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Updated: June 4, 2025
Herr Schimmelpodt was prevailed upon, by Mr. Morton, to come around on another evening to show some further feats with his great strength. Around the waist-line the German was flabby; the fat rolled in heavy ridges. Feeling aware of this defect in personal appearance Herr Schimmelpodt determined to devote some of his abundant leisure to getting his belt line into smaller compass.
Just before the train started Herr Schimmelpodt waddled out to the rear platform of the car. In his right hand he brandished a massive cane to which the Gridley High School colors were secured. "Now, listen," he bellowed out. "Ve come back our scalps not wigs! You hear dot, alretty?"
Schimmelpodt, a wealthy old German contractor, rose from his seat, shouting hoarsely: "Bresgott I gif fifdy tollars by dot Athletic Committee bis you win der game vor Gridley!" The offer brought a laugh and a cheer. Schimmelpodt rarely threw away money. Dick, smiling confidently, stood bat in hand. Most other boys might have felt nervous with so much depending on them.
Roars of laughter greeted some new stunts that Herr Schimmelpodt performed with his human wand. The great German was the only one who seemed unconscious of the hurricane of laughter that he was causing. At last the German put his victim back on the floor. "Yah, young mans, I am much oblige dot you show me how I need eggsercise. I feel much better alretty."
"Vy don't you go on running, ain't it?" demanded Herr Schimmelpodt. A crowd formed about them. The reason why the clerk didn't continue his running was a very good one. One of the German's big hands encircled the clerk's thin arm like a bracelet of steel. The clerk struggled, but he might as well have tried to break out of irons.
Dot's all right. Vot you t'ink Wadleigh has ein head for' Leafe him und Bresgott alone, and dey hand you der game a minute in!" bawled the deep bass voice of Herr Schimmelpodt who, nearly alone of the Gridley boosters, believed that the home team needed no grand stand coaching. "But they've only eight minutes left," grumbled the man sitting to the left of Herr Schimmelpodt. "Yah!
Bayliss was standing near the doorway, while Bert inspected the machinery of the car. "Pest! Look out there," muttered Bayliss, stepping back from the open doorway. "What is it?" demanded Bert. "Oh, I see! Old Schimmelpodt brought the beggar Prescott over here in an auto. That's how the fellow managed to get into the game, after all. Well, what of it all, anyway?"
"Whichever one goes up that flagstaff will come down again faster. He'll be killed!" "Cheer up some more," advised Herr Schimmelpodt stolidly. "It don't gost you nottings, anyway. If Dick Bresgott preak his neck soon, I gif him der bulliest funeral dot any boy in Gridley efer hat." "But what good " began the nervous man tremulously.
Suiting the action to the word, Herr Schimmelpodt grasped the clerk by one shoulder and one thigh. Up over his head the German raised the unhappy young man. Herr Schimmelpodt's arms fell and rose as he "exercised" with the young man for a wand. Everything in the gym. had stopped. All eyes were on this novel performance.
As the first section of the special rolled in at the railway station the part of the crowd that was "going" began to break up into groups headed for the different parts of the train. Herr Schimmelpodt went, of course, to the car that carried the team. The boys wouldn't have been satisfied to start or to travel without him. The big German had come to be the mascot of Gridley High School.
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