"Throw him down, McCluskey!" tooted the band, derisively. But the cheers from the wild Gardiner fans nearly drowned out the instrumental racket. Quickly the visitors had a practice ball in motion. Now the home fans waited breathlessly.
At last the band played again. "See the Conquering Hero Comes!"
Gridley High School, natty and clean looking in their gray and black uniforms, with black stockings, caps and belts, came out on the field. Instantly there was craning of necks to see if Prescott were among the players.
"There he is!" yelled one of the High School fans. "There's our
Dick! Wow!"
Cheering went up from every Gridley seat. The bleachers contributed a bedlam of noise. "For He's a Jolly Good Fellow!" blared forth the band. Girls and women stood up, waving fans, handkerchiefs, banners. Another round of cheering started. Dick walked quietly, looking neither to right nor left. Yet the boy was wondering, in astonishment, if kings usually got such a welcome.
By the time the cheering had ceased, Fred Ripley, also in uniform, strolled out and walked toward the sub bench.
A hiss greeted Ripley. It was not loud, nor insistent, and presently died out. But Fred went as white as a sheet, then, with eyes cast downward, he dropped to his seat at the end of the sub bench. His chest heaved, for the greeting had unnerved him.
"I wonder why I usually get that sort of thing, while that fellow
Prescott has a band to play him in," muttered Fred.
The bulk of the audience was now quiet, while the three hundred visiting fans roared out one of their school yells.
Then followed a noisy whooping of the Gridley High School yell.