Left End Edwards

Marvin gained two through left tackle and Norton punted. Claflin ran back to her thirty-four yards. On the next play Claflin was set back fifteen yards for holding and, after an attempted forward pass which grounded, punted to the Maroon's forty-five. Marvin caught and dodged back fifteen yards before he was stopped. On the first play he shot the ball to Steve, and Steve, making a good catch, reeled off ten before he was brought down. Another forward pass to Captain Miller gained five. Norton plunged at the line for three and Kendall failed to gain. With the ball on Claflin's twenty-two yards Williams went back. It was a fake, however, Marvin taking the ball for a straight plunge through centre, which gave Brimfield first down on Claflin's eighteen. Norton plugged the centre for two and Kendall swept around the Blue's left end for three more. With the pigskin on Claflin's thirteen-yard line a score seemed certain. But Norton was stopped for no gain and once more Williams dropped back to kick.

Williams, however, was badly tuckered and was so slow in getting the ball away that again Claflin blocked and the ball was captured by Mumford on the twenty-five-yard line. Claflin punted on first down and the ball went out of bounds at the Blue's forty. Norton kicked to Claflin's fifteen and Ainsmith ran back to his thirty-six, receiving a salvo of applause from the blue section of the stand. Claflin made four around Miller's end and on the next play was presented with five, Brimfield being detected off-side. Atkinson made six through Williams and followed it with two more past Lacey. On a fake kick Ainsmith got through Thursby for three, taking the ball across the centre line for first down. A forward pass to right end was upset by Steve and Claflin punted on second down. Kendall caught on his twenty-five and was stopped at the thirty. Brimfield made seven in two plunges at the left side of the opposing line and then Still fumbled. Marvin recovered and Norton kicked to Claflin's thirty. Steve and Miller upset Ainsmith where he caught. Claflin was now playing on the defensive and kicked on first down. The punt was short and Kendall got it on Claflin's forty-eight yards and made ten before he was caught.

The timer announced four minutes to play. Claflin sent in a new quarter-back and Coach Robey replaced Williams with Gleason. Williams was groggy and had to be carried off the field. From the grand stand came imploring cries from Brimfield for a touchdown and equally imploring shouts of "Hold 'em! Hold 'em!" from Claflin.

Still took the pigskin on a criss-cross and made four around Claflin's right end. Norton shot through centre for the rest of the distance, placing the ball on the Blue's twenty-eight. With Williams out of the game it was a touchdown or nothing. Kendall and Still plugged the left of the Blue's line for two yards each and Norton got around the other end for three. With three to go on third down Marvin worked a delayed pass and made first down on the Blue's seventeen yards. The time-keeper announced three minutes left. Thursby gave place to Coolidge. Norton plunged through right tackle for five, but someone had held and Brimfield was set back fifteen. Kendall tried the Claflin left end and gained four on a long run across the field. Marvin took the ball for a plunge through centre, but was thrown back for a loss. Norton was forced to punt and put the ball out of bounds at the five-yard line.

The time-keeper announced one minute left and Claflin punted from behind her goal-line, the ball going high and being caught by Marvin on the Blue's thirty yards. Brimfield, desperate for a score, lined up quickly and Norton struck the Claflin centre and piled through for ten yards. The Blue was weakening. Kendall added four and Still made a yard at left tackle. On the fifteen-yard line Marvin sent McClure back as if to try for a goal. Evidently Claflin accepted the bluff in good faith, for, although there were cries of "Fake!" the Claflin ends played well in. Marvin called his signals once, hesitated and pulled Kendall closer in to protect the kicker. Then, "Signals!" he shouted. "16—34—27—19!" He glanced sharply around the back-field. "16—34—27–"

Back went the ball, but not to McClure. The quarter had it and was stepping back out of the path of the plunging players. Then his arm shot out and off went the ball, arching to the left, over the end of the battling, swaying lines, straight and far and true to where a lithe figure stood with upraised hand near the Blue's ten-yard line. Too late Claflin saw her error. Steve ran a step forward, felt the pigskin settle into his outstretched hands, whirled on his heel and sped toward the goal-line. The Claflin right end was almost on him as he crossed the five-yard mark, but when desperate arms settled about Steve's legs and brought him crashing to earth he was well over that last white line and the day was won! Frantic blue-stockinged youths dropped mercilessly down upon him and drove the breath from his body, in his ears was a wild and terrific clamour of frenzied joy and faintly a whistle shrilled. Steve, his nose buried in the soft sod, clutched the ball tightly beneath him and smiled in the darkness.

CHAPTER XXVIII

THE CHUMS READ A TELEGRAM

The tumult was over, although from the Row came at times a wild shout of exultation from some enthusiastic youth. In 12 Billings, Steve and Tom were dressing for the banquet. There was no feverish hurry in their movements. Tom sat for minutes at a time with a shirt draped across his knees and smiled fatuously through swollen lips. There was plenty of time. The banquet was not to be until seven, and it was now still but a little past six. When they spoke they spoke slowly, lazily, as though nothing much mattered, as though Fate had given them everything they wanted and nothing was left to be desired. Steve, dreamily slipping a belt through the loops of his best trousers, said:

"Tom, when I look at you I'm ashamed of myself. There you are with a face like a war map and one leg all bunged up, and here am I without a scratch. I've got a bum wrist, but it doesn't show." And Steve scowled at the offending member.

Tom grinned. "You can have my mouth if you want it," he said. After a minute he spoke again. "I was glad about Benson," he said.

Steve nodded. "So was I."

Tom laughed. "Yes, you looked it!"

"Well, I didn't know why Robey was taking me out, of course. It seemed after I'd made that touchdown that he'd ought to let me play the game out. Benson was rather—rather pathetic when he hobbled on. I'm glad he's got his letter, though."

"Yes, and there's only one thing I'm not glad about," responded Tom thoughtfully, beginning to squirm into his shirt. "I'm not glad we missed that goal. I wanted that extra point."

"How could we help missing it? Andy isn't any goal kicker, and all the others were afraid to try, I suppose. What's the odds, though! We won, and six to nothing is good enough, isn't it?"

"Mm—yes; seven to nothing would have looked better, though."

"And you're the fellow," scoffed Steve, "who was almost crying awhile back because Claflin would feel bad if we licked her!"

Tom only grunted. Steve went into a daydream with one leg in his trousers until, presently, Tom laughed softly.

"What are you choking about?" asked Steve.

"Just thinking. Remember, Steve, coming on in the train how we were talking about what—what it would be like here?"

"N—no," answered Steve. "Were we?"

"Yes. I remember you said that in the stories the hero was always suspected of something he hadn't done and you said you'd bet that if anyone tried that on you you'd make a kick."

"Well, what of it?"

"You didn't, though. Some of the fellows thought you'd swiped that blue-book that time and you didn't make a murmur."

"Because–"

"Because you thought I'd done it and was trying to shield me. I know. Then you said that in the stories the hero saves someone from drowning and the football captain puts him into the big game and he wins it by a wonderful run the length of the field."

"That's right, isn't it? All the school stories have it like that, don't they?"

"I know."

"Well, then–"

"The funny thing is that it happened like that to us, Steve, or pretty nearly. I don't mean that I—I actually saved you from drowning, but–"

"You sure did, though!"

"Anyway, it was something like that, wasn't it? And then you went and won the game in the last minute of play, just as they do in the stories."

"I didn't make any run the length of the field," denied Steve. "All I did was catch the ball and go ten yards with it. Nothing wonderful about that."

"Still, it's all pretty much like the story-writers tell it, after all, eh? That's what struck me as funny."

"Huh! It doesn't seem to me much like it is in the stories. Say, we forgot about the papers, Tom!"

"What papers?"

"The New York papers, with the account of the thrilling rescue at Oakdale, with your picture–"

"He didn't get any picture of me," said Tom grimly.

"He made you talk, though," laughed Steve.

"He'd make anyone talk," Tom grunted.

"By Jove!" He jumped suddenly to his feet, and with more animation than had been displayed in Number 12 for a half-hour hurried to the closet.

"What's up?" asked Steve in surprise.

"Telegram," came in smothered tones from Tom. "Here it is. Lawrence handed it to me in the gym after the game. Said it came at noon, but Robey wouldn't let him give it to me. Bet you it's from my dad."

Tom tore the end from the yellow envelope and there was silence in the room for a moment. At last, with a queer expression on his battered countenance, he walked across and held the message out to Steve. "It's for you, too," he said quietly.

Steve took it and read: "Tannersville, Pa., Nov. 25. Morning papers have account of Oakdale scrape grateful to you for your rescue of Steve God bless you show this to Steve your father joins me in love to you both. John T. Edwards."

Steve let the telegram fall and stared blankly at Tom.

"What—do—you know—about that?" he gasped. "They've made it up, Tom!"

Tom nodded gravely. "It—it–" A slow smile overspread his face. "Honest, Steve, that's better than winning the game!"

"You bet it is! And you did it!"