The day of the game, however, Phil seemed all right. His face was paler than usual, and there was a grimness about his lips that Tom seldom saw. The Randall boys had light practice in the morning, running through the signals, and then took a rest until it was time to go on the field.
There was a big attendance, and the cheers of the small contingent of Randall supporters could hardly be heard. The preliminary practice seemed to go all right, and when the whistle blew there was a confident eleven that lined up against Wescott. The play was hard and snappy, with much kicking and open work. The rivals of Randall had a couple of backs who were excellent punters, and the visitors were kept busy chasing the ball. But there came a change, and when Randall had the pigskin Phil rushed his men up the field to such good advantage that they scored the first touch-down, to the no small dismay of the Wescott team.
“Now, Phil, some more work like that,” said Holly Cross, but the quarter-back did not answer.
Wescott got possession of the ball toward the close of the first half, and with surprising power rushed it up the field. In less time than had been thought possible they had a touch-down. Randall lost the pigskin on fumbles, and when Wescott got it again they kicked a field goal. This ended the half.
Phil staggered as he walked to the dressing-room for the rest period.
“What’s the matter?” asked the coach quickly.
“Nothing—I’m—I’m all right,” answered the quarter-back, and he gritted his teeth hard.
Wescott kicked off in the second half, and Holly Cross managed to run the ball well back.
“Rip out another touch-down!” the captain cried as he got in place for the first scrimmage. Phil began on the signal. He hesitated. The players looked at him quickly. He was swaying back and forth on the ground. Once more he tried to give the combination of letters and figures. But the words would not come. He put his hands out to steady himself, and a moment later, with a groan, toppled over.
“He’s hurt!” cried Tom as he sprang to the side of his chum. “But I never knew Phil to give up.”