Old Pollock is as mum as the grave about such things.

Now, so long, Dick, old fellow.

I've got to run down to the end of this alley to call on a sick friend.

Then I'll hustle out and get a barrelful of interviews that will cinch and rivet football on Gridley H.S.for a century to come!" As Len Spencer vanished through one of the doorways Dick Prescott turned toward the street.

As he did so, he jumped back.
"We want you, freshie!" declared Frank Thompson, grimly.