Calling for the ball to be passed to him, Fred again found the hole made by Tompkins, was through the Landon line and dodging the backs, almost before the visiting players knew it.
"Oh, you Cotton-Top!" howled the Baxter rooters.
"Stop him! Down him!" yelled Landon.
Only the opposing full back was between Fred and the goal line, but that player was charging at the yellow-haired boy like a maddened bull.
Suddenly the Landon man dove at Fred.
Scarcely breathing, the spectators watched.
But the half-back had been expecting the move, and, leaping in the air and to one side, he escaped the outstretched arms and raced unhindered across the goal line.
Wildly Baxter cheered, yelling and waving their banners, as Bronson sent the ball spinning between the goal posts.
Desperately, Landon strove to hammer their way through the lighter line of their opponents. But Fred resorted to a kicking game, and Bronson's long spirals ever kept the Baxter goal out of danger.
With only three minutes more to play, and the ball his, Fred again signalled for it to be passed to him, and carried it to the twenty-yard line.