“Come here, Dalzell,” called Prescott.  “What was the foul?”

The Fordham players crowded about, muttering in an ugly way—–­all except one man, who skulked at the rear.

“There’s the hoodlum,” continued Dan excitedly, one hand over his left breast.  He pointed to the Fordham player skulking at the rear.  “That fellow deliberately gave me the elbow over the heart when we came together.”

“What have you to say, Captain Barnes?” demanded the referee, turning to the Fordham leader.

“It’s not true,” retorted Barnes hotly.  “Daniels, come here.”

The matter was argued quickly and hotly, Gridley accusing, Fordham hotly denying.

“Can’t you Gridley fellows play with anything but your mouths?” snarled Captain Barnes.

“We play a straight game,” retorted Dick coldly.  “We play like gentlemen.”

“Do you mean that we’re not?” demanded Barnes swaggeringly.

“So far you’ve played like a lot of sluggers.”

“See here!  I’ve a good mind to thrash you, Prescott!” quivered Barnes.

“It’s always the truth that stings,” retorted Dick, with a cool smile.

“My fist would hurt, too.”

“That’s what we’re asking you to do—–­to save all your slugging and bruising tactics until after a straight and gentlemanly game has been played,” retorted Dick, with spirit.

Barnes clenched his fists, but the referee stepped squarely in between the rival captains.

“Cut it!” directed that official tersely.  “I’ll do all the talking myself.  Captain Barnes, return to your men and tell them that slugging and tricky work will be watched for more carefully, and penalized as heavily as the rules allow.  If it goes too far I’ll declare the game forfeited to the visiting team.”

“This is a shame!” fumed Barnes.  “And the whole charge is a mass of lies.”

“I’ll watch out and see,” promised—–­or threatened—–­the referee.  “Back to your positions.  Captain Barnes, I’ll give you thirty seconds to pass the word around among your men.”

“That black-haired prize-fighter with the mole on his chin tries to give me his knee every time we meet in a scrimmage,” growled Hudson to Dick.  “If he carries it any further, I think I know a kick that will put his ankle out of business!”

“Then don’t you dare use it,” warned Dick sternly.  “No matter what the other fellows do, our team is playing a square, honest game every minute of both halves!”

The referee had signaled them to positions.  The Gridley boys leaped into place.

Play was resumed.  In the next three plays Fordham, under the now more keenly watchful eyes of the officials, failed to make the required distance, and lost the ball.

Gridley took the ball, now.  In the next two plays, the smaller fellows advanced the ball some twelve yards.  But in the next three plays following, they lost on downs, and Fordham again carried the pigskin.