In the meantime indignant Dave Darrin was telling all he knew about the business to an indignant lot of High School youngsters in the day coach.
"You keep your upper eyebrow stiff, Bresgott," urged the warm-hearted
German. "I see you through by dis business. Don't you worry."
"Thank you, but it isn't the arrest that is really bothering me," Prescott answered. "It's the feet that I'm fooled out of playing this afternoon. And Darrin and I had been trained for so many special tricks for today's game that I'm almost afraid my absence will make a difference in the score. But, Herr Schimmelpodt, if you want to help me, do you really mind dropping in at the store and telling my father, so that he can come down to the court room? Yet please be careful not to scare Dad. He has a horror of courts and criminal law."
"I bet you I do der chob—-slick," promised the German, and hurried away.
"There goes a man that's all right, from his feet up to the top of his head," declared Officer Hemingway.
On the streets Dick's appearance with Hemingway attracted little notice. Folks were used to seeing the High School reporter of "The Blade" walking with this policeman-detective. The few who really did notice merely wondered why Dick Prescott was not on his way to the Tottenville gridiron today.
When Hemingway and his prisoner reached the court room there were only two or three loungers there, for it was still some minutes before the time for the assembling of the court.
Presently Bert Dodge and his friend, Bayliss, dropped in. They glanced at the young left end with no attempt to conceal their feelings of triumph. Bert looked much the worse for wear.
Dick returned their looks coolly, but without defiance. He was angry only that he should have been cheated of his right to play in that big game.
Then in came the elder Dodge, only just back from a sanitarium.
Beside him walked Lawyer Ripley, who immediately came over to
Dick, just before Herr Schimelpodt and Dick's father entered the
room hastily.