"True," agreed Fremont. "But it'll teach the town, the school authorities, the coach and after this year, that only the prominent fellows in the school should have any voice in athletics. Let the muckers be content with standing behind the side lines and rooting for the real High School crowd." "Shall we put it to a vote?" asked Bayliss, looking about him. "Yes!" answered several promptly. "Then, as I understand it," continued Bayliss, "when the football call goes up, we're all to ignore it. We're to continue to ignore the call, and keep out of the school football squad this year, unless the coach and the Athletics Committee agree that we shall have the naming of the candidates. Is that the general agreement among ourselves?" "Yes!" came the chorus. "Any contrary votes?" Momentary silence reigned in this conclave of "soreheads." "Yet," continued Bayliss, "we've started training among ourselves. This morning's cross-country is part of our daily training. If we have to refuse the football call, and stay out of the squad, are we to drop our present training?" "Hardly, I should say," responded Fremont. "I have something to suggest in that line. If we can't go into what is really a gentleman's eleven under the High School colors, I propose that we organize an eleven of our own, and call ourselves simply the Gridley Football Club. We can bring out an eleven that would put things all over any school team that the muckers could organize without our help." "We wouldn't play the muckers, would we?" demanded Trenholm. "Certainly not!" retorted Bayliss, with contemptuous emphasis. "We won't even know that a mucker High School team is on earth," laughed Porter. "I think we understand the plan well enough, now, don't we?" inquired Blaisdell, rising. "We do," nodded Porter. "And we'll all do our full share toward bringing control of High School affairs back to the aristocratic leadership that it once had." "Hoist our banners, and let them proclaim: 'Down with the muckers!'" laughed Hudson, rolling up the hem of his sweater. "We want a good, not too fast but steady jog back to town," announced Bayliss. At the first sign that the "soreheads" were preparing to leave the spot Dick had taken advantage of their noise to slip away. Dave had followed him successfully. Then, from another hiding place these two prowling juniors, grinning, watched the "soreheads" move away at a loping run. "We certainly know all we need to about that crowd," muttered Dick, a half-vengeful look in his eyes. "The snobs!" "Oh, they're cads, all right," assented Dave. "Yet that bunch of fellows contains some of the material that is needed in putting forth the best High School team this year!" "Humph!" commented Dave disgustedly. "Yet, Dick, I was almost surprised that you would stop and listen, without letting the fellows know you were there." "It does seem sneaky, at first thought," Prescott admitted, almost shamefacedly.