After dinner the three boys went up to Gerald’s room and loafed until it was time to go to the game. They reached the field early, but found the grand stand already nearly filled. Forest Hill School had sent over nearly a half hundred rooters and these had taken possession of one end of the stand and were already tuning up for the afternoon’s vocal performance. A good many folks had come over from Greenburg and, of course, Yardley had turned out to a man. The crowds was still streaming on to the field when the Forest Hill team trotted past the corner of the stand and crossed the gridiron to throw off blankets along the further side-line. Gerald, Harry and The Duke were idling by the ropes on the Yardley side when “Perky” Davis, the football manager, stopped. Davis was a thin, light-haired youth with an habitual expression of care and concern. Just now he seemed more worried than ever, and the creases on his forehead were many and deep.