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Updated: June 11, 2025
As the group of "soreheads" contained a few young men who were really absolutely necessary to the success of the Gridley High School football eleven, the strife threatened to put Gridley in the back row as far as football went. But Dick, with his characteristic vigor, went after the "soreheads" in the columns of "The Blade."
Thursday's article was just the kind of a one that was calculated to make every football enthusiast eager to see the season open in full swing. Again the "soreheads" came to school, and once more they had to pass the silent groups of their fellow students, who stood with heads turned away. The reign of Coventry seemed complete.
"Do you mean," hinted Hazelton, "that the soreheads are down on football because they prefer automobiles?" "No." Dick Prescott shook his head emphatically. "By Jove, Dick, I believe you're right," suddenly exclaimed Dave Darrin. "So you see my point, old fellow?" "I'm sure I do." "I'm going to get examined for spectacles, then," sighed Dan plaintively. "I can't see a thing."
Since the school year had opened, however, undercurrent news had been rife that there would be many "soreheads," and that this would be an "off year" in Gridley football. Just where the trouble lay, or what the "kick" was about, was a puzzle to most members of the student body. It was an actual mystery to Dick & Co.
The "soreheads" looked at each other in puzzled silence. "What are we going to do?" demanded Fremont. "How are we going to hit back at a fellow who has a newspaper that he can use as a club on your head?" "We might have a piece put in 'The Evening Mail," hinted Porter, after a dazed silence. "That's the rival paper." "Yes!" chimed in Bayliss, eagerly.
Good-humored avoidance is excellent treatment to accord a snob, and this, as far as possible, had been the plan of Dick & Co. and of the other average boy at the High School. "Let us see," broke in Dick, suddenly, "who are the soreheads in the football line?" "Well, Davis and Cassleigh, of the senior class, for two," replied Dave Darrin.
"Oh, well," Dick interrupted, "let us admit that some of the fellows on the sorehead list have never been in jail, and have never been threatened with it. But I am sure that Dave has guessed my meaning right. The soreheads, who number a dozen of rather valuable pigskin men, are on strike just because some of us poorer fellows are in it." "What nonsense!" ejaculated Greg Holmes disgustedly.
As the quartette passed, several of the little groups of fellow students ceased their talk and turned away from the four "soreheads." Then, after the quartette had passed, quiet little laughs were heard. All four mounted the steps of the building with heightening color. Before the door, talking together, stood Fred Ripley and Purcell, whom the "soreheads" had endeavored to enlist.
"Let the 'soreheads' form the Sons of Tax-payers Eleven, and we'll organize a Sons of poor but Honest Parents Eleven. Then we'll play them the best two out of three games for the honor of representing Gridley High School this year." "Bright, but not practicable," objected Dick patiently.
After going the first hundred yards Dick Prescott let himself out into a loping run, very much like that used by the "soreheads" in getting back to town. With a trained runner the cross-country style of running is suited for getting over long distances at fair speed. Twenty minutes later young Prescott reached a farm house in which there was a telephone. He asked permission to use the instrument.
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