well-to-do families, and not a few
of these boys considered themselves infinitely superior to the class of
boys that helped to make up the Centrals and Souths.

"Let's not have any disagreements," urged Dick coaxingly.

"Then keep these Souths in check," grumbled Hi Martin.

"Don't let the Norths get too fresh just because they have clean collars
every day," advised Ted Teall.

"Fresh? It takes a South Grammar boy to be fresh," sputtered Hi.

"Oh, does it?" sneered Ted. "Dude!"

"Mucker!" responded Hi cheerfully.

"Say, if you could only use your hands as well as you do your mouths,"
sneered Ted, "ten----"

"We do," announced Hi Martin, bounding over in front of Teall.

"Fight! Fight!" howled half a hundred boys gleefully.

Ted Teall was more than willing, and Hi looked as though he were afraid
only of soiling his hands in touching a South Grammar boy. Dick,
however, darted in between the pair, and Darrin, Reade and Dalzell
followed.

"Now, stop all this fooling, fellows," begged Dick. "We all know that
Ted and Hi can fight. What we want to find out is whether there are
brains and muscle enough in town to get three football elevens together.
Ted, put your hands in your pockets. Hi, you move back. We don't want
any fighting here."

"Then that cub will have to stop calling names," retorted Teall.

"You started it yourself," retorted Martin.

"You're another!"

"Fight! Fight!" yelled many of the young onlookers.

Ted was willing, and Martin not unwilling. Crowds surged forward,
threatening to push the North and South champions to close quarters.

"Let's go home, if nobody ain't going to do nuthing," remarked one South
disgustedly.

"Stop all this, fellows--please do," begged Dick once more. "Ted and Hi,
you two show your good sense by shaking hands."

"Shake hands with that?" demanded Hi scornfully, glaring at Teall.

"Shake hands with a high-collared dude?" muttered Ted. "I'd get mobbed
for disgracing my part of the town."

"You are a disgrace, anyway," snapped back Hi.

"Now, you get back, Martin, and let us get down to real football,"
directed Darrin, pushing Martin back several feet. "No; you needn't
glare at me. I won't fight you, at all events, until the football season
is over."

Dalzell was backing up Dave in an effort to keep Martin back. Reade and
Hazelton now placed themselves in front of young Teall.

"Now, come to order, please!" called Dick.

"Hey, Prescott! Who asked you to pr