"Now we're going to see some fun!" called a fellow who was waving the colors of Clifford with great vim.
And under the eyes of thousands of eager spectators, the rival elevens took the places assigned to them to await the signal for play.
CHAPTER IX
A HARD FOUGHT FIRST HALF
Although there might be changes at any time during the progress of a fiercely contested game, the line-up at the start was as follows:
COLUMBIA.
Comfort.
F.B.
Allen, Captain. West.
R.H.B. L.H.B.
Wallace.
Q.B.
Shadduck. Oakes. Harper. Bird. Daly. Eastwick. Morris.
R.E. R.T. R.G. Center. L.G. L.T. L.E.
CLIFFORD.
Evans. McQuirk. Roe. Gentle. Ross. Adkins. Smith.
L.E. L.T. L.G. Center. R.G. R.T. R.E.
Style.
Q.B.
Coots. Wentworth.
L.H.B. R.H.B.
Hastings, Captain.
F.B.
Clifford was to kick off.
Hastings, the big captain, stood there, poising himself for the effort, and every eye was glued upon his really fine figure. Hastings knew it, and purposely lingered just a trifle longer than he would have done had there been no mass of spectators hedging in the field on all sides in a solid bank of humanity.
There was a shrill whistle, the referee's signal, and it called into life the twenty-two motionless figures that stood about the field. Big Hastings ran forward, glancing sharply about to see that his men were on the alert, and the next moment his shoe made a great dent in the side of the new yellow ball. Away it sailed into the air, far over toward Columbia's territory.