"Football is all at sixes and sevens, this year," muttered DaveDarrin disconsolately."I can tell you something more than that," added Tom Reade mysteriously."What?" asked Dick Prescott, looking at Reade with interest, for it was unusual for Reade to employ that tone or air."Two members of the Athletics Committee have intimated to CoachMorton that they'd rather see football passed by this year.""What?" gasped Dick. He was staring hard now."Fact," nodded Tom. "At least, I believe it to be a fact.""There must be something wrong with that news," put in Greg Holmes anxiously."No; I think it's all straight enough," persisted Tom, shaking his head to silence Holmes. "It came to me straight enough, though I don't feel at liberty to tell you who told me."All six members of Dick & Co. were present. The scene of the meeting was Dick Prescott's own room at his home over the bookstore kept by his parents. The hour was about nine o'clock in the evening. It was Friday evening of the first week of the new school year. The fellows had dropped in to talk over the coming football season, because the week had been one of mysterious unrest in the football squad at Gridley High School.