CHAPTER IX

BAYLISS GETS SOME ADVICE

On that fateful Thursday morning every High School boy, and nearly
every High School girl saw "The Blade."

The morning paper, however, contained no allusion whatever to
the football remarks of the day before.

Instead, there was an article descriptive of the changes to be
made out at the High School athletic field this present year,
and there were points and "dope" (as the sporting parlance phrases
it) concerning the records and rumored new players of other High
School elevens that were anxious to meet Gridley on the gridiron
this coming season.

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. Never
before had any of the "soreheads" understood so thoroughly the
meaning of loneliness.

At recess all the talk was of football. None of this talk, however,
was heard by the "soreheads." Whenever any of these went near
the other groups the talk ceased instantly. There was no comfort
in the yard, that morning, for a "sorehead."

When school let out that afternoon, at one o'clock, Bayliss, Fremont,
Dodge and their kind scurried off fast. No one offered to stop
them. These "exclusive" young men could not get away from the
fact that exclusion was freely accorded them.

Fred Ripley, as had been his wont in other years when he was a
freshman, walked homeward with Clara Deane.

"Fred, you haven't got yourself mixed up at all with that 'sorehead'
crowd, have you?" Miss Deane asked.

"Not much!" replied Fred, with emphasis. "I want to play football
this year."

"Will all the 'soreheads' be kept out of the eleven, even if they
come to their senses?" Clara inquired.

"Now, really, you'll have to ask me an easier one than that,"
replied Fred Ripley laughingly.

"I had an idea that all of the fellows whose families are rather
comfortably well off might be in the movement---or the strike or
whatever you call it," Clara replied.

"Oh, no; there's a lot of us who haven't gone in with the kickers---and
glad we are of it," Fred replied.

"Still, don't you believe in any importance attaching to the fact
that one comes of one of the rather good old families?" asked
Clara Deane thoughtfully.