tle
cry raging in every Gridley boy's heart.

Four successive plays carried the ball so close to the Fordham
goal line that Barnes and his followers were in despair.

They still used whatever rough tricks they thought they could
sneak in under the eyes of the game's officials, and some of
these made the Gridley boys ache.

Then came a signal beginning with "three" which stood for reverse
signal. The numerals that came after the three called for the
same trick that Fenton had put through so splendidly.

Again the ball started toward the right wing. This time the Fordham
players were sure they understood---and like a flash massed their
defense against Gridley's left.

But on that reverse signal the ball continued to move at the right.
Before Barnes and his followers could comprehend, another touchdown
had been scored by the visitors.

And then came the kick for goal, and it was a splendid success.
The kick came just at the end of the second half. That kick
won the game for Dick's sorely pressed team.

Gridley's score, won by a cleanly played game against bruisers,
stood at twelve to eight!

Now, indeed, did the Gridley boosters turn themselves loose, the
band leading.

Barnes and his ruffians skulked back to dressing quarters, there
to abuse the referee, the "Gridley kickers" and everyone and
everything else but themselves.

It wasn't long before some of the Fordham subs slipped out to
find their cronies and sympathizers in the crowd that was slowly
dissolving.

Then the word was passed around:

"Wait and be with us. Barnes is going to stop the Gridleys on
the way to the station. Barnes is going to make Prescott fight
for some things he said on the field! Of course, if you fellows
get generally peevish, and the whole Gridley team gets cleaned
out, there won't be many tears shed."

So scores of the sort of rabble in whom such an appeal finds
ready response hung about, eager to see what would turn up.

CHAPTER XVII

The Long Gray Column

One small urchin there was, so small that he escaped notice as
he hung about hearing the word passed.

But that urchin was a Gridley boy who had raised the money to
come and see this game. The boy possessed the Gridley spirit.
As fast as his legs would carry him he raced to dressing quarters,
and there told what he had heard.

"Thank you, kid!" said Dick. "You're a good Gridley boy," and
then he continued:

"So that's the game, is it They're goi