"Gridley can't win!" the pessimists predicted.
Even the heartiest well-wishers of Gridley H.S. felt, mournfully,
that too big a contract had been undertaken.
Dick & Co., however, under the inspiring influence of their leader,
were all to the hopeful.
"We'll win," Dick proclaimed, "because Gridley needs the game.
When Gridley folks go after anything they won't take 'no' for
an answer. That's the spirit of the town, and the High School
is worthy of all the traditions of the town."
"Talk's cheap, and brag's a good dog!" sneered Ripley.
Three sophomores who overheard the remark promptly "bagged" Fred
and threw him over the school yard fence.
"Come back with any more of that," warned one of the hazers, "and
we'll scour your intellect at the town pump."
Being a freshman, Prescott didn't say too much. Neither did his
chums. Yet what they did say was bright and hopeful. Their spirit
began to soak through the student body.
"You see, gentlemen," Coach Morton warned the football squad one
morning at recess, "you've _got_ to win. The school believes
you can do it, and the town is beginning to believe it. If you
lose to Cobber Second you'll forfeit the respect of all the thousands
of Gridley folks who are now saying nice things about you."
"Write it down," begged Thompson. "We're going to beat Cobber
Second off the gridiron."
"Good!" cheered Mr. Morton. "That's the talk. And be sure you
live up to it!"
"We've got to live up to it," asserted Thomp, solemnly.
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