Neither of the stage drivers was in the secret of what was likely to happen down the road.
The start was made, the horses moving barely faster than a walk.
By this time the athletic field was practically deserted. There was no sign of the presence of the Fordham High School team, nor of the bad element that Barnes had enlisted.
It was not until the stages had proceeded nearly four blocks that Dave, sitting beside Dick on the driver's seat of the first stage, caught sight of some bobbing heads further up the road.
"There they are," whispered Dave. "Lying in wait at the next corner. They'll jump out when we get there."
"Let them!" muttered Dick. "They'll have to start it—-but after they do——-!"
The stages had almost reached the next corner. Grinning, or scowling, according to individual moods, the roughs streamed out into the, street.
Gridley boys steeled themselves for a conflict, hopeless in odds of five to one!
At this point a clear voice sounded in the distance.
"A Company, left wheel, march!"