Let 'em rip out loudly!"
The cheers were given, followed by a tiger.
"Is Hi Martin, captain of the North Grammar nine, here?" called
Ted Teall.
But Hi wasn't, or else he kept his presence very quiet.
"Hi wouldn't he here," jeered some one. "He didn't win---couldn't
win---and he's sore."
Again Ted called for Hi Martin, though still without success.
"Then I'll have to light the fire alone," Ted declared. "I had
hoped that the captains of both of the walloped teams might share
the honor."
Tom Reade and Dave Darrin hastily emptied a five-gallon can of
oil on the old boxes and barrels and other pieces of wood.
"All clear?" called Ted.
"All clear," nodded Tom Reade.
"Then I'll light the blaze," shouted Ted. "This is a lot easier
than winning ball games," he added good-naturedly.
Three or four wind-proof matches Teall struck on a box and tossed
into the oil-soaked pile of combustibles. In a moment the increasing
heat of the blaze drove him back several yards.
Higher and higher mounted the red and yellow flames. Hundreds
stood about, their faces fully illumined by the big glow.
"It's going to be a great one," Ted called to Dick, as the latter
came toward him.
"Finest bonfire I've ever seen," Prescott answered.
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