“Now hold them, fellows!” entreated Colton. “Hold them! Don’t give them an inch!”
But Brewer, for the first time during the period, had the Blue’s goal-line within striking distance and hurled themselves frantically upon the defenders. Folwell was thrust aside and the big backs went tearing through for four yards. The shouting audience overflowed onto the field and had to be driven back before play could be resumed. Then a tandem attack on the other side of the line netted three yards more.
“Hold them!” cried Colton. “Play lower, Folwell! Come in here, Connor! Don’t give them an inch, I tell you!”
Again Brewer hurled her tandem of backs at the blue line and again the line wavered and was forced back.
“First down!” cried the referee, and waved the linesmen on.
There was twelve yards to go for a score. A fake plunge at the right of the line and a quick start by left half with the ball tucked into his arm fooled the defenders and before the runner was thrown to the ground he had stolen six of those precious twelve yards! Dan, who had been tossed aside like a chip, picked himself up, self-condemning and angry. The gain had been around his end. For once he had lost sight of the ball and this was the result!
“Second down, four to go,” said the referee.
A plunge at Folwell netted two yards and brought the ball within ten feet of the side-line. This was an advantage to the defenders, for there was no fear of Brewer trying their left-end again, since the runner would be forced over the line, and left-end and tackle could be used to reinforce the center while the backs clustered behind the right side of the line. Time had been called and Andy Ryan was working over Folwell. There were other injuries apparent, too. Colton had a scalp wound that was bleeding freely and Hadlock was nursing a wrenched ankle. Smith came trotting out to take Folwell’s place, and the latter, half supported by the trainer, was led off the field to the cheers of the little bunch of Yardley supporters and the gibes of the opponents.
Brewer got together, and, with heads in a circle, listened to instructions which, without a doubt had been brought onto the field by her water-carrier. Then the whistle blew again. Hadlock jumped up and limped to his place. Colton brushed the blood away from his eyes.
“Here’s where we get the ball!” he cried hoarsely. “Take it away from them, fellows! We can do it! Hold them now! Steady, everybody!”