“No, just a dislocation.”
“Too bad ’tain’t broke. They say breaks heal quicker’n dislocations.”
“My, but you’re a cheerful comforter,” muttered Kendall, as he turned to watch the kick-off. Merriwell had elected to give that honor to Nordham. There was no advantage attached to the possession of either end of the field to-day, for there was no wind. The rain still descended, but it was more like a heavy mist now. Nordham booted the ball far down the field, and Simms got it near his own ten-yard line and by a wonderful effort that brought the onlookers to their feet carried it past mid-field. By that time the Yardley back had dodged and fought his way past the entire Nordham team save its quarter and seemed well on his way for a touchdown. Having outstripped his interference, Simms ran directly at the Red’s quarter-back at full speed. But that youth was not to be fooled. He approached Simms slowly and cautiously. Just as the runner swerved to his left the red-legged player made a diving plunge at Simms and brought him down, the two sliding through mud and water for yards after the tackle.
Yardley hammered the center for small gain and then slid off the tackles and made her distance. A fumble was recovered and an end run lost ground. Simms tried a quarter-back kick, and Nordham got the ball near her thirty yards. An exchange of punts gave no advantage to either side, and Nordham tried the Yardley center and squeezed through for two short gains. Crandall got the punt and trailed off twenty-odd yards before he was pulled down. Yardley went back to her former tactics of direct attack, plugging the guards and tackles and now and then trying a wide end run. In this manner the ball was carried down to Nordham’s twenty-three-yard line. Marion got through for three, Crandall made five on a skin-tackle play, and the pigskin rested squarely on the fifteen-yard line. There was a pause here, Simms and Merriwell holding a consultation. Kendall guessed that they were discussing the chances of making that needed two yards. To try a field goal then seemed absurd.
Finally Fales dropped out of the line and went back as though to kick, and, although there were one or two cries of “Fake!” Nordham seemed pretty well convinced that a try-at-goal was to be the play. She pulled her wings in a little and made ready to break through. This left the Yardley ends free and Kendall, noting the fact, wondered whether Simms meant to chance a forward pass. The ball went back to Fales and the big guard stepped forward and swung his long leg. The Nordham forwards came crashing through with upstretched arms, leaping and stumbling. Fales, however, had not kicked. With the nearest Nordham players almost upon him he side-stepped and hurled the ball straight over the center of the line toward where Cousins awaited it. There was an instant of suspense, of wild scrambling on the part of the defenders, and then the ball, aimed too high, went over Cousins’ head, struck an upright of the goal and bounded back. A dozen bodies threw themselves after it. But under the rules it went to Nordham for a touchback and a groan of disappointment arose from the stand. Nordham kicked from behind her goal line and Crandall made the catch on Yardley’s forty-three yards. From there Yardley hammered out two yards and then the whistle blew for the end of the third period.
As the players separated to don their blankets and change positions Coach Payson strode over to Andy Ryan. Kendall, watching, saw the trainer swing around and look at him. Payson’s gaze followed. Kendall’s heart leaped into his throat. For a moment the two talked. Once Andy shook his head slowly. Once he shrugged his shoulders. Then Payson was calling.
“Burtis!”
Kendall sprang from the bench and hurried to the side-line.
“Do you think you can go in and kick if you have a chance?” asked the coach hurriedly. “If you’re to go in at all I’ve got to put you in now. You may tell Simms not to use you except for kicking.”