Back and forth surged the lines of men. Now and then one side or the other would bring into play some unexpected, spectacular stunt which drew forth shouts of delight from the stands and gave them the momentary advantage, only to have their opponents retaliate in kind.
The first quarter passed without either side scoring. The crowds were wild with excitement, and during the brief three-minute pause they cheered themselves hoarse and nearly stamped the grand stands down in their efforts to show their enthusiastic appreciation.
At the beginning of the second quarter Harvard rushed the ball down the field in a determined, irresistible effort to score. They were opposed with equal determination, and the battle was on again.
Back and forth, back and forth surged the lines. Now one side had the advantage and then the other. At length, Kenny tried the much-practiced double pass with Baxter and Merriwell on Harvard’s thirty-yard line, and it worked.
Swiftly the pigskin flew through the air into Teddy Baxter’s waiting arms. Without a pause he dashed on, crossing behind Merriwell, shooting out into the field around the end, guarded by Crowfoot and Blair Hildebrand. The crimson line plunged forward and to the left, sure of their man.
Then, like a flash of light, the ball flew from Baxter into the waiting arms of Merriwell, and Teddy lunged to block their opponent’s guard, while Dick kept on without a pause toward the goal.
He made it, and the spectators on the Yale stand went wild. It was the first moment since the start of the game that the tension had been released, and, surging to their feet, they sent roar after roar of cheering which thundered across the field in great crashes of sound, stupendous in their volume.
Then came a breathless hush while the goal was being kicked, and after that the noise commenced again, dying away gradually as the game was resumed.
Nothing more happened in that quarter. The crimson-clad men, undeterred by their opponents’ vantage, worked like tigers; but there was not enough time left for them to accomplish anything, and the shrill sound of the whistle left them on Yale’s forty-yard line.
“How about it, Dale?” Dick asked, as he passed the Harvard captain on their way to the track house.