It was a game that had not been intended, but on account of the attitude which the town of Coville, located down the river and on the opposite bank, had taken during the season, there was little else for the boys of Columbia to do but to grant an after-season game.
“We can play it through and end the season,” said Frank Allen. “But I am fearful that the minds of several of the fellows won’t be as much on the game as on the camping expedition in a few days.”
The morning had opened with an attempt at a drizzle, which turned quickly to sleet, and the field was holding out the promise of being heavy and slippery.
By the middle of the morning, though, when the boys had become accustomed to the thought of playing their last game on a field that would not allow much individual fast work, the wind from the north came suddenly in.
At noon the mud of the morning had frozen hard, the skies had gathered lower and turned colder in their appearance, while the snow flakes drifted and whirled and twisted, first up, then down, sideways, hither and yon, touching the ground and being blown into little drifts against buildings, fences, sidewalks, trees and even foot and hoof-prints in the streets.
It was an enthusiastic crowd, but not a large one, that watched the final game. Coville tried hard to break through the impregnable line of Columbia, but it was a useless attempt.
However, there was compensation evident, for Columbia did not find it at first an easy task to get down the field against these warriors of Coville. It was in the third quarter that the first touchdown was made, after battering the Coville line so often that a soft spot was worn in it—and then the game went swiftly over to Columbia. The morale of Coville broke with the initial touchdown, and the fierce defensiveness of Coville broke against the onslaughts of the boys of Columbia who, led by a thinker, smashed, battered and wore down one place in the line.
“Glad we played you,” said Frank as he shook hands with the Coville captain. “You’ve got a good team, captain, and next year all these schools along the river are going to have a hard time even to hold you.”
“It’s good of you to say so, Allen,” replied the husky young Covillian. “We didn’t make much impression on you to-day, though.”
“Yes, you did! You made us use up two quarters trying to make a place where we could go through. And you held us so that we couldn’t go around. And you stopped most of our attempts to pass the ball. I’ll say you did mighty well. It’s just that we have played so long together we know what the other fellow is thinking and doing every second.”