Whew! It makes me sick when I stop to think that we might have been trapped into giving---er---prejudiced testimony, and that then we might have been shipped off to the reformatory until we're of age!" "Ain't Fred Ripley the sneak, though!" ejaculated Bert angrily.
"The idea of him standing ready to 'queer' a case against his father's clients! I thought Fred had more class and caste than to go against his own crowd for the sake of a mere mucker!" "Well, the thing turned out all right, anyway," muttered Bayliss.
"We're off in time to see the game." "And that's more than Dick Prescott will do today," laughed Bert sullenly.

"He can't catch a train to Tottenville, now, in time for the game." "If Gridley loses the game today," hinted Bayliss, "I suppose the fellows will all feel that it was because Prescott didn't go along.

Then they'll all feel like roasting us." "Oh, bother what the High School ninnies think---or say," grunted Bert.
Fifteen minutes later there was a loud popping sound.

Then a tire flattened out, so that it became necessary for the young men to get out and busy themselves with putting on another tire.
At this task they did not succeed very well until, finally, another automobilist came along and gave the boys effective help.
So it was that, by the time the pair reached Tottenville, housed the car at a garage, and reached Tottenville's High School athletic field, the game was well on.
As the two young men reached the grand stand the Gridley contingent were on their feet, breathless.
Gridley had the ball down to the ten-yard line from Tottenville's goal.

Captain Wadleigh's signals were ringing out, crisp and clear.