“Fellows,” proposed Thompson, “we owe this freshie-----”

“Stop that!” roared one of the fellows.  “Prescott may be young—–­painfully young—–­but he’s no freshie.”

“Then,” amended Thompson, with grave dignity, “we owe a handsome reward to this—–­upper classman.  May I tell him what the reward is to be?”

“Go ahead, Thomp!” came an answering roar.

“Then, listen, Prescott.  For the great deed you have done for Gridley H.S. football every member of Dick & Co. deserves undying fame.  As I can’t be sure of our ability to confer that, we’ll do the next best thing.  In years and class you’re all six of you freshmen.  Now, what is expected of a freshman?”

“Why,” laughed Dick, “as I understand it, a freshman is a fellow who doesn’t dare to be fresh.”

“Hear! hear!” yelled a dozen voices.

“In that respect,” proclaimed Thompson, solemnly, “Dick & Co. shall no longer be freshman at Gridley H.S.!  If the spirit seizes any of you, then go ahead and be fresh—–­of course, not too fresh!  Mix in with the upper classmen, all of you, if you want to.  Have your opinions, and don’t be afraid to let ’em out—–­if you can’t hold in any longer.  To the upper class dances this winter Dick & Co. shall have a bid—–­if you’ll all learn how to walk and glide across a waxed floor.  Remember, when you’re among the fellows, you don’t have to keep in the back freshmen row—–­but see to it that you don’t encourage general mutiny in your class against the superior upper classes.  Finally, you can get sassy with all upper classman whenever any of you six want to—–­all you’ll have to do, further, will be to fight.”

Another round of cheers confirmed Thompson’s declaration.

“Now, fellows, get a move on!” bawled Sam Edgeworth, captain of the football eleven.  “We’ve barely time to get to the field and meet Coach Morton punctually.”

“Will you let me make one request?” shouted Dick, over the hubbub.

“Yes.  Go ahead!  Get it out quick!”

“Then please don’t let out a word,” begged young Prescott, “about Dick & Co., as we fellows are called, being at the bottom of the plot against the Board of Education.”

“Not a word!” promised Captain Edgeworth, gravely.

Then Dick was hustled good-naturedly to the door, Ben Badger once more springing forward to hold it open.  As Dick hurried out onto the sidewalk a hurricane of cheers followed him.  Then, as the door was closing, came a fierce burst of the High School yell.

Just as it happened, this parting salute couldn’t have been worse timed.  Within four doors Dr. Thornton, the principal, was sauntering slowly along.  He heard tine hubbub, of course, and looked up, to see Dick Prescott coming out alone, a pleased look on his flushed face.

Across the street, just coming out of a store, was Chairman Jason Stone of the Gridley Board of Education.