The Mark of the Knife

by Clayton H. Ernst

The Jefferson captain now stepped back into kicking position. The ball was snapped as if for a punt, but Norris, instead of kicking, started around the Ridgley right end. Neil Durant went over swiftly, but one of the Jefferson backs formed perfect interference and the big wearer of the purple, evading the Ridgley end and the captain went through into an open space,—and almost before the Jefferson stands had begun to shout encouragement to him had covered twenty yards.

It was Teeny-bits running diagonally across the field who finally made the tackle. To the Ridgley left-half a strange feeling had come as he saw Norris break away; it had seemed to him, for a brief instant, that anything he could do would be of no use whatever. In the next moment he found himself almost upon Norris and before he had time to think he had made a tackle that turned the despairing groans of the Ridgley supporters into a yell of relief. The great Jefferson full-back had been stopped dead by the smallest man on the field. Norris got to his feet and looked at Teeny-bits with the same expression of interest that had appeared on the faces of the Ridgley regulars weeks before when Teeny-bits had made his first appearance with the scrub.

"Some tackle!" he exclaimed, and grinned, as much as to say: "Well, well, that's pretty good for a little fellow."

In the scheme of plays as outlined before the game by Coach Murray, Ridgley when on the defensive was always to keep an eye open for Norris. Neil Durant had been told off to watch the Jefferson captain; it was his duty to shift his position always in accordance with any shift that Norris made. Of course the Ridgley ends—and every member of the team for that matter—had been drilled to be "in" on every play; upon Neil, however, had been placed the responsibility of seeing that the purple leader did not escape into an open field. But if Ridgley was watching Norris, Jefferson was watching Durant, and Neil found himself, as the game went on, more and more the target of Jefferson players who were quick to realize that Durant had been given the responsibility for stopping their captain. When Norris carried the ball, Neil, coming in swiftly to intercept him, time and again found his way blocked by a Jefferson player who flung himself across his path.

After the twenty-yard run by the Jefferson captain there was a succession of line plunges which gained first down for the purple; then came another end run by Norris which brought the ball beyond the middle of the field. Here the Ridgley team made a stand that the newspaper reporters later described as a "stone-wall defense"; after three tries Jefferson had succeeded in advancing the ball only five yards. Whipple, of the purple team, then sent a long spiral punt down the field; the leather oval flew over the head of Dean, rolled across the goal line and was brought out twenty yards to be put in play by the Ridgley team.

For the first time Ridgley had an opportunity to carry the ball, and the cheer leader, who had been gyrating frantically in front of the stands where the red color was waving, called for a cheer with three "Teams" on the end.

Dean gave the signal for Ned Stillson to carry the ball. Ned responded by dashing into a hole that big Tom Curwood made for him at center and, to the unmeasured delight of every son of Ridgley, advanced seven yards before he was brought to earth. On the next play Neil Durant slid around right end for a first down and it was now the turn of the red to wave aloft its colors. The Ridgley quarter-back then gave the signal 7, 16, 11, which indicated a double-pass play. The ball came back to Stillson who, after starting toward the right end, passed to Neil Durant who was going at a terrific pace in the opposite direction. Teeny-bits' duty was to form interference for his captain and he suddenly found himself "Indianizing" the captain of the Jefferson team. It was perfect interference and although Teeny-bits felt somewhat as if he had come in contact with a charging locomotive he experienced a thrill of utter joy as he felt the big Jefferson captain come down upon him and saw Neil Durant break through. The Ridgley captain used his straight arm on one Jefferson player, dodged another, and crossed line after line with two wearers of the purple fiercely pressing him. No Ridgley player was within reach to form interference, however, and after one of the Jefferson men had made a desperate attempt to tackle and had rolled on the ground, the other coming up swiftly brought Neil down on the thirty-yard line.

Every one on the west side of the field was standing up, and here and there hats—not always those which belonged on young heads—were being thrown into the air. More than one gray-haired man was yelling like a red Indian on the war path. A feeling of confidence that the victory would rest with Ridgley swept from one end of the stands to the other. Friends and strangers were making happy remarks to each other to the effect that this would be a glorious day for the school on the hill.

The triumphant feeling was short-lived, however, for on the next play the Jefferson left end came in swiftly and downed Ned Stillson, who was carrying the ball, for a loss of three yards.

A forward pass, Dean to Durant, gained five yards, but the next play met with a stiff defense and Neil Durant determined that the time had come to attempt a drop kick. He fell back a few yards, looked for a smooth spot upon which to drop the ball and a second later delivered the kick. The Jefferson ends had come in so fast, however, that Neil was forced to send the ball away hurriedly, and the leather flew wide of the goal posts.