In answer, a rousing defiance, the Gridley H.S. yell was roared out. And by this time, seniors Dick & Co. were in full motion.
"Four—-thirteen—-eleven!" bellowed Sam Edgeworth.
The football men heard that signal and understood the application of it.
Though the flying wedge is now no longer tolerated in football, there are other plays evolved from it, and the signal called for one. Edgeworth himself formed the point of the wedge.
"Freshies in the center!" he bawled back lustily.
As the High School crowd rushed around the corner, giving their vocal chords full play, Dick and his chums were hustled inside of the inverted "V" formation.
It was a human battering ram that launched itself into the lane—-filling that narrow passage, choking it.
One of the bank robbers was still on the lookout duty. At the first sound he had drawn his revolver, prepared to shoot right and left. But this avalanche of torsos, arms and legs was more than the fellow had bargained for.
If it be true that a community can't be indicted, then it is still truer that a community can't be murdered. The armed rascal gasped at the magnitude of his task of defense.
In another second he had been bowled clean over off his feet, and a half a dozen seniors were reaching for his weapon.