"You can put that in the 'Blade' to-morrow morning, Len, and state our challenge to North and South Grammars. Won't you?"
"Surely."
"But we want to practise this afternoon," Dick continued earnestly, "and we haven't any referee. Len, can't you spare us a little time? Won't you boss the first practice for us?"
"All right," agreed Len, after a little thought. "I'll tackle it for a while. Have you got your teams picked?"
"Teams all picked, and the ball ready. We'll have to place stones for goal posts, though."
"Hustle and do it, then," commanded Len. "I can't stay here forever."
Five minutes later the field was as ready as it could be made.
"Captains will now attend the toss-up," ordered Len Spencer, producing a coin from one of his pockets. "Heads for Craig, tails for Prescott."
It fell head up, and Craig chose his goal, and also the first kick-off.
Dick had been busily engaged in making up his line and backfield. There was some delay while Tom Craig accomplished this same thing.