The High School Freshmen - Dick & Co.'s First Year Pranks and Sports

H. Irving (Harrie Irving) Hancock

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• Publié par: thoen
• Publié le: 08 décembre 2010
• Nombre de lectures: 18
• Langue: English

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The Project Gutenberg EBook of The High School
Freshmen, by H. Irving Hancock
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Title: The High School Freshmen Dick & Co.'s First
Year Pranks and Sports
Author: H. Irving Hancock
Release Date: June 23, 2004 [EBook #12689]
Language: English
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG
EBOOK THE HIGH SCHOOL FRESHMEN ***
Produced by Jim Ludwig
THE HIGH SCHOOL FRESHMEN
or
Dick & Co.'s First Year Pranks and SportsBy H. Irving Hancock
CONTENTS
CHAPTERS
I. "The High School Sneak"
II. Dick & Co. After the School Board's Scalps
III. Not So Much of a Freshman
IV. Captain of the Hounds
V. The "Muckers" and the "Gentleman"
VI. Fred Offers to Solve the Locker Mystery
VII. Dick's Turn to Get a Jolt
VIII. Only a "Suspended" Freshman Now
IX. Laura Bentley is Wide Awake
X. Tip Scammon Talks—-But Not Enough
XI. The Welcome With a Big "W"
XII. Dick & Co. Give Football a New Boost
XIII. "The Oath of the Dub"
XIV. On the Gridiron with Cobber Second
XV. Gridley Faces Disaster
XVI. The Fake Kick, Two Ways
XVII. Dick's "Find" Makes Gridley Shiver
XVIII. Fred Slides into the Freeze
XIX. Dick & Co. Show Some Team Work
XX. Out for That Toboggan
XXI. Thanks Served with Hate
XXII. The Only Freshman at the Senior Ball
XXIII. The Nitroglycerine Mystery Speaks Up
XXIV. The Capture of the Bank Robbers
XXV. ConclusionCHAPTER I
THE HIGH SCHOOL SNEAK
"I say you did!" cried Fred Ripley, hotly. Dick
Prescott's cheeks turned a dull red as he replied,
quietly, after swallowing a choky feeling in his
throat:
"I have already told you that I did not do it."
"Then who did do the contemptible thing?" insisted
Ripley, sneeringly.
Fully forty boys, representing all the different
classes at the Gridley High School, stood looking
on at this altercation in the school grounds. Half a
dozen of the girls, too, hovered in the background,
interested, or curious, though not venturing too
close to what might turn out to be a fight in hot
blood.
"If I knew," rejoined Dick, in that same quiet voice,
in which one older in the world's ways might have
detected the danger-signal, "I wouldn't tell you."
"Bah!" jeered Fred Ripley, hotly.
"Perhaps you mean that you don't believe me?"
said Prescott inquiringly.
"I don't!" laughed Ripley, shortly, bitterly."Oh!"
A world of meaning surged up in that exclamation.
It was as though bright, energetic, honest Dick
Prescott had been struck a blow that he could not
resent. This, indeed, was the fact.
"See here, Ripley——-" burst, indignantly, from
Dick Prescott's lips, as his face went white and
then glowed a deeper red than before.
"Well, kid?" sneered Ripley.
"If I didn't have a hand—-the right hand, at that—-
that is too crippled, today, I'd pound your words
down your mouth."
"Oh, your hand?" retorted Ripley, confidently. "The
yarn about that hand is another lie."
Dick's injured right hand came out of the jacket
pocket in which it had rested. With his left hand he
flung down his cap.
"I'll fight—-you—-anyway!" Prescott announced,
slowly.
There were a few faint cheers, though some of the
older High School boys looked serious. Fair play
was an honored tradition in Gridley.
Ripley, however, had thrown down his cap at once,
hurling his strapped-up school books aside at the
same time."Wait a moment," commanded Frank Thompson,
stepping forward. He was a member of the first
class, a member of the school eleven, and a husky
young fellow who could enforce his opinions at
need.
"Get back, Thomp," retorted Ripley. "The cub
wants to fight, and he's got to."
"Not if he has an injured hand," retorted Frank,
quickly.
"He hasn't," jeered Ripley. "And he's got so fight, if
he has four lame hands."
"He can fight, then, yes," agreed Thompson. "But
remember, Fred, it's allowable, when a fellow's
crippled, to fight by substitute."
"Substitute?" asked Fred, looking uncomfortable.
"Yes; I'll take his place, if Prescott will let me,"
volunteered
Frank Thompson, coolly.
"You? I guess not," snorted Ripley. "I won't stand
for that. I'm a third classman, and you're a first
classman. You're half as big again as I am, and
——-"
"The odds wouldn't be as bad as you're proposing
to take out of this poor little freshman with the
crippled hand," insisted Thompson. "So get ready
to meet me. I'll allow one of my hands to be tied, if
you want."Yet even this proposition couldn't be made alluring
to Fred Ripley.
He knew Thompson's mettle and strength too well
for that.
Dan Dalzell, another freshman, had been standing
back, keeping quiet as long as he could.
"See here," proposed Dan, stepping forward, "isn't
a freshman allowed to say something when his
friend is insulted?"
"Go ahead," nodded Thompson, who knew Dan to
be one of young Prescott's close friends.
"Dick isn't in shape to fight, and I know it,"
continued Dan Dalzell, hotly. "But Ripley wants
something easy, like a freshman, so he can have
me!"
"And me," cried Tom Reade, also leaping forward.
"He can have one with me, too," offered Harry
Hazelton.
"Same here," added Greg Holmes and Dave
Darrin.
All five of the speakers were freshmen, and close
chums of Dick
Prescott's.
"Say, what do you think I want—-to fight a whole
pack?" demanded
Ripley, hoarsely."Oh, you don't have to fight us all at once," retorted
Dave Darrin. "But you've insulted our friend, and
you've taken a sneaking advantage of him at a
time when you knew he couldn't handle anyone as
big as you are. So, Ripley, you're answerable to
Prescott's friends. I'll tell you what you can do.
There are five of us. You can take any one of us
that you prefer for the first bout. When you've
thrashed him, you can call for the next, and so on.
But you've got to go through the five of us in turn.
If you don't, I'll call you a coward from now on.
You're bigger than any of us."
"See here, Cub Darrin," raged Ripley, starting
forward, his face aflame, "I don't allow any
freshman to talk that way to me. I won't fight you,
but I'll chastise you, and you can protect yourself if
you know how."
He made a bound forward, intent on hitting Darrin,
who stood his ground unflinchingly. But Thompson
seized the third classman by the shoulder and
shoved him back.
"Now, stop this, Ripley, and you freshmen, cut it
out, too," warned the athletic first classman. "This
is descending to a low level. We don't want a lot of
bickering or mouth-fighting, and we don't intend to
have anything but fair play, either."
"As this is largely my affair," broke in Dick Prescott,
who had had time to cool down a bit, "let me have
a chance to make an offer.""Go ahead," nodded Thompson.
"Then," proposed Dick, "since you won't let me
fight today, why can't this meeting hold over until
my hand is in shape? Then I'll agree to give Ripley
all he wants."
"That's the only sensible thing I've heard said in
five minutes," declared Frank Thompson, looking
about him at other upper classmen. "Is it the
general opinion that the fight hold over for a few
days, or, say, a fortnight?"
"Yes," came back an eager, approving chorus.
"Then so be it," proclaimed Frank. "And now,
remember, Ripley, this fight is not to be pulled off
until the school agrees to it. If you pick any trouble
with Prescott until you get the word, or if you try to
find any excuse for hitting him while his hand's out
of shape, then you'll answer to the school for your
conduct. You know what that means, don't you?"
"Humph!" snorted Fred Ripley. "All this fuss about
the High School sneak!"
Again Dick started forward, but Thompson caught
him firmly.
"Hold on, freshie!" advised the older boy. "Save it
up. Bottle it. You can have all the more fun out of
Ripley when your hand is in shape."
"His hand is in as good shape as it ever was,"
retorted Ripley, scornfully. "And he lies when he