“I thought we were to play Rigsby,” put in Joe Nelson.

“We are, some time later.”

The Rigsby Football Club was controlled by a rich gentleman named Rigsby who had an elegant place outside of a nearby city which I shall call Mornville. The team was composed largely of college boys and played exceedingly well.

The game between the Pornell Academy and the Rigsby Club attracted a large crowd to Mornville, and half a dozen students from Putnam Hall journeyed to the town, to see what sort of a game was being put up.

“We must catch all the pointers we can,” said Dale. “It may help us in our playing.”

The Pornell Academy made a fine showing during practice, but when the game started it was quickly found that the Rigsby team was too heavy and too clever for them. In each half of the game the Rigsby Club made a touchdown and a goal, and when the contest came to a close the score stood, Rigsby 12, Pornell Academy 0.

“That’s as bad as the boat-race defeat,” said Pepper. “They must feel sick.”

“Those Rigsby chaps are heavy and full of ginger,” said Dale, seriously. “We’ll have no picnic playing against them.”

When our friends were coming from the football grounds they fell in with half a dozen Pornell students.

“Fine day, Bock!” called out Pepper, cheerily. “Good day for playing football, eh?”

“Oh, you needn’t crow!” growled Roy Bock. “Just wait till Rigsby waxes you—you won’t feel so happy.”

“Maybe they won’t wax us.”

“Won’t they!” put in Grimes, who was along. “The score will be about 50 to nothing in Rigsby’s favor.”

“Wait and see,” said Jack, quietly; and then the students of the two schools separated.

After this game the team of the Hall practiced harder than ever, and George Strong taught them several useful plays. So the days went by until the eventful day for the match arrived. The game was to come off on the Rigsby grounds, and the students from Putnam Hall went over in the stage, the carryall, and in carriages and on bicycles.

At first Dan Baxter said he 

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