The laughter started on the Gridley side, but it spread all the way around to the Cobber seats.

As the minutes flew by it became apparent, from a survey of the filled seats, that at least two thousand, outside of the Cobber and the Gridley H.S. delegations, were present at the game.  This meant a healthful addition to the athletics fund.

By and by Cobber recovered its nerve on the seats.  Cobber yells floated forth on the air.  Yet, for every sing-song taunt the visitors found that the home fans had an apt retort.  This was where Dick Prescott’s ready wit came in, for it was his task to call for all the cheers, yells, songs or taunts.

Two-thirty came.  Dick called for the High School song.  The band accompanied, while the entire student body sang.

At its completion Cobber answered, as might have been expected, with cat calls.

Within the next few minutes Dick ran the H.S. boosters through nearly the whole repertory of cheers and songs.

Then, just after quarter of three, Dave made an important discovery.

“Here come the teams,” he whispered.

Dick, without turning to look, swung the megaphone so that its wide mouth aimed straight at the band leader.

“You know what now, leader!”

In a twinkling the musicians rose.  A cornetist flared forth with a bugle call.  Down came the leader’s baton.  The bugle call shaded off into a single strain from the band.  Then out crashed:  “See, the conquering hero comes!”

With both teams marching onto the field the call was for courtesy.  Gridley H.S. and Cobber rose in their seats.  The other spectators, mostly, also stood up.  Cobber Second came marching around in review before Gridley H.S. seats, and received a rattling volley of good, staunch old American cheers.

Gridley H.S. eleven took the other side of the field.  With Sam Edgeworth at their head they went past the visitors’ seats, and received the most thundering welcome that Cobber knew how to give.

Passing the two grand stands the captains wheeled their men marching them out into the field.  Two footballs bounded from the side lines, and both teams began preliminary practice plays.

After that the band played a couple of lively airs.  The people on the grand stands did not pay much heed to the practice work.  They knew that the players were merely warming up.

Coach Morton came down along the side lines, halting close to the cheer-master and his assistant.  After the first greeting Mr. Morton turned his eyes anxiously toward the field.

The day was ideal—–­not too cold.  Though the sun was out, there was some cloudiness, yet without a sign of rain or snow.  The field was in excellent shape for a fast game.

“Why, Dick, you’re trembling!” grunted Dave Darrin, in amazement.

“I know it,” Prescott confessed, half guiltily.