On the kick-off Surber sent a long one that let the Brown’s ends down the field, and when St. Matthew’s lined up it was on her twenty-two yards. The stand she had made almost under the shadow of her goal had given the Brown courage again, and now the Blue’s efforts were less availing. But nevertheless the battle swayed back up the field, even if slowly. It was taking St. Matthew’s the full four downs now to make her distance, and she was using every play she had, every ounce of strength and every bit of cunning in the endeavor to strike again while her adversary was weak, arguing, no doubt, that with a sixteen or seventeen point lead she would not have to do much later but play on the defensive. But the quarter ended with the ball near the middle of the field and gave the demoralized Brown warriors a few moments in which to confer and get their bearings. Coach Worden sped in a substitute for Shallcross, who was having very much of an off-day, and the substitute doubtless bore instructions from the general on the side line, for the blanketed team crowded around him when he came on.
The second quarter showed a vast improvement in the Brown. She had apparently found herself again. The line played lower and closer and, although bunching the backs up to the line gave St. Matthew’s a better opportunity for forward passes, that opportunity was taken advantage of but once. Two minutes after the whistle piped Barnstead had gained the ball on downs and the brown flags waved triumphantly. Five minutes later still Barnstead was knocking importunately at St. Matthew’s portal. But the door didn’t open, and so, to continue the metaphor, the Brown entered by way of the window, Norman dropping a pretty field goal from a difficult angle and placing a 3 on the scoreboard where a moment before an obnoxious 0 had been. But that ended the scoring in that half for either team. The battle raged fiercely from one thirty-five yards to another, each team showing the strain, St. Matthew’s punting on the slightest provocation and Barnstead hurling her backs at the line in an effort to wear down her adversary. The whistle put an end to her hopes, however, with the ball in the Brown’s possession on St. Matthew’s thirty-eight yards. Had the period lasted five minutes longer the wearied Blue line must have given way. With fifteen minutes in which to recuperate, however, there was no telling what the final outcome would be.
It was almost at the instant that the whistle terminated the first half that the door bell tinkled at the Principal’s house. The Principal, kept away from the first part of the game by a press of business, was drawing on his coat in the hallway when the maid opened the door, revealing two boys.
“Is the Doctor at home, please?” asked a voice.
The maid turned inquiringly and the Principal nodded. “Tell them to come in,” he said. Discarding his coat, he led the way to his study, the callers following.
“Sit down, please,” said the Principal. “Now, then—— Hello, young gentlemen; what’s this? Has there been an accident?”
“No, sir,” answered the younger, who was by far the more self-possessed of the two. “I—we—that is, sir, we had—had a slight misunderstanding and——” His voice trailed into silence while the Principal gazed from one disfigured countenance to the other. I think the Principal’s sense of humor—a sense popularly supposed not to belong to a Principal—saved the day for the boys. A slight smile trembled about the Principal’s mouth and he said dryly:
“A slight misunderstanding, eh? How fortunate it was not a serious one! What is your name, my boy? Vose I have the honor of knowing.”
“Danforth, sir. Could I—would you please let me tell you about it? We tried to find Mr. Adams, but he was not in, and so we came to you.”
“Explain by all means,” replied the Principal, settling himself in the big leather chair with a sigh of resignation. “But please be as brief as possible, Danforth.”