This was true, and a substitute had been called to take Porter’s place.
The game went on, Fardale lining up with the ball within two yards of New Era’s goal.
The ball was snapped and passed back to Darrell. In a most surprising manner, two or three of New Era’s forwards slipped through Fardale’s line and had Hal before he could make an advance. Down he went. A loss of three yards! This was bad work.
“Hold fast in the line,” urged Dick. “Don’t let them through like that!”
“Talk about greased lightning!” grumbled Harry Dare.
“Can’t hold them,” said Gardner desperately. “Hands slip right off!”
“Whatever sort of a game is this?” growled Brad Buckhart, in deepest disgust. “Are they allowed to wear suits like that? Are they allowed to grease themselves so a fellow can’t get hold of them at all?”
The New Era players laughed in the faces of the Fardale lads.
“There are some things about this game you chaps do not know,” sneered Durban, who had taken Porter’s place.
“We may be able to teach you a trick or two before the game ends,” flung back Buckhart.