"Then I guess we won't play," said Burgess with a shrug of his shoulders, as he ran out on the field to catch a ball kicked high into the air by Andy.
But Frank did not give up, though he had rather an up-hill struggle. Plenty of the boys were in favor of having a football team, but when it came to putting up money to have the grandstands repaired and the gridiron made so it could be used, they balked. And it wasn't because they were afraid to spend the cash, but they didn't have it. Few rich men's sons attended Riverview.
"Maybe they will, after they hear that we've beaten the Waterside four," suggested Andy hopefully.
"I'd use all the money I got from selling the whale only I want it to take up those bonds," said Frank. "I can't let Thorny get ahead of me now and make trouble for Gertrude."
"That's right. Well, I guess we can't have any football eleven this year."
But still the lads kept up practice, and gradually they were perfecting themselves.
One crisp afternoon, when both scrub teams were having an improvised game on the gridiron, Frank got possession of the ball, and started down the field on a dead run to make a touchdown. He had the pigskin tucked under his arm and was running low and hard with lowered head. He had eluded the other side's fullback and was headed straight for the goal posts. A figure stood between them, a figure that, somehow, seemed strangely familiar to Frank. But he did not stop then to think who it was.
"He'll get run down if he stands there," he murmured, for Frank wanted to put the ball as near the middle as possible to render a kick for goal more certain.
"Look out!" yelled Frank. The figure between the posts never moved and the next instant our hero crashed full into the other lad, sending him flying to one side, and knocking him down.
"I'm sorry, old man, but I couldn't help it," apologized Frank after he had touched down the ball. "I called to you to get out of the way."