There was that ever-inspiring thrill as the spheroid was booted high into the air. Tom had the luck to grab it and then, with fairly good interference, he dashed down the field.
"Stick to him, boys! Stick to him!" yelled the captain as he raced onward. But some of the Holwell school players broke through, and Tom was thrown heavily.
"Now, boys, tear 'em up!" entreated Morse, as the first scrimmage was to come. Sam began on a signal that would have sent Tom through guard and tackle, but Morse, hearing it, quickly stepped to the quarterback, whispering:
"Not yet! Tom's too winded. Give him a chance to get his breath. Try a forward pass."
Sam scowled, but he had to obey. It had been his intention to play Tom fiercely until, out of weariness, our hero would have been [missing words] or would have played so raggedly that he would be sent to the side lines. But Sam's plan was frustrated.
The forward pass was not much of a success, and a fake kick was called for. This netted a slight gain and then Morse again whispered to Sam.
"Let Tom take the ball through now."
The signal was given, and, with head well down, Tom hit the opposing line on the run. It held better than he had expected it would, and he was dizzy with the shock, but he had made a good gain, and there came a yell of delight from the supporters of Elmwood Hall.
Then the game sea-sawed back and forth, with matters a little in favor of Tom's team.
"Get a touchdown! Get a touchdown!" pleaded the captain.