Drayne did not appear to take his mild snub very seriously.

In fact, after his one outbreak before the team captain, and his subsequent remarks to the girls, Drayne had appeared to fall in line, satisfied even to be a member of the school’s big squad.

The ball was placed for a snap-back, and Coach Morton sounded the whistle.

“Twelve-nine-seventeen—–­twenty-eight—–­four!” called Dave Darrin.

Then the scrimmage was on in earnest.  As soon as the play had properly developed Mr. Morton blew his whistle, for this was practice only in the signal part.

Then Hudson took the ball and Dalzell called off: 

“Nine—–­eight—–­thirteen—–­two!”

Again the ball was put in play, to be stopped after ten seconds.

So it went on through the afternoon’s work.  The substitutes on the side lines watched with deep interest, for they, too, had to learn all the signal work.

Within three afternoons of practice Dick had nearly all of his players so that they knew every signal, and were instantly ready to execute their parts in whatever was called for.

But there was no danger of knowing the signals too well.  Captain Prescott still called out the squad and gave signal work unceasingly.

“The Gridley boys never jumped so swiftly to carry out their signals before, Captain,” spoke Mr. Morton commendingly.

“I want to have this line of work ahead of anything that Tottenville can show next Saturday,” Dick replied.

“I guess you have the Tottenville boys beaten all right,” nodded Mr. Morton.

Tottenville High School always gave one of the stiffest games that Gridley had to meet.  This season Tottenville was first on the list.  Prescott’s young men knew that they had a stiff fight.  It was to take place on the Gridley grounds—–­that was comfort to the home eleven.

The entire student body was now feeling the enthusiasm of the opening of the season on Saturday.

The townsmen of Gridley had subscribed as liberally as ever to the athletics fund.  There had also been a fine advance sale of seats, and the Gridley band had been engaged to make the occasion a lively one.

“You’ll win, if ever the signs were worth anything, Captain,” remarked Mr. Morton to Prescott, at recess Thursday forenoon.

“Of course we’ll win, sir,” laughed Dick.  “That’s the Gridley way—–­that’s all.  We don’t know how to be whipped.  I’ve been taught that ever since I first entered the High School.”

“Pshaw!” muttered Drayne, who was passing.

“Don’t you believe our chances are good, Mr. Drayne?” asked Mr. Morton, smiling.

“I look upon the Gridley chances as being so good, sir,” replied Phin, “that, if I weren’t a member of the squad, and a student of the High School, I think I’d be tempted to bet all I could raise on Tottenville.”

“Betting is too strong a vice for boys, Mr. Drayne,” replied the submaster, rather stiffly.  “And doubt of your own comrades isn’t very good school spirit.”