"Don't worry. They will have to be pretty foxy to spot me, but I'm not going to be a temperance crank just because those coaches say so. Come ahead and we'll have some fun. It will be stiff enough work to-morrow."
The practice game was a hard one. Each player did his best, and on several occasions, after a hard scrimmage, time had to be taken out while some cadet had the wind pumped back into him, or a twisted ankle vigorously rubbed.
Slowly but surely the Varsity pushed back the luckless scrub. Slowly but surely a touchdown seemed about to be made. Dick gave a signal for a fake kick. John Stiver, the left half-back was to take the ball, run wide toward his own right end, pass the pigskin to Teddy Naylor, at full-back and the latter was to try and advance it for a touchdown.
All went well until Teddy got the ball. Then, as he was charging around the end, with Dick and Stiver forming interference for him, he dropped the ball. Something like a groan came from the young millionaire, for he saw their chance to score lost. Tom Coleton, of the scrub, came charging through, but the next instant Dick had made a grab for the pigskin, picked it up, and, dodging Coleton, made a dash toward the goal line.
The day was saved, for our hero, making a splendid run, planted the ball squarely between the posts, and behind the final chalk mark.
"Touchdown! Touchdown!" came the triumphant cry. "Varsity touchdown!"
"But it wouldn't have been one except for Hamilton," remarked Mr. Martin grimly. "Naylor, how did it happen that you couldn't hold the ball?"
"I don't know," answered the luckless captain.
"We can't have that," remarked Mr. Spencer with a dubious shake of his head. "Well, try for goal."
It was an easy shot, and Innis made it quickly. Then the game went on, but the Varsity could not score again, and the scrub was equally unable to advance the ball when they had it.