For by this time Kernahan had decided that the two-mile event was what he was cut out for, but promised him, nevertheless, that at the indoor athletic meeting, in February, he should be allowed to try both the mile and the two miles. The trainer’s instruction had already bettered Allan’s form; his stride had lost in length and gained in speed and grace until it became a subject for admiring comment among the fellows.
The Purple, in an article on Fall Work of the Track Team Candidates, hailed “Ware ’07” as “a most promising runner, and one who has improved rapidly in form since the Fall Handicaps until at present he easily leads the distance men in that feature. It is Mr. Kernahan’s intention,” concluded the Purple, “to develop Ware as a two-miler, since this year, as in several years past, there is a dearth of first-class material for this distance.”
But the rains put an end to the track work, as they put an end to all outdoor activities save football, and training was practically dropped by the candidates. On three occasions, when the clouds temporarily ceased emptying themselves onto a sodden earth, the middle and long distance candidates were sent on cross-country jogs and straggled home at dusk, very wet and muddy, and much out of temper. A week before Thanksgiving the sky became less gloomy and a sharp frost froze the earth till it rang like metal underfoot.
It was on one such day, a Saturday, that the Robinson freshman football team came to town and, headed by a brass band, marched out to the field to do battle with the Erskine youngsters. The varsity team had journeyed from home to play Artmouth, and consequently the freshman contest drew the entire college and town, and enthusiasm reigned supreme in spite of the fact that a Robinson victory was acknowledged to be a foregone conclusion.
Allan and Tommy Sweet watched the game from the side lines; Tommy, with note-book in hand, darting hither and thither from one point of vantage to another, and Allan vainly striving to keep up with him. The latter had gained admission beyond the ropes by posing as Tommy’s assistant; the assistance rendered consisted principally of listening to Tommy’s breathless comment on the game.
“Oh, rotten!” Tommy would snarl. “Two yards more!... Oh; perfectly rotten!... See that pass? See it? What? Eh, what?... Now, watch this! Watch— What’d I say? Good work, Seven!... Now, that’s playing!... Third down and one to— What’s that? Lost it? Lost nothing! Why, look where the ball is! How can they have lost— Hey! how’s that for off-side? Just watch that Robinson left end; look! See that?... Three yards right through the center! What was Burley doing?... Well, here goes for a touch-down. There’s no help now!... Another yard!... Two more!... Did they make it? Did they?... Hi-i-i! Our ball!”
It was a very pretty game, after all, and when the first half ended with the score only 5 to 0, in the visitors’ favor, Erskine’s hope revived, and during the intermission there was much talk of tying the score, while some few extremely optimistic watchers hinted at an Erskine victory. Considering the fact that the purple-clad team was twelve pounds lighter than its opponent, this was a good deal to expect, and Tommy, a fair example of conservative opinion, declared that the best he looked for was to have the second half end with the score as it then stood. But a good many guesses went wrong that afternoon.
Erskine had played on the defensive during the first half, and when, after receiving Robinson’s kick-off, she punted the ball without trying to run it back, it seemed that she was continuing her former tactics. The punt was a good one and was caught on Robinson’s thirty-yard line. The Brown accepted the challenge and returned the kick. It went to Erskine’s forty-five yards. Again Poor punted, and the ball sailed down to the Brown’s fifteen yards, where it was gathered into a half-back’s arms. Erskine had gained largely in the two exchanges of punts, and her supporters cheered loudly, while Robinson, realizing discretion to be the better part of valor, refrained from further kicking and ran the ball back ten yards before she was downed.
And then, as in the first period of play, she began to advance the pigskin by fierce plunges at the Erskine line. But now there was a perceptible difference in results, a difference recognized by the spectators after the first two attacks. Robinson wasn’t making much headway. Twice she barely made her distance; the third time she failed by six inches and, amidst cheering plainly heard on the campus, Erskine took the ball on her opponent’s twenty-five yards. The first plunge netted a bare yard, yet it carried the ball out of the checker-board, and a line-man dropped back. Tommy set up a shout.