[CHAPTER XXIV]
“WE’VE WON!”
For nearly an hour Russell had sat, blanketed, tense of nerves, on the narrow bench on the Alton side of the field and watched the fortunes of battle. There had been no scoring. Twice Kenly’s red-stockinged warriors had threatened the home team’s goal, once trying a drop-kick from an almost hopeless distance and once piling up on the twenty-three yards for three downs and no gain and then hurling a hit-or-miss forward pass that, fortunately for the defenders, had missed! Once Alton had rushed as far as Kenly’s eighteen yards where an off-side play had spoiled her chance of scoring. A desperate fake kick, with Harmon taking the pigskin around left end, had lost the ball on the nineteen. For the rest of the time the two teams had edged back and forth across the almost obliterated fifty-yard line, rushing, passing, punting, playing somewhat ragged football to be sure, but playing it very desperately.
Now the Gray-and-Gold was back in the gymnasium, sore and battle-scarred; weary, too, but not knowing it. And the minutes were ticking away fast toward the second half. Manager Johnson, watch in hand, pale-faced and as nervous as a wet hen, walked a sentry beat between the door and the benches. Coach Cade had said his say, and he and Captain Proctor and Ned Richards were conferring soberly together.
“Time’s about up, Coach!” called Johnson.
The group of three broke up. The coach nodded to the manager and then held up his hand. “Same line-up,” he announced, “except Longstreth at right half and Emerson at right end. All right! You know what to do, fellows! Let’s get them this time!”
There was a cheer, hoarse, deafening, and then they crowded eagerly about the door, pushing and shoving good-naturedly, laughing, pranking, until, outside, they waited for Mart Proctor to take the lead. Then they trotted back to the gridiron, while the long Alton cheer broke forth from the stand.
Russell, keeping close beside Jimmy, tugged his sleeve. “Jimmy,” he asked with dry lips, “Jimmy, did he say me at right end?”
Jimmy turned and laughed at sight of Russell’s face. “Yes, you lucky dog! For the love of Pete, don’t look like that, Rus! What’s the matter?” Jimmy knew, but pretended he didn’t. Russell grinned crookedly and wet his lips with his tongue.