“What does it mean?” asked Anson Day. “Why, I thought Merriwell had been given orders to——”
“Where’s Warne?” asked Oliver Stone excitedly.
“Where’s Arlington?” exclaimed Hadley Burrows. “We must see about this!”
But they looked in vain for either Warne or Arlington.
The cadets were cheering with new life now. Everywhere the red and black was waving. What a difference there was! Confidence seemed restored.
There was a lull as the spread-out teams waited for the kick-off. In that hush and pause Dick Merriwell’s keen ears seemed to catch the sound of faint, muffled shouts coming from the direction of the gymnasium, and he smiled grimly.
Fardale went into the game with a whirl and a rush that almost swept Uniontown off her feet. The home team had snap, ginger, vim, and go to it. Every man was in the game. They played together, and they were out for victory. Getting the ball, Fardale began hammering against the enemy, at their thirty-yard line. The funnel-play was tried, and Singleton hit the left wing of the enemy, going through for five yards.
The same play was repeated, the funnel seeming pointed in the same direction. Singleton rushed ahead until near what seemed the point of assault, then suddenly darted out through the side of the funnel, where an opening had been made for him, and went through the left wing of the enemy for seven yards. Well, this was the kind of stuff! This was playing football!
A third time the ball was given to big Bob. And now he went forward protected by a wedge that hit the line in the center. The wedge pressed on steadily until the opposing team began to tear it to pieces. Bob saw a tackler coming through, and, with a deft movement, he tossed the ball out to Dick Merriwell, who had been keeping just back of him on the outside of the edge.
The next moment Singleton was dragged down. But the ball was gone, Dick had it, and he was away like a flash. To the right ran Dick, darting past Iott, who tried in vain to reach him. He circled the end and started down the field.