"You, Lent," called a tormentor, as the two cronies, chagrined and furious, hurried away, "going to answer the football call? Better let us break the news gently to Mr. Phillips so that he won't die of joy." For some time after Sandy and Lent had disappeared the campus rang with jests at their expense. But the sound of the gong put an end to the merriment, and the students of Lenox High filed into its corridors for another year of work and play. As Garry and his chums reached their classroom they were still discussing the run-in with their enemies. "You made a wise crack there, Garry," Nick Danter chuckled. "It sure got under their skin. But I didn't like the looks in the eyes of those fellows as they passed you. They'll plan some dirty trick to get even with you." Then began the round of lessons and the getting acquainted with new classes and new teachers. Garry Grayson and his chums had Mr. Phillips in English again, and were heartily glad of that. The latter gave them a cordial greeting when they entered his class, and at the close of the period detained them for a moment. "Feeling fit?" he asked with a smile, as he looked at their sturdy figures and bronzed cheeks. "Fine as silk," answered Garry, and the others nodded assent. "I'm going to post the bulletin in a day or two," said Mr. Phillips. "I want to get you football boys out on the field early. We've got some heavy work before us." The boys were not so favorably impressed by their Latin teacher. This was a tall, severe looking gentleman, who answered to the name of Blythe. "Though where he got that handle is a mystery," Rooster whispered to Garry at a moment when the teacher's eye was off him. "I never saw any one who looked less blithe in my life." Two days went by before the eagerly anticipated football call was posted on the board. That afternoon, as soon as the boys were released from their studies, they flocked to the gymnasium to learn their fate. For Garry and his chums the ban of the first year was now removed. They were no longer freshmen and as such tacitly barred from eligibility to the first team. Tradition, as Ted inelegantly put it, was "nix" for them now. The bars were down. Merit was the only thing that counted, and Garry and his chums had as good a chance of making the team as any boys in school. Now the great, the all-important question was, what choice would Mr. Phillips make? Who among the scrubs of last year would be selected to fill those vacancies on the first team? "Remember how Ralph Wynn talked to us last year?" asked Bill. "Do we remember?" repeated Rooster. "How he told us that we had no chance to make the first team because we were freshmen, mere worms of the dust, so to speak." "Look at the bunch of youngsters coming," said Nick, as a noisy crowd poured into the gymnasium. "Looks as though Mr. Phillips would have plenty to choose from."