Judd sensed the drooping spirits of his teammates and called out encouragingly: "Never mind that, pals. Let's die fightin'. We're not whipped yet!"
Pole and Potts, right end and tackle, respectively, were both badly bruised and exhausted, but game to the core. Benz was staying in the line-up though he could scarcely stand. Left tackle, Oole, playing next to Judd, had done nothing for the last five minutes, but fill the gap at his position. The rube had been doing the work of two men most of the quarter. The score still stood, Pennington, 13; Bartlett, 0.
The last quarter opened with Harriett's ball on Pennington's thirty yard line. Now that Benz was practically laid out, Neil called upon Patterson and Gary to do the bulk of the work in carrying the ball. Bartlett made a slow but steady advance. Neil, finding that Judd opened big holes on every play, sent most of his plays through that side of the line. Benz limped along, helping what he could as interference.
The stands were quieter now. The great game was three-quarters over. Bartlett had put up a wonderful fight against a much better team, and lost. The Penningtonites were just toying with them now, playing a defensive game.
But, what's this? The stands came to life with a jump and a howl! Neil, quarterback, had taken the ball and dodged through a hole in the line made by Judd. He passed by his interference and the Pennington linemen. As he did this and entered the open field, Gordon, fullback, rushed in and made a clean tackle, hitting Neil so hard that the ball was knocked completely out of his grasp. Judd, who was following up on the play, saw the ball bound away and was after it. Instead of falling upon it he scooped it up and, although tackled by two men, he dragged them the remaining five yards for a touchdown!
"Rah! Rah! Rah! Rah! Rah! Rah! Rube! Rube! Rube!" boomed the
Bartlett rooters.
"Bully work, Rube!" shouted Benz. "Say,—did you ever try kicking goals? My ankle's no good,—"
"Well,—I reckon I can if I have to."
Benz held the ball. Judd poised it to his liking. He seemed
unconscious of the tremendous ovation the stands were giving him.
Plunk! The ball whizzed over the goal posts! Score, Pennington, 13;
Bartlett, 7.
"Say!" gasped Neil, weakly. "Take me out! I'm all in!"