“There’s no law against it, only, with a lead of thirteen points, it seems to me it would be a good chance to let some of the subs smell gunpowder. I guess he knows what he’s doing, though.”
“I do hope he has a successful season,” said Louise. “I like Lanny, and he always works so hard at everything that he deserves to win.”
“He’s pretty well handicapped just now. The team really does need a coach, and the Athletic Committee didn’t make any kind of a popular hit with the school when it decided against paying for one the other night. The fellows blame Mr. Grayson for that, by the way, and I suppose that’s one reason why they don’t subscribe more liberally to the Fund. There’s a wretched kick-off for you!”
“Did Bert Cable do that, Dick? I thought he usually kicked splendidly.”
“He does the best he can considering that he doesn’t think it worth while to cock the ball any,” replied Dick dryly. “Bert evidently thinks that pile of sand out there is to look at. If he’d tee the ball up properly and— Good work, Clearfield!”
Kent, the purple-legged right guard had broken through and smeared Highland’s play behind her line, and an approving cheer arose from the stand. Highland tried an end run and made four yards and then attempted a forward pass which failed. With almost ten yards to go, she got a fine long punt away and her ends raced up the field under it and, undisturbed by the wretched attempt at interference put up by the Clearfield backs, nailed Cottrell in his tracks. For six of the ten minutes constituting the third period Highland, playing desperately, held her opponent away from her goal line. Then a fumble by Lanny worked to Clearfield’s advantage, for Chester Cottrell recovered the ball as it trickled back, dodged a plunging Highland forward, put an end out with a straight-arm and suddenly found himself clear. That run began on Clearfield’s thirty-seven yards and would certainly have resulted in a touchdown had not Cottrell, in evading a tackle by the opposing quarter, slipped one foot across the side line. Although Cottrell kept on and landed the ball under the cross-bar, and although Clearfield expressed its delight with much shouting, the referee called the ball back and put it in play on Highland’s twenty-three yards. The Blue-and-Blue won the admiration of friend and foe alike then, for she disputed every inch of the ground and Clearfield won her first down only after the hardest work and by a margin so slim that the linesmen had to trot in with the chain and measure the distance. Lanny’s attempt on the next play to circle the opponent’s left wing failed and Felker could make only three yards through the line. With seven to go on the third down, Lanny and Cottrell put their heads together and Lanny called in Morris Brent.
The ball was then almost opposite the center of the goal and on the ten-yard line. Morris dropped back to kicking position, swung one sturdy leg experimentally and held up his hands. Highland, shouting, “Block it! Block it!”, poised, ready to break through. Then back shot the ball. Morris barely caught it as it tried to pass over his head. Before he could get back into position the Blue-and-Blue was on him. Wisely, he made no effort to kick, for the ball would surely have been blocked, but instead ran back and desperately attempted a forward pass to Grover. The ball, however, grounded and there was a minute of time during which Highland tried to persuade the referee that the pass was illegal, that Morris had purposely grounded the ball to save a loss of territory. But the official decided that the play had been fair and the teams lined up on the twenty-one yards and again Morris walked back. The chance of scoring by drop-kick was pretty slim now, for the kicker was near the thirty-yard line and Highland had just demonstrated her ability to break through. But Morris did it. The pass was straight and breast-high and the ball left his toe quickly and surmounted the upstretched hands of the leaping enemy. There was an instant of doubt as the pigskin seemed to hesitate at the bar, but it went over, although by inches only, and Clearfield’s thirteen points became sixteen.
As the teams lined up again for the kick-off Morris retired once more, receiving an ovation as he walked to the bench. Nelson Beaton took his place for the few seconds remaining. Then the whistle blew and the third period was at an end.
When the teams faced each other again on Clearfield’s thirty yards substitutes were much in evidence. Jones was in place of Grover, Arthur Beaton for Haley, Tupper for Hansard and Kirke for Cottrell, and Felker was back at full. Highland Hall, too, had run new men on. Clearfield started rushing again and was soon past the center of the field. Kirke, the substitute quarter, got his signals mixed then and there was a ten-yard loss, and Clearfield kicked. Highland caught the ball on her twenty-five-yard line and came back twelve, the Purple’s ends showing up poorly. In the next scrimmage Beaton, Clearfield’s substitute center, received a blow on the head and retired in favor of Pete Robey. Pete had been trying for guard position and the duties of center rush were none too familiar to him, and, in spite of Lanny’s coaching, he was very weak on defense. Twice Highland made big gains through him before the secondary defense came to his assistance. Near the middle of the field Highland was forced to punt and Tupper fumbled on his twelve yards, recovered, tried to advance by a run across the field and was finally stopped for no gain. A fake-kick play with Felker taking the ball for a try around left end resulted in a loss and Felker kicked on second down. Highland signaled fair-catch and held the ball on Clearfield’s thirty-seven yards. A forward pass went diagonally to the right end and that youth plunged through half the Clearfield team before he was forced out near the twenty-yard line. The blue-coated adherents of the visiting team cheered lustily and implored a touchdown.
A wide end run gained a scant three yards and took the ball well over to the Clearfield side of the gridiron. Another forward pass was tried but was incompleted, and, with seven to go on third down, the Highland right tackle fell out of the line and walked back to about the thirty yards, while the quarterback knelt in front of him and patted the turf.