Now pandemonium broke loose.  Two thousand people leaped up and down, yelling themselves hoarse.

So many hats went into the air that it was a miracle if every man recovered his own headgear.

The band didn’t play; the student body didn’t sound a yell.  What would have been the use?  There was too much noise.

Dick made a bound, landing beside the band leader.

“Hustle your men, please!  Get out into the field and lead our men off.”

It needed quick work, for the players were already leaving the grounds.  The wildest fans were getting over the lines, mingling with the late players.

But the band got there on the run.  Above all the din Ben Badger was quick to realize the meaning of the new move.  He caught his men back, forming them just behind the forming band.  Off marched the victorious team to the air of “Hot Time!” That brought down the cheering harder than ever.

While it lasted, Dick and Dave, by frantic movements, succeeded in holding a large proportion of the student body back in their seats.

As soon as the band had reached the far end of the field, and the human racket had died down somewhat, Freshman Prescott succeeded in making himself heard: 

“Now!  Our final yell of victory!”

This was the High School yell, followed, instantly, by the taunting query: 

“Is there any game you do play, Cobber?”

But there came no answer from the depths of the gloomy Cobber fans.

CHAPTER XVII

DICK’S “FIND” MAKES GRIDLEY SHIVER

That closed the football season in a blaze of glory.  Gridley H.S. had closed the year without a defeat.

The day after Thanksgiving football is deader than marbles.  Gridley H.S. boys and girls settled down to study until the holidays came on.

The next thing of note that happened in the student world jarred the whole town.  There might have been a much bigger jar, however.

Dave Darrin often worked, Saturday nights, in the express office.

One night in early December he was employed there as usual.  At about nine o’clock Dick Prescott and Tom Reade dropped in.

“Pretty near through, old fellow?” Dick asked.

“I will be when the 8:50 gets in and the goods are checked up,” replied Dave.  “The train is a few minutes late tonight.”

There being no one else at the office, except the night manager and two clerks, Dick and Reade felt that they would not be in the way if they waited for Dave.

Twenty minutes later the wagon drove up with the packages and cases that had arrived on the 8:50 train.

“You two can give a hand, if you like,” invited Dave, as the packages were being passed up to the counter, checked and taken care of.

Prescott and Reade pitched in, working with a will.