"That's the fine Captain Prescott we've heard about!"
Tom Reade, in togs, was standing among the Gridley subs at the
side line.
Tom recognized, as did all the Gridley boys, the voice of Phin
Drayne.
"Yes!" bellowed Tom, facing the gray-clad group. "And that last
speaker was a fellow who was expelled from Gridley High School
for selling out his team!"
It was a swift shot and a bull's-eye. The Fordham Institute boys
had no answer ready for that. Half of them turned to stare at
Phin Drayne, whose guilty face, with color coming and going in
flashes seemed to admit the truth of Reade's taunt.
"Dick," growled Darrin, as they moved forward, after the safety,
to Gridley's twenty-five yard line, "these Fordham fellows are
simply ruffians. They're fouling us every second, and they'll
smash half our fellows into the hospital."
"We'll see about that!"
Dick Prescott's voice was as quiet and cool as ever, but there
was an ominous flash in his eyes.
CHAPTER XV
"We'll Play the Gentleman's Game."
At the next down Dan Dalzell held up his hand, making a dash for
the referee.
"I claim a foul!" he called.
"Captain, this is for you," announced the referee, turning to
Dick. "Be quick, if you've any complaint to make."
"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.
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