Part 3 (1/2)
”Don't tell him that, Mrs. Macgregor,” pleads Brown. ”He's far too gentle as it is.”
Some few minutes are spent in arranging for the kick-off.
”Oh, I do wish they would start,” exclaims Betty, standing up in the carriage. ”If they would only start!” she repeats. ”I want to have a chance to shriek.”
”There they go!” exclaims Lloyd.
It is McGill's kick. Huntingdon, the big captain and centre forward, takes it magnificently, following up hard with his whole team. Pepper, the 'Varsity full back, however, is at the spot and returns into touch.
In the throw-in McGill secures the ball, and by a swift rush makes fifteen or twenty feet, when, amid the cheers of the spectators, both teams settle down into their first scrimmage.
These are the days of close scrimmage play, when nine men on each side put their heads down with the ball between them, and shove for dear life. Picking out, heeling out, or kicking out is strictly forbidden and promptly penalised.
The first scrimmage results in a dead ball. Once more a scrimmage is formed, but again the result is a dead ball. Over and over again this play is repeated with very little gain on either side. It gradually becomes apparent, however, that McGill in a scrimmage is slightly heavier. Foot by foot they work their way toward the 'Varsity goal.
The cries of ”Hold them, 'Varsity! Hold them, 'Varsity!” and, ”You've got 'em, McGill! You've got 'em!” indicate the judgment of the spectators.
”Ay,” says the old lady, ”they are a bit heavy for them, I doubt.”
”Who!” inquires Betty, much amused.
”The Montreal lads. But we will be waiting a meenute.”
It is a very slow game for the crowds that line every side of the field. Neither team will let the ball out. Again and again the quarters nip up the ball and pa.s.s, but the tackling is so hard and swift that the halves cannot get away, and by pa.s.sing ground is almost always lost.
”Keep it in!” is the word. Inch by inch towards the 'Varsity goal the McGill forwards fight their way.
Suddenly the McGill scrimmage weakens and breaks up. Their quarter seizes the ball, pa.s.ses it low and swift to Bunch, who is off like the wind across the field, dodges through the quarters, knocks off Martin and Bate, and with The Don coming hard upon his flank, sets off for the 'Varsity line with only Pepper between him and a touch-down.
But Pepper is waiting for him, cool and steady. As Bunch nears him he crouches like a cat, creeping slowly to meet his coming foe. Ten feet from the line straight at the full back goes Bunch. At two paces distance he changes his mind and swerves to the left with the hope of dodging past.
But he has ventured too far. Pepper takes two short steps, and like a tiger springs at his foe, winds his arms round his hips and drags him down, while The Don from the side leaps fiercely on him and holds the ball safe, five feet from the line.
'Varsity goes wild with relief.
”Pepper! Pepper! Red hot Pepper!” they chant rapturously in enthusiastic groups here and there, as Pepper's red head emerges from the crowd piled upon him and the prostrate Bunch. Again and again rises the chant, as the full back returns at a slow trot to his place behind the line.
”Indeed, it is Pepper is the grand laddie,” says the old lady approvingly. ”Many's the game he has saved, Hamish will be telling me.”
”Now, McGill!” calls out a Montreal man, leading his fellows. ”Stone wall! Stone wall! Shove 'em in! Shove 'em in!”
But the 'Varsity captain is alive to his danger, and getting his men low down he determines to hold the enemy fast till the fury of their attack be somewhat spent, or till fortune shall bring him aid.
”Get up! Get up there, 'Varsity!” yells the McGill contingent.
”Look at 'em saying their prayers!” shouts a boy.
”They need to,” answers another.
”Get up, 'Varsity! Get up! Don't be afraid!” they yell derisively.