did they oppose the college boys that, by preventing progress in three successive plays, the home boys again got the ball. They could not move it sufficiently far forward, however.
With Sam Edgeworth at their head they went past the visitors' seats, and received the most thundering welcome that Cobber knew how to give. Passing the two grand stands the captains wheeled their men marching them out into the field. Two footballs bounded from the side lines, and both teams began preliminary practice plays. After that the band played a couple of lively airs.
Yet Gridley folks stirred uneasily. "That's what comes of putting a freshman, without judgment, on the calling job," muttered Fred Ripley sarcastically. The whistle blew. Cobber got the ball, and kept it moving. Once there was a brief setback when Gridley got the pigskin and sought to push it back. After four yards, however, Cobber took it and moved down the field with it.
Gordon counted out the money reluctantly, while Izzy explained that they were going to be cops. The old man shook his head, estimating what was left to Gordon. "Enough to buy a corporal's job, pay for your suit, and maybe get by," he decided. "Don't do it, cobber. You're the wrong kind. You take what you're doing serious. When you set out to tinhorn a living, you're a crook.
"Lay off, Mother," Izzy said sharply. "I told you I had to do it. I take care of the side that pays my cut, and the bloody administration pulled the plug on my beat twice. Only honest thing to do was to join the Legals." "And get your rating upped to a lieutenant," Mother Corey observed. "Without telling cobber Gordon!" "Like I say, honesty pays, Mother when you know how to collect.
Gordon's money had carried more weight than his brother's reputation; for that, Corey humored his guest's wish for privacy. "All yours, cobber, while your crackle's blue." It was a filthy, dark place. In one corner was an unsheeted bed. There was a rusty bucket for water, a hole kicked through the floor for waste water.
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