“That’s the stuff!” exclaimed the captain of the eleven exultantly. “Now we’ll see if there is no way of holding on to those greased New Era chaps!”
And he hurried to overtake his men.
When the Fardale team went on the field for the second half it was observed that across the breast of each man was a strange broad white streak. From a distance it looked like a broad chalk-mark, somewhat wider than a man’s hand.
New Era was confident. She expected to use Fardale worse in the second half than she did in the first. The shiny suits of the New Era men looked shinier and more slippery than ever.
The rain had stopped, but the field was a muddy spectacle.
After the kick-off the two teams went at each other in earnest. As they lined up for the scrimmage, the Fardale men were seen to rub their hands across their chests where the white streak could be seen.
When the crash came Fardale went into the enemy with ginger, and New Era found difficulty in slipping through after the fashion set earlier in the game. Somehow, for all of the greased suits, the Fardale lads were able to grasp the enemy and cling to them. New Era was surprised by her first repulse.
The two teams lined up again. Signal. Back went the ball to Sampson. He was the man to make a gain in an emergency.
A revolving formation smashed into Fardale’s right wing. Sampson was shot out of it with the ball. But not until the cadets had begun in the most surprising manner to yank the formation to pieces.
There seemed an opening between Bradley and Jolliby, and through this Sampson tried to plunge.