"I guess we all are," observed Ted Dillingham. "One thing is certain, anyway. They can't keep Garry off the regulars after the way he played in that game that won the championship for Lenox High. Gee, that was some football playing, I'll tell the world!" "It isn't a cinch for anybody," declared Garry soberly. "But so many of the old stars graduated in June that there'll be a good many places to be filled. There's Dittler, for instance--" "And that boy will certainly be missed!" exclaimed Nick Danter. "The whole backfield was built around him. When it came to bucking the line and skirting the ends, there wasn't a player in the High School League that could give him any points." "Right you are," agreed Garry. "The boy was a wonder. Minter, too, was no slouch, and they don't come any better than Payne. Both of them are gone, and it will be mighty hard work to fill their shoes." "But the biggest loss of all is Ralph Wynn," asserted Rooster Long. "Look at the way he ran the team. Used his brains every minute. Many's the game he's won by quick thinking. He had the beef, too, and the speed. It won't look like the same old team with the captain gone." "It's a blow to the school and the team," Bill acquiesced. "But that's all in the game. The other schools will have lost some of their stars, too; so in the long run things will about even up." "We've got one bit of luck, anyway, in having Mr. Phillips as our coach," put in Ted Dillingham. "That's right," agreed Garry heartily. "At first it looked as though he was going to have hard work in filling Coach Garwin's place, but the way Mr. Phillips brought the team through to the championship showed that he was there with the goods." "You said a mouthful that time," agreed Nick. "Luck for Garry that old Shrugg did the disappearing act when he did," remarked Ted with a grin. "That English prof sure had it in for one fellow on the scrubs." "And all because of a muddy football!" laughed Bill Sherwood, referring to an unfortunate occasion when Garry Grayson, quite by accident, had kicked a ball heavy with mud into the face of Trompet Shrugg, thereby ruffling that gentleman's temper as well as bespattering his immaculate waistcoat. "Speaking of mud," put in Rooster, glancing skyward, "it sure looks as though we were going to have plenty of it before long. See that row of banked-up clouds?" "Just wind clouds," scoffed Garry, giving Rooster a poke in the ribs with a four-foot branch he had picked up from the ground. Rooster grabbed the end of it and a spirited tussle ensued. By the time Garry had succeeded in wresting the improvised weapon from his friend's grasp the sky was definitely overcast with heavy clouds. The prophecy of storm seemed about to be fulfilled. "Never knew it to fail just when we'd planned to catch some fish and have a good time," grumbled Nick Danter, as he looked disconsolately at his fishing rod.