But, as the days passed, our friends were no nearer a solution than they had been in the past. They kept watch on Bascome and Lenton, but nothing developed, and they did not like to make any inquiries.
The bitterness of the Fairview defeat still lingered like a bad taste, in the mouth of the Randall gridiron knights, but it was being overshadowed by the game which would soon be played with Boxer Hall. This season they would clash but once with those doughty warriors, and according to the games that had thus far been played in the Tonoka Lake League, the championship was practically a tie between Randall and Boxer Hall.
“If we win all our other games, and we’re likely to do that,” said Kindlings, “all we need to do is to wallop Boxer Hall, and the championship is ours.”
“Yes, that’s all,” remarked Dutch Housenlager. “It’s easily said, but not so easy to do.”
“Get out, you old catamaran!” cried Holly Cross.
It was one morning at chapel, following the annual reunion of the “Old Grads” of Randall, that President Churchill made an announcement that caused quite a sensation.
“I have bad news to announce,” he said, as he stood on the platform after the devotional exercises. “There has been a conference between our lawyers and those representing the claimants to our land. They demand twenty thousand dollars in settlement.”
There was a gasp of surprise that went around the chapel like a wave of hysteria among a lot of girls.
“Twenty thousand dollars!” whispered Tom Parsons.