"Is the School eleven decided upon in detail?" questioned another.

"No; of course not, as yet. Each day some of the young men develop
new points---of excellence, or otherwise. The division into School
and second teams, that you saw this afternoon, may not be the
final division. In fact, not more than five or six of the young
men have been definitely picked as sure to make the School team.
We shall have it all decided within a few days."

"But you're rather certain," insisted another, "that Gridley is
going to have as fine a School team as it has ever had?"

"It would be going too far to say that," replied Coach Morton
slowly. "The truth is, we never know anything for certain until
we have seen our boys play through the first game. Our judgment
is even more reliable after they've been through the second game."

By this time, some of the football squad were coming out of locker
rooms, heading across the field to the gate. Coach Morton and
the little group of citizens turned and went along slowly after
them. The kicker was still on hand.

Just as the boys neared the gate there were heard sounds of great
commotion on the other side of the high board fence. There were
several excited yells, the sound of running feet, and then more
distinct cries.

"He's bent on killing the officer! Run!"

"Look out! Here he comes! Scoot!"

"He's crazy!"

Then came several more yells, a note of terror in them all.

Five youngsters of the football squad were so near the gate that
they broke into a run for the open. Coach Morton, too, sped ahead
at full steam, though he was some distance behind the members
of the squad. The citizens followed, running and puffing.

Once outside, they all came upon a curious sight. One of the
smallest members of Gridley's police force had attempted to stop
a big, red-faced, broad-shouldered man who, coatless and hatless
had come running down the street.

Two men had gotten in the way of this fellow and had been knocked
over. Then the little policeman had darted in, bent on distinguishing
himself. But the red-faced man, crazed by drink, had bowled over
the policeman and had fallen on top of him. The victor had begun
to beat the police officer when the sight of a rapidly-growing
crowd angered the fellow.

Leaping up, the red-faced one had glared about him, wondering
whom next to attack, while the officer lay on his back, more than
half-dazed.

Making up his mind to catch and