“Yes, it’s all right—it’s all right,” said Gardiner soothingly. “Only go back to the stand, like good chaps.”
The boys withdrew beyond the wrecked ropes again, but did not immediately return to their seats. Many St. Eustace fellows had drawn near and were glaring threateningly toward them. Wayne, in the grasp of his friends, was dragged off the field, trembling with anger and doggedly promising the offending St. Eustace guard a licking after the game. Paddy, with a badly bruised eye, was supported to a place by the ropes, and the belligerent St. Eustace player was ruled out of the game. The Hillton contingent cheered lustily for Paddy and groaned derisively at his assailant, and went slowly back to their places, while the St. Eustace fellows were dispersed by some of the older lads. Then some one caught sight of Wayne, held in his seat by Don and Dave, and shouted, “Bully for Gordon!” which cry was taken up by others and prolonged until Don jumped up and faced the stand.
“Fellows,” he pleaded, “shut up, please! Everything’s all right now. Only keep still, will you?”
Laughter and cheers greeted him and good humor came back to the crowd. A small junior shrilled, “We’ll beat them, anyhow!” and the sentiment was applauded to the echo.
But victory for Hillton was too much to expect with Paddy no longer in line. Burton, who took his place, was a fair center, but far from heavy enough to stop the opponent’s triumphant advance down the field, and though Hillton worked desperately for the next ten minutes the ball was at length within scoring distance of her goal, and again the St. Eustace full-back dropped back for a punt.
“Can’t be done from there,” whispered Don breathlessly. “It’s forty yards, I’ll bet.” But Dave shook his head.
“That full-back’s a wonder, they say, and I wouldn’t be surprised to see him do it. If only we can get through!”
But the St. Eustace line held like a wall, the ball sped back, the full caught it neatly, and with admirable care poised it in his palm before dropping it. Then his toe caught it on the rebound and up it sailed, straight and unwavering, cleanly between the posts and over the bar! And blue flags waved and cheers for St. Eustace filled the air, and Dave and Don looked sorrowfully at each other and groaned in unison. Only Wayne in all that throng seemed not to heed or care; he was watching vindictively a boy who was waving a blue sweater on the far side of the field.
There was no more scoring done, although the Hillton team, to all appearances undismayed, returned to the game with hammer and tongs, as it were, and forced the ball to her opponents’ twenty yards ere she lost it for holding, and afterward stubbornly and heroically contested every inch of turf ere yielding it to the victorious foe. But the whistle soon sounded, the two teams gathered breathless in mid-field and cheered each other, the St. Eustace band paraded the gridiron, followed by a shouting, dancing train of ecstatic youths with blue flags, and Wayne, still pining for vengeance, was dragged willy nilly to the village and on to the train and borne back to school under strict guard and in dire disgrace—a disgrace that did not deter many a mistaken fellow from clapping him on the shoulder, and whispering a hearty “Good boy, Gordon!” into his ear.