"All right, then," nodded Dave. "Dick, you pick out the Rangers; Craig, you go ahead with the Rustlers. After we've practised a few times we'll pick the best men from both elevens, and make up the Central Grammar eleven. Get busy, captains!"
Forthwith the choosing began. Dick chose all his chums for his own eleven. And no boy lower than seventh grade was allowed on either team.
"Now, who'll be referee?" demanded Dick. "Captain Craig, have you any choice?"
"Have we got any fellows, not on either team, who really know the rules?" asked Tom Craig dubiously.
There was a hush, for this was surely a stumbling block. It seemed clear that a referee ought to know the rules of the game.
"What's up, kids?" called a friendly voice.
The speaker was Len Spencer, a young man who had been graduated from the High School the June before, and who was now serving his apprenticeship as reporter on one of the two local daily papers, the morning "Blade."
"Oh, see here, Len!" called Dick joyously. "You're just the right fellow for us. You know the football rules?"
"I have a speaking acquaintance with 'em," laughed Len.
Dick rapidly outlined what was being planned, adding: