The High School Freshmen 
 
The Project Gutenberg EBook of The High School Freshmen, by H. 
Irving Hancock This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no 
cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give 
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Title: The High School Freshmen Dick & Co.'s First Year Pranks and 
Sports 
Author: H. Irving Hancock 
Release Date: June 23, 2004 [EBook #12689] 
Language: English 
Character set encoding: ASCII 
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HIGH 
SCHOOL FRESHMEN *** 
 
Produced by Jim Ludwig 
 
THE HIGH SCHOOL FRESHMEN or Dick & Co.'s First Year Pranks 
and Sports 
By H. Irving Hancock 
 
CONTENTS 
 
CHAPTERS 
I. "The High School Sneak" II. Dick & Co. After the School Board's
Scalps III. Not So Much of a Freshman IV. Captain of the Hounds V. 
The "Muckers" and the "Gentleman" VI. Fred Offers to Solve the 
Locker Mystery VII. Dick's Turn to Get a Jolt VIII. Only a 
"Suspended" Freshman Now IX. Laura Bentley is Wide Awake X. Tip 
Scammon Talks---But Not Enough XI. The Welcome With a Big "W" 
XII. Dick & Co. Give Football a New Boost XIII. "The Oath of the 
Dub" XIV. On the Gridiron with Cobber Second XV. Gridley Faces 
Disaster XVI. The Fake Kick, Two Ways XVII. Dick's "Find" Makes 
Gridley Shiver XVIII. Fred Slides into the Freeze XIX. Dick & Co. 
Show Some Team Work XX. Out for That Toboggan XXI. Thanks 
Served with Hate XXII. The Only Freshman at the Senior Ball XXIII. 
The Nitroglycerine Mystery Speaks Up XXIV. The Capture of the 
Bank Robbers XXV. Conclusion 
 
CHAPTER I 
THE HIGH SCHOOL SNEAK 
"I say you did!" cried Fred Ripley, hotly. Dick Prescott's cheeks turned 
a dull red as he replied, quietly, after swallowing a choky feeling in his 
throat: 
"I have already told you that I did not do it." 
"Then who did do the contemptible thing?" insisted Ripley, sneeringly. 
Fully forty boys, representing all the different classes at the Gridley 
High School, stood looking on at this altercation in the school grounds. 
Half a dozen of the girls, too, hovered in the background, interested, or 
curious, though not venturing too close to what might turn out to be a 
fight in hot blood. 
"If I knew," rejoined Dick, in that same quiet voice, in which one older 
in the world's ways might have detected the danger-signal, "I wouldn't 
tell you." 
"Bah!" jeered Fred Ripley, hotly.
"Perhaps you mean that you don't believe me?" said Prescott 
inquiringly. 
"I don't!" laughed Ripley, shortly, bitterly. 
"Oh!" 
A world of meaning surged up in that exclamation. It was as though 
bright, energetic, honest Dick Prescott had been struck a blow that he 
could not resent. This, indeed, was the fact. 
"See here, Ripley-----" burst, indignantly, from Dick Prescott's lips, as 
his face went white and then glowed a deeper red than before. 
"Well, kid?" sneered Ripley. 
"If I didn't have a hand---the right hand, at that---that is too crippled, 
today, I'd pound your words down your mouth." 
"Oh, your hand?" retorted Ripley, confidently. "The yarn about that 
hand is another lie." 
Dick's injured right hand came out of the jacket pocket in which it had 
rested. With his left hand he flung down his cap. 
"I'll fight---you---anyway!" Prescott announced, slowly. 
There were a few faint cheers, though some of the older High School 
boys looked serious. Fair play was an honored tradition in Gridley. 
Ripley, however, had thrown down his cap at once, hurling his 
strapped-up school books aside at the same time. 
"Wait a moment," commanded Frank Thompson, stepping forward. He 
was a member of the first class, a member of the school eleven, and a 
husky young fellow who could enforce his opinions at need. 
"Get back, Thomp," retorted Ripley. "The cub wants to fight, and he's 
got to."
"Not if he has an injured hand," retorted Frank, quickly. 
"He hasn't," jeered Ripley. "And he's got so fight, if he has four lame 
hands." 
"He can fight, then, yes," agreed Thompson. "But remember, Fred, it's 
allowable, when a fellow's crippled, to fight by substitute." 
"Substitute?" asked Fred, looking uncomfortable. 
"Yes; I'll take his place, if Prescott will let me," volunteered Frank 
Thompson, coolly. 
"You? I guess not," snorted Ripley. "I won't stand for that. I'm a third 
classman, and you're a first classman. You're half as big again as I am, 
and-----" 
"The odds wouldn't be as bad as you're proposing to take out of this 
poor little freshman with the crippled hand," insisted Thompson. "So 
get ready to meet me. I'll allow one of my hands to be tied, if you 
want." 
Yet even this proposition couldn't be made alluring    
    
		
	
	
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