The Rockspur Eleven: A Fine Football Story for Boys

by Burt L. Standish

It was Highland’s kick-off, and Walker drove the ball to Mayfair, who attempted to run with it, but was downed by Pell and Johnson on the home team’s thirty-five-yard line. The referee, however, announcing that Hardoak was off side, the ball was called back, Highland losing five yards as a penalty. Therefore, it was from the visitors’ fifty-yard line that Walker made his second kick, which Carter caught. Once more the game was on in all its fury, and the tide of battle ebbed and flowed with heart-breaking irregularity.

Garrison was full of confidence, having been petted and congratulated and complimented, and seven minutes after the second half began he made another try to drop-kick a goal from the field. This time, however, not being favored by the wind, he missed the goal-posts by two yards, though he came near enough to give Rockspur something of a scare.

Sterndale had been nettled by the ineffective kicking of his team, and, now, with the wind favoring him, he punted out in a manner calculated to show what he could do. It was the longest kick of the day, for the ball actually came down on Highland’s thirty-yard line. One of the visitors would have gathered it in, but he was checked by cooler heads, and the leather was permitted to roll on over the goal line for a touchback, which counted for nothing.

Highland suddenly seemed to realize that facing the wind meant different kind of playing, whereupon a time-killing game was inaugurated right away. It was not long before Sterndale saw through this, and he resolved to give the enemy such hot work that they would find time-killing would not do.

As soon as the ball again came into the possession of the home team, Dick sent Mayfair against the new men in the right wing of the Highland line to try the mettle of those substitutes. The interference was poor, and Rockspur’s left half-back was blocked without a gain. Again this play was tried, but the result was the same, and Sterndale was forced to kick.

For a second time the big captain of the Rockspur Eleven booted out a distance annihilator, and for a second time Highland permitted the ball to roll across the goal line, which was foxy and scientific defense, showing that the coaching of Winston had borne excellent fruit. Only a small number of the spectators appreciated the quality of the playing they were witnessing, but the Harvard coach saw it with satisfaction that he was unable to express.

With the resumption of play, Walker kicked from his kick-out line, but the oval went out of bounds and Powell crashed into Ford, who was trying to pick the ball up. The mute was stretched out for a few seconds, but he quickly recovered and resumed his place, a grim look of mingled pain and courage on his face.

“They’re trying to knock us out,” thought Don. “If they can cripple us, they’ll have the advantage, and they know it.”

This made him intensely angry, and his dark eyes glowed with a dangerous fire. He had hoped that Rockspur would be able to give Highland a severe drubbing, for all of the supposed treachery of Renwood, but that hope was growing fainter as the minutes passed and the home team gained no decided advantage in the second half. All through the game Powell had shown himself to be the most dangerous man to encounter in the line of the visiting team, and now Don fancied the fellow was using his brute strength in an endeavor to put some of the Rockspur players out of the game.

With this idea firmly planted in his head, Scott aimed for Powell in the very next scrimmage. When the energetic Highlander attempted to shoulder him aside, Scott lost his temper completely and struck Powell a heavy blow on the neck.