“I hope you’re going to win, Prescott,” said Mr. Macey, meeting Dick on the street one afternoon not long before Thanksgiving.

“Have you any doubts, sir?” smiled the captain of the Gridley team.

“Well, you see, Fordham was my native town.  I run down there often, and I know a good deal of what’s going on there.  Fordham’s second coach has attended the last two games you played, and he has been stealing all your points that he could get.”

“He has, eh?” muttered Prescott.  “That’s news to me.  Oh, well, it’s legitimate to learn all you can about another team’s play.”

“From the reports Fordham has of your play the young men over in that town are certain that they’re enough better to be able to bring your scalps into camp.”

“Perhaps they’ll do it,” laughed Dick pleasantly.  “We’ll admit that we’re about due for a walloping whenever the crowd comes along that can do it.”

“I am only telling you what I hear from Fordham,” continued Mr. Macey.

“And I’m glad you did, sir.  We’ll try to turn the laugh on Fordham.”

“Then you think you can beat ’em?”

“No, sir.  We never think we can.  We always know that we can!  That’s the Gridley way—–­the Gridley spirit.  We always win our battles before we go into them, Mr. Macey.  We make up our minds that we can’t and won’t be beaten.  It isn’t just brag, though.  We base all our positiveness on the way that we stick to our training and coaching, and on our discipline.  Mr. Macey, this is the third year that I’ve been playing on different Gridley High School teams.  I remember a tie game, but no defeats.”

“I guess Fordham will find it a hard enough proposition to down you young men,” remarked Mr. Macey.

“They’re going to discover, sir, that they simply can’t do it.  Gridley never goes onto any field to get beaten.”

“Und dot isn’t brag, neider,” broke in a man who had halted to listen.  “Ven dese young men pack deir togs to go away, dey pack der winning score in der bag, too.  Ach!  Don’t I know dot?  Don’t I make mineself young vonce more by following dese young athletes about?”

Herr Schimmelpodt looked utterly shocked that anyone should think it possible for another High School eleven to take a game from Gridley.

Dick soon encountered Dave and told him the news he had gleaned from Mr. Macey.

“Been sending their second coach over to watch our play, have they?” laughed Darrin softly.  “That seems to show how much they fear us in Fordham.”

“I believe we are going to have a stiff game,” muttered Prescott.  “Hallam Heights and Fordham are the only two teams that think enough of the game to hire two coaches.”

“Well, we have Hallam’s scalp dangling down at the gym.,” laughed Dave Darrin.

“And we’ll have Fordham’s in the same way,” predicted Dick confidently.

It barely occurred to the young captain of the team to wonder what it would mean for him if the game to Fordham should be lost.  Dick would be the first captain in years who had lost a football game for Gridley.  It would be a mean record to take out of High School life.  But Dick gave no thought to such a possibility.