“Prescott’s here.  He and Darrin can put anything over in the line of craft,” laughed Fred Ripley.

Ripley was in togs, but was not playing.  He was on the sub line, today, awaiting a call in case any player of his team became disabled.

“Darrin and Prescott are all right,” nodded Wadleigh gruffly.  “But they have endurance limits, like other human beings.  Don’t rely too much upon any two or three men, fellows.  Now, in the second half”—–­here Wadleigh lowered his voice—–­“I’m going to spare Prescott and Darrin all I can.  So you other fellows look out for hard work.”

Dick’s eyes were still flashing.  This was not from the fever of the game, but from the recollection of how narrowly he had escaped being tricked out of this chance to play today.

On his arrival, and while dressing before the game, Prescott had related to the team the mean trick that had been played upon him.  He had also told how the case came out in court.

“Dodge and Bayliss are traitors to the school!” cried Purcell indignantly.  “We’ll have to give ’em the silence!”

“Hear!  Hear!” cried several of the fellows.

This, in other words, meant that Dodge and Bayliss would be “sent to Coventry”—–­shut out from all social contact with the school body during the remainder of the school year.

“I think I’m with you, fellows,” nodded Captain Wadleigh.  “However, remember that the football team can’t settle all school questions.  We’ll take this up when we get back to Gridley.”

In the second half it was not long before Gridley did go stale and tired.  But so, too, to the disgust of home boosters, did the Tottenville High School boys.

The game became a sheer test of endurance.  Gridley, under Wadleigh, played with a doggedness that made Tottenville put forth all its strength.

“Brace up, you lobsters,” growled Captain Grant of the home team, after the whistle had sounded on Tottenville’s “down” with the ball.  “Buck the simple Gridley youths.  Wade through their line as if you fellows were going to dinner half an hour late.  Don’t let them wind you, or stop you!”

Tottenville threw all its force into the following plays.  Surely, doggedly, the home boys forced the ball down the gridiron.  At last Gridley was forced to make a safety, thus scoring two points for their opponents.

“Don’t let that happen again, fellows,” urged Wadleigh anxiously.  “Fight for time, but don’t throw any two-spots away.”

“Rally, men!  Brace!  Crush ’em!” ordered Captain Grant.  “Seven minutes left!  We’ve got to score.”

These muttered orders caused a grim smile among the Tottenville High School boys, for the only way to tie the score would be to force Gridley to make two more safeties—–­a hard thing to do against a crack eleven in seven minutes!

Dick and Dave Darrin were called into play as soon as the visitors had the ball in their own hands once more.