“What would you call ’em then?” growled Bayliss angrily.  “Time was when only the fellows of the better families expected to go to High School, on their way to college.  Now, every day-laborer’s son seems to think he ought to go to High School-----”

“And be received with open arms, on a footing of equality,” sneered Porter.

“It’s becoming disgusting,” muttered Bayliss.  “Not only do these cheap fellows expect to go to the High School, but they actually want to run the school affairs.”

“I suppose that’s natural, to some extent,” speculated Porter.

“Why?” demanded Bayliss, turning upon the last speaker in amazement.

“Why, the sons of the poorer families are in a majority, nowadays,” returned Hudson.

“Say, you’re getting almost as bad as Purcell,” warned Porter.

“If I am, I apologize, of course,” responded Hudson.

“I’ve no real objection to the sons of poorer men coming to the High School,” vouchsafed Paulson, meditatively.  “But you know the cream, the finer class of the High School student body, has always centered in the school’s athletic teams.  And now-----”

“Yes; and now-----” broke in Bayliss harshly.

“Why, these fellows, who are not much more than tolerated in the High School, or ought not to be, make the most noise at the meets of the training squads,” continued Paulson.

“And some of ’em,” growled Fremont, “actually have the cheek to carry off honors in scholarship, too.  Take Dick Prescott, for instance.”

“Oh, let the muckers have the scholarship honors, if that’s all they want,” retorted Bayliss “A gentleman hasn’t much need of scholarship, anyway, if he’s an all-around, proper fellow in every other respect.  But the, gang that call themselves Dick & Co. are a fair sample of the muckers that we have to contend with.”

“No,” objected Fremont; “they’re the very worst of the lot in the High School.  Why, look at the advertising those fellows get for themselves.  And not one of them of good family.”

“Fellows of good, prominent families don’t have to advertise themselves,” observed Bayliss sagely.

It was plain that by “good” family was meant one of wealth.  These young men had little else in the way of a standard.

“It makes me cranky,” observed Whitney, “to see the way a lot of the girls seem to notice just such fellows as Prescott, Darrin, Reade, Dalzell—–­fellows who, by rights, ought to be through with their schooling and earning wages as respectful grocery clerks or decent shoe salesmen.”

“But this talk isn’t carrying us anywhere,” objected Bayliss.  “The question is, what are we going to do with the football problem this year?  We don’t want to play in the same eleven with the cheap muckers, and have ’em think they’re the whole eleven.  The call for the football training squad is due to go up some time next week.”

“Bert Dodge says-----” interrupted Paulson.

“Yes, Dodge is the fellow I wish we had here with us today,” interposed Bayliss.  “Dodge is the one we ought to listen to.”