"Whew! It seems mighty good to be in the fresh air once more,
after being in the same room with Fred Ripley," muttered the freshman.
"Hello, Dickens, kid," called a voice from behind, and an
arm rested on his shoulder.
"Hello, Ben," replied Prescott, looking around.
"I just wanted to say that the senior ball comes off Saturday
night of this week. You're going to get one of the few freshman
tickets. The ticket allows you to invite one of the girls. Now,
remember, freshie, we depend upon you to be there."
Dick started to object. Well enough he knew that there would
be few freshmen at the senior dance, which was the most exclusive
affair in the High School year.
"You can't kick," rattled on Badger. "You'll get thrashed, if
you do. Didn't I tell you that there'll be very few freshman
tickets sent out? Only six, in fact. Dick & Co. are going to
hog all the freshman tickets. That's largely on account of what
you youngsters have done for football and athletics in general.
Lad, this is the last year that the seniors will have a chance
to see anything of Dick & Co. So you simply can't stay away from
the senior ball. Not a single member of Dick & Co. can be excused
from attending."
"We'll see about it," replied Dick.
"No, you won't! It has all been seen to. The six of you are
going to be on hand---with six stunning girls, too!"
"I thank you, anyway; I thank you all heartily for this very unusual
honor," Dick protested.
"That's all right, then; it's settled," proclaimed Ben Badger,
with an air of finality.
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