The story spread like wildfire through the school, and was greeted everywhere hilariously, for Trompet Shrugg had succeeded in making himself intensely unpopular. That Mr. Allen himself eventually heard of the incident no one knew for a certainty, but events that followed shortly afterward indicated that he had. The first game of the league season--that with Wimbledon--was now rapidly approaching and the boys were looking forward to it eagerly. That team had usually put up a stiff fight, and the year before Lenox had beaten it only by a lucky field goal as the last quarter was nearing its end. Coach Garwin did not hold it cheaply--indeed, he never made that often fatal error in regard to any games on the schedule--and he drove his boys on remorselessly in practice. By this time they had become pretty well seasoned, and the coach had no hesitation in making them go the limit. He compelled the scrubs, too, to be on their toes all the while. Not that the second string men needed any urging. The close call they had given the regulars in the first game was ever present with them, and they were frantically eager to win a game from their opponents. Victory, however, never came as close to them as it had in that first game. The regulars then had been over confident and had come near paying the penalty. Now that they knew the stuff the scrubs were made of, the regulars went in every time expecting a stiff struggle, and their superior weight carried them through to triumph. "Looks less likely than ever that we'll get on the first team this year," mourned Rooster. "You never can tell," replied Garry, with his unconquerable optimism. "I don't wish the regulars any bad luck, but accidents are likely to happen at any time. Sometimes three or four fellows are knocked out in a single quarter, and then our chance may come. All we've got to do is to keep on plugging with all our might." There was no doubt that Garry himself was putting that principle in practice. He was out almost every day on the field working to his utmost. He was among the first to get on the playing oval and among the last to leave. And very frequently he and some of the Hill Street bunch would get together after supper and practice in the lot back of his house until darkness forced them in. He was happier now than he had been at any other time since school opened. His persecution by Trompet Shrugg had greatly diminished. Ted conjectured that some one had "put a flea in the old boy's ear," as he disrespectfully phrased it. More likely it was the recollection of the humiliation he had suffered when Mr. Allen had unwittingly spiked his guns that made the teacher of English more careful in his dealings with Garry. On the day set for the Wimbledon game Garry was as hard as nails and ready for the call, if the call should come.