Part 15 (1/2)

”Boys, we want a bigger score than this!” called Captain Allen eagerly, when time was taken out to enable some wind to be pumped back into Style. ”We've got thirteen points, and they have five.

It's too close a margin. We've got time enough to make another touchdown.”

”If we can get the ball,” added West.

”We've _got_ to get it!” cried the captain. ”It's the first down. Hold 'em, and throw the man with the ball for a loss if you can. They may kick on the second down instead of waiting for the third. Then we'll have 'em.”

The whistle blew and Style came slowly back into the line. He was pale and weak, as the manner in which he gave the signals showed.

There were anxious looks on the faces of his mates, and glances of eager expectation on those of his opponents.

Wentworth came smas.h.i.+ng for a hole he expected would be opened up between Daly and Shay, but Shay was ready and did more than his partner to block off the play. Wentworth was hurled back, and there was a net loss of two yards to Clifford.

”Look out for a kick!” warned Frank.

It came, for Clifford was desperately afraid, and Comfort got the ball. Tucking it under his arm, with head down, he started for the goal line, well protected. The enraged Clifford players managed to get at him, however, and he was downed after he had covered fifteen yards. But it was a good run back, and Columbia had the ball, and there were still several more minutes to play.

”At 'em now, fellows! Tear 'em apart!” cried Lanky Wallace.

He called for Ralph West to take the ball around Smith, as the quarter had noticed the weak defense the right end was putting up.

Around circled West, and he made a good gain before he was downed.

Again came smas.h.i.+ng plays--several of them, Columbia keeping possession of the ball. In vain did Clifford brace and hold. It was useless. She was being shoved right up the field. Her men were exhausted and discouraged. Columbia's were eager and triumphant.

”Touchdown! Touchdown!” came the insisting cries from the spectators. The ball was on Clifford's fifteen-yard line.

”Touchdown it is!” declared Wallace grimly.

He called his signal with snap and vim. Frank got the ball and made a desperate dive for a big gap that was opened up between Roe and McQuirk. Forward he staggered while Shadduck and Oakes managed to circle around to form interference for him.

”He's through! He's through!” came the cry, and indeed the captain was through the Clifford line, and legging it toward the goal.

Hastings started after him, but slipped and fell. Then, like a flash, Wentworth emerged from the tangle of players and set off after Allen. He came on like the wind, and managed to slip past Shadduck, but Oakes was on the alert and tackled off the plucky Clifford right-half.

Then it was all over but the shouting. With the fall of Wentworth ended Clifford's hopes of preventing another touchdown, while as for her own hopes of making one they had vanished some time ago.

Allen touched down the ball. Amid frenzied cheers the goal was kicked, making the score nineteen to five in favor of Columbia.

There was preparation for another kick-off, but before it could be made the whistle blew; and the game had pa.s.sed into history.

CHAPTER XII

DR. SHADDUCK FEARS AN EPIDEMIC

”There he is!”

”Cut him off; he's trying to dodge us!”

”No you don't, Frank; we're just bound to give you a ride around.

These things don't happen every day. Up with him, fellows!”

Fully fifty wild Columbia students had gathered around the captain, effectually blocking his escape from the field. Frank, suspecting some such design, had tried his best to slip off un.o.bserved; but hundreds of eyes were on him, and even his fellow players showed treachery, handing him over to the crowd.