"What was that?" he said groggily to Flash Condit.
"Two minutes more. Hold 'em now!"
It was Andover's ball. He glanced around. They were down near the twenty-five-yard line somewhere. He looked at McCarty, whose frantic head showed against the sky.
"Break it up, Tough," he said, and struggled toward him.
A cry went up, the play was halted.
"He's groggy," he heard voices say, and then came the welcome splash of the sponge.
Slowly his vision cleared to the anxious faces around him.
"Can you last?" said the captain.
"I'm all right," he said gruffly.
"Things cleared up now?"