Now, however, it was a different Dimsdale team that lined up for the kick. Energy took the place of indifference. Helmets were pulled on tightly, belts hitched, feet kicked ridges in the field and an aroused and dangerous foe faced the cadet team. But they found a wideawake outfit waiting for them, and the game went on with a punch. This time the prep school team drove forward with purpose and held the cadet team to four straight downs, Vench declining to kick.
When the ball finally passed to Dimsdale the drive began. The smaller team was not able to hold the Class A group. Steadily they stormed down the field until they were under the shadow of the goal and a touchdown seemed the only final result. It was then that a merciful break came to Hudson.
This game against Dimsdale had been Hudson’s dream for years, and he was anxious to distinguish himself. His opportunity came with dazzling suddenness. Impatient at the time taken to put the ball over the goal line, and fearful that the half would end, for they were now in the second quarter, the Dimsdale quarterback called for a forward pass. The ball went to their left halfback, who tossed it like a bullet to the left end, hovering at that moment down near the goal.
Hudson had been slow to get away when the ball had been snapped and he was blaming himself for it, when he saw the ball come speeding through the air, over his head. He leaped into the air as though there were springs on his feet. The ball stopped in the cup of his hands and he landed, hesitated, slightly dazed, and then, with a bound that carried him forward, began to run up the field, to the opposite goal posts, which seemed miles and miles away.
A frantic roar burst from both stands and the Dimsdale players turned and threw themselves at him. One went down under his cleated feet and he avoided him, a second he straight-armed with no uncertain force and then he broke away on a long run. Chaos broke loose in the stands and the captain, his supreme chance with him and up to him, ran as he had never run before, to cross the goal line at top speed and touch the ball to earth amid a terrific uproar. The goal had barely been kicked before the whistle blew, ending the half.
Down in the locker room the coach was quietly encouraging. “You are doing splendidly, boys,” he smiled. “It is hurting the pride of the A champions terribly to have a score of 14 to 0 against them. You can all see we owe the last score, with all due credit to Hudson’s run, to the quarterback’s error. They were sure to drive over the goal, but he made the mistake of tossing a pass, which Hudson speared. The next time they begin to drive, look out!”
The coach turned out to be a true prophet. Dimsdale received the kick-off in the second half and drove with crushing force right down the field and over the line for their first touchdown. The cadets were unable to hold them and the goal was kicked, making the score 14 to 7. The drive was accompanied by rough handling on the part of the heavier players, and two of the cadets were slightly injured and had to be replaced. Jim was sent in and played guard, while Don waited for his chance.
“Well, it’s a cinch we’ll never beat them at straight football,” remarked Vench, as the quarter ended, the cadets failing to gain an inch either through the line or around the ends. “They roll over us like a steam roller! We’ll have to hold them down somehow!”
But the cadets were unable to do so. Once more the preparatory players drove the lighter players before them like grass and scored a touchdown. They failed to kick the goal and the score stood 14 to 13.
“They are going to drive again,” murmured the coach, to a friend. “My boys can’t hold them on a drive.”