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"You can't make a weight fight against Tottenville, for those fellows weigh a hundred and fifty pounds more, to the team, than you do. They're savage, swift, clever players, too, those Tottenville youths. What you take away from them you'll have to win by strategy." So the Gridley boys were drilled again and again in all the special points of field strategy that Coach Morton knew or could invent.
You'll read us some exciting stuff, and get us all worked up, and then in the last paragraph you'll stumble on the fact that some well-known Tottenville man was cured of all his ailments by Brown's Blood Bitters." "Can you hold your tongue a minute?" demanded Greg ironically. "Not when I see you headed that way," retorted Reade.
That trolley, to Tottenville really belongs to the next and final volume in this series, which is published under the title, "The High School Boys' Training Hike; Or, Making Themselves 'Hard as Nails." This new story will be found to contain the full record of a most wonderful vacation jaunt taken by six young champions of the Gridley High School football squad.
Captain Prescott still called out the squad and gave signal work unceasingly. "The Gridley boys never jumped so swiftly to carry out their signals before, Captain," spoke Mr. Morton commendingly. "I want to have this line of work ahead of anything that Tottenville can show next Saturday," Dick replied. "I guess you have the Tottenville boys beaten all right," nodded Mr. Morton.
A whistle sounded. Then the ball was put swiftly into play. Tottenville put up a sturdy resistance against Gridley's left end. Dave Darrin had the ball, and appeared to be trying to break through the Tottenville line, well backed by Gridley's interference.
"Prescott?" he muttered. "Blazes, but that is Prescott!" faltered Bayliss, with a sickly grin. "How did he ever get over here in time to play?" demanded Bert Dodge. Herr Schimmelpodt could have told. The stout, sport-loving old contractor had parted with some of his greenbacks to a chauffeur who had put Dick and himself over the long road to Tottenville.
Despite the failure of Dick to bring in this particular story, however, the "Blade," the next morning, printed more than a column from the data furnished by Mr. Luce. Dick, however, didn't hear of it -in Gridley. It was Harry Hazelton, who, at four o'clock, mounted a horse he had hired for the trip and rode over to Tottenville, where the camp wagon was obtained from Mr. Newbegin Titmouse.
But I really did spend five-fifty in advertising the wagon in the Tottenville and Gridley papers this summer, so I'm fifty cents ahead, anyway, and a fifty-cent piece is always equivalent to half a dollar!" With which sage reflection Mr. Newbegin Titmouse went out into his small orchard to see whether he had overlooked any summer apples that were worth two dollars a barrel.
Rather than alight at Gridley, and face the whole High School crowd -for scores who had not been able to meet the expense of the trip to Tottenville would be sure to be at the station to meet the victorious team -Bert and Bayliss rode on to the next station, then got off and walked two miles back to town. By Monday morning the punishment of the pair was made complete.
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.
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