"Another touchdown! Keep it up, fellows!"
"Oak Hall has struck her gait at last!"
And then the Oak Hall colors were waved wildly, while horns tooted and rattles were swung on every side. It was now Rockville's turn to remain silent.
"Be careful, fellows, don't get excited," warned Roger. "Watch your chances."
The goal was kicked, making the score, Rockville 16, Oak Hall 12. There were but eight minutes more in which to play. Once again the leather came into the field. Rockville was now on guard against another mass play and it was decided to try the left end. The ball went to Ben, who passed it to Dave. Dave made a short run and doubled, as if turning back. Then he plunged forward, hurdled (it was the old style of playing), and tore up the field for twenty yards. Then he was brought to earth with a thud that made his ears ring and caused him to see stars.
"Are you hurt, Dave?" he heard Roger ask, and sitting up he shook his head. Time had been called, and he learned that for two minutes he had been dead to the world.
"I—I guess I am all right," he said, and with a mighty effort pulled himself together. "Did—did I gain anything?"
"Did you gain anything? Well, rather!" answered Phil. "It was a dandy play!"
Again the ball was put into play, and it went back and forth in a manner that was heartbreaking, first for one side and then for the other. Then came a warning cry:
"Three minutes more to play!"