And drive they did. They punched holes yards wide in the lighter team’s line, rolled over them in waves, and steadily forced them back. In one of these smashes Berry was hurt and was helped off the field. The coach looked over his players and nodded to Don.
“Go in for Berry, Mercer,” he said, and was none too hopeful when he said it for Don’s playing was not spectacular and the coach wished that he had a star just at that moment.
Don tossed aside his parka and ran on the field, grateful for a chance, but not at all glad that Berry had been crippled for the time being. He reported to the referee and then, pulling his helmet down over his forehead and tightly around his ears, took his place in the backfield and bent down to catch the signals.
Dimsdale lost the ball on downs and the cadets got it almost in the shadow of the goal posts. It looked very much as though the usual thing would happen, the failure to advance and the necessity of a kick to save themselves, or losing the ball right there. The ball was snapped and a scant two yards were made.
Don played an average, ordinary game, carrying the ball twice for short gains and playing his part as interference. He found himself opposed to one large player on the other side who began to rough him with unnecessary force. It was the right halfback, a heavy-set individual who threw all of his weight with paralyzing force on Don at every opportunity. Don made no complaint, because it was part of the game for the other fellow to drop him whenever possible, and for some time he tried to believe that the man was not stepping out of bounds, but before long he knew this wasn’t so.
He carried the ball again and the same player tackled him, rolling him over and thudding down on him violently. The breath was knocked out of him and he wobbled slightly when he got up, but he said nothing, partly from a lack of breath and partly from a desire not to complain. But when the same man viciously dug him with his elbow he protested.
“Keep your elbow to yourself or I’ll report it to my captain,” he warned him.
“Aw, run and tell your mama, soldier boy!” was the derisive answer.
Don made no reply but his eyes blazed as he went back to the place he occupied. The next few plays were grim and hard-fought. The cadets had managed to make first down and still held the ball.
“Are you all right?” Vench said to Don, as they formed again.