A correspondence was at once begun with the necessary officers of the league, and it was carried on to such advantage that inside of a week Kentfield was formally notified of her election to the organization. This was composed of several military academies, as I have said, and the winning of the football championship carried with it the possession of a gold loving cup. Hard practice was the rule for the next few days, and then came a game with Mooretown which Kentfield won. The next week she played a small team, not in the league, and the week following came a contest with Richmore, one of the tail-enders of the league. This resulted in a big victory for Kentfield, and further advanced her prestige. "Have you challenged Blue Hill yet?" asked Dick of the manager one day. "I'm going to this week. I think we've won our spurs now. How is your ankle, if we do play?" "Fine as a fiddle. I've taken the bandage off. Oh, we'll play for our lives when we meet those fellows!" Blue Hill could now have no reason for refusing to meet Kentfield, and though they offered no apology for their former sarcastic letter, they accepted the challenge. Dick was with Manager Hatfield when the answering missive was received. "That's the stuff!" cried the young millionaire. "Now we'll practice harder than ever." Toots, the janitor, approached our hero, whistling "In the Prison Cell I Sit." He saluted and seemed to want to say something. "What is it?" asked Dick. "I've just got word, Mr. Hamilton, that your dog Grit has been arrested--or, that is, taken to the pound for going about without his license tag on, which is against the law," said the janitor. "Grit taken to the pound! Who did it?" cried Dick. "Some fellow by the name of Duncaster," was the unexpected reply. "He had a policeman take the dog in, and you have to pay ten dollars to get him out. Half of it goes to that Duncaster man for causing the dog to be taken in." "Duncaster!" murmured Dick. "He's fighting us all along the line! I'm going to town!" he called to a group of his chums who had gathered about him. "I'll go with you," and Paul hastened after his friend. CHAPTER XXI READY FOR BLUE HILL Dick was half wrathful over the action of Mr. Duncaster, and half because of the action of some cadet who must have enticed Grit to town, for a few students, admiring the bulldog had, in times past, often led him off with them. Nor was Grit unwilling to go, for he loved action, and by reason of his lessons and his football practice his master had little time to take him out. "What are you going to do?" asked Paul, as his chum swung around toward the stable. "I'm going to find out who took my dog to town, and then I'm going after him," was the answer. "He had nerve, who ever he was." "Do you think Duncaster did it? Because he knew it was your animal?"