That ended Willard’s usefulness for that day, just as it ended the usefulness of his captor, for both boys were fairly run out. But the ball lay well inside the ten yards, and Alton’s cheers were exultant and unceasing while the half-fainting youths were administered to, Longstreth raced out to replace Willard and Lorimer sent in a substitute right half. Willard saw the last three minutes of the game from a pile of blankets at the end of the bench, saw his teammates make three gallant attempts to conquer those last stubborn nine yards, saw, with a sinking heart, Moncks stopped two yards from the line and hurled back, saw Captain Myers walk determinedly back up the field to kicking position.
Hopeless gloom shrouded the bench. Myers was no goal kicker, and all knew it. Had there been a single, solitary player out there who knew the least thing about that art he would never have attempted it. But substitution had deprived the team of Cochran and Tarver and Macon, and none of those who remained on the bench could be depended on. When all was said and done, perhaps Hutch might have chosen more wisely had he risked a forward-pass on that final down. Yet Hutch knew that Lorimer would be looking for that play and knew that if it failed Alton’s last opportunity to score would be lost. And he didn’t make the choice unaided, for Joe Myers counseled it. Joe said afterwards that he had no more idea of booting the ball over than he had of flying. Yet a more effortless, more perfect drop-kick than he made would have been hard to imagine! Straight between the uprights and well over the cross-bar it sailed, and no one needed the corroboration of the official’s upthrown hands to tell him that Alton had tied the score!
And a tied score it remained when the final whistle blew.
Alton showed as much delight over the drawn battle as though she had won overwhelmingly, and Lorimer, trying hard to smile, took what comfort she could. But if the School felt jubilant and triumphant, it was plainly to be seen that Coach Cade did not share its emotions. That game had clearly demonstrated the fact, long suspected, that the Gray-and-Gold backfield was far from the scoring combination it should be. With Lake playing left end, a position he had proved his fitness for that afternoon, the left half-back position was left to Mawson or Harmon. Each, while he showed much promise, was inexperienced. Cochran, on the other side, was steady but far from brilliant. The full-back position was the weakest spot of all. Neither Browne nor Linthicum had the hard-fighting spirit needed. That Alton had not met defeat was due to a flash of cleverness on the part of Harmon and not to any dependable team-work by the backs. The coach, while he appeared to be listening attentively enough to Joe Myers’ short-breathed remarks as they walked together to the gymnasium, was in reality grimly determining on a backfield shake up when Monday arrived.
“If there’d been anyone around him to put that Lorimer half-back out,” said Joe, “he’d have made it easily.”
“Who?” Mr. Cade asked blankly.
“Why, Brand Harmon! He made a corking try, anyway!”
“Harmon? Yes, that’s so,” agreed the coach thoughtfully. “Think it was an accident? Suppose he could do it again?”
“He’s got it in him,” answered Joe convincedly. “Give him a try, sir. I would.”
“I think I shall,” mused the other. “He certainly deserves it.”