While the ball was being brought out to the twenty-yard line, Norris gathered his players around him for a few seconds. What he said apparently had an immediate effect, for when the play continued, Jefferson seemed to be filled with a new spirit. From the twenty-yard line the eleven invaders advanced down the middle of the field, mostly by line rushes. At that point they tried a forward pass, and the ball, when it came to a stop, rested on the Ridgley thirty-five-yard line.
Teeny-bits was breathing hard; he had thrown himself into each play with every ounce of strength and determination at his command and more than once had helped retard the advance of the purple. Neil Durant, too, had been strong in defense, but the Jefferson team could not be denied. From the thirty-five-yard line the purple started a play which brought gloom to the Ridgley stands. Norris ran with the ball round right end, somehow succeeded in evading the Ridgley primary defense, dodged both Durant and Teeny-bits and before the horrified eyes of the members of Ridgley School dashed madly down the field, over the goal line and round until he had placed the ball squarely behind the goal posts. On the black scoreboard a white figure 6 appeared after the name of the visiting school and a few moments later it was replaced by a 7.
Jefferson kicked off to Ridgley and the game was on more fiercely than ever, for Neil Durant's team meant to lose no time in winning back the superiority which had seemed to be theirs in the opening moments of the quarter, and the Jefferson players, for their part, meant to amplify their advantage until it assumed the proportions of the triumph, upon the attainment of which they had set their hearts.
All other games—their long succession of victories—were forgotten; the result they achieved against their ancient rival would overshadow everything else.
Ridgley was forced to kick after gaining one first down, by means of a forward pass, and the ball, once more possessed by Jefferson, was soon making an advance which influenced some one with a raucous voice in the purple stands to yell out in a lull of the cheering:
"It's all over, boys. Bring the undertaker!"
It did appear that Ridgley was in for a sorry time. Norris was living up to his reputation and seemed, in spite of the valiant efforts of every Ridgley player, to have luck always on his side. Once Stillson and Durant collided as they were about to tackle the Jefferson captain and the result was a twenty-yard gain which placed the ball again within the shadow of the Ridgley goal posts. Straight line plunges in which all of the Jefferson backs shared brought the ball to the Ridgley five-yard line for first down. Here the team that represented the school on the hill made a stand for three downs, but on the fourth attempt Norris, unexpectedly trying the end when a line plunge was anticipated, gained across the Ridgley goal line and brought the score to 13.
"Make it a lucky number," Teeny-bits heard the Jefferson captain say to Whipple who was preparing to kick the goal.
The Jefferson player followed the instructions of his captain to the letter,—and the man at the Scoreboard put up the number 14.
Certain weak spirits in the Ridgley stands now looked at each other with faces which showed plainly that hope had fled from them, that they now knew that the Jefferson menace which had been built up week after week by rumor and also by fact, as represented in scores, was real,—that the purple team was invincible, that Ridgley had met the irresistible force and could not by any alchemy of spirit turn defeat into victory.