The Secret Play

by Ralph Henry Barbour

As if in obedience to such promptings, North Side began again harder, more desperately than ever. A penalty for holding put High School back to her twenty-three yards. An end run gained but a yard, and Brimmer punted almost straight into air. When the ball stopped rolling it was North Side’s on High School’s thirty-two yards. Yells of delight and encouragement came from the stand, and Danny hurled Wightson at the line again. Two yards resulted, McCoy stopping the runner. Larue made four on left tackle and was pulled down by Brimmer. Wightson again at Fudge’s position and three yards more were gained. Wightson at right guard and first down made.

Twenty to go now. Danny Shores himself took the ball but made no gain. Then Wightson made three and the fullback two, and, with five to gain on fourth down, Danny faked a place-kick and sent Wightson straight into the line, plunging, dodging, straining, and made the distance by a bare two inches, as the tape showed! Pandemonium reigned in the North Siders’ camp. Entreaties, commands, threats of personal violence were hurled at the players! High School gathered herself compactly, concentrating her whole strength behind the center of her line. For North Side had tried no end of plays and seemed not to have included them in her education. But Danny Shores was red-headed, and so is a fox. A try at the center yielded a scant two feet and took the ball to the nine yards. Then the pigskin was shot back to Larue and that swarthy-faced little Canuck shot around Grover’s end like a weasel and planted the ball just behind the left goal-post!

The North Side supporters were all for rushing onto the field and carrying the heroic Larue around on their shoulders, and it was all that Will Scott and the officials, aided by most of the visiting team, could do to persuade them to postpone that ceremony. When order had been restored and the delighted and noisily appreciative supporters had been cajoled back of the side line again, Danny essayed to kick the goal. But North Side’s chance to win the game there and then was lost, for the ball went well under the cross-bar, and High School shouted its relief.

There were still six minutes of playing time remaining, and Captain Nostrand called on his team to make the most of it. High School kicked off and North Side caught and ran back to her fifteen yards. Larue now took the brunt of the work, but his forte was broken field running, and his attempts at the line were less successful than Wightson’s. Nevertheless, North Side made first down twice and took the ball to her forty yards before she was forced to punt. Farrar caught on High School’s thirty-three and, behind good interference, ran back to midfield. There a fumble lost a down, a forward pass failed, and Brimmer punted to the opponent’s twenty. Danny Shores made the catch, but was downed without gain and Larue tried to win through the left of the line without success. A fumble by Larue cost North Side half a dozen yards, and the ball sailed through the air to midfield again. Once more Farrar caught and ran back, reeling off ten or twelve yards before he was stopped. A forward pass, Farrar to Smith, gained seven and McCoy made it first down off left tackle. From the thirty-yard line High School advanced to the six, mixing her plays bafflingly and fighting with desperation. And then, once more on the threshold of a score, luck deserted her. Farrar, attempting a forward pass to Grover, found that end out of position for the catch, and so tried, in forlorn hope, to gain around the other side. But he was caught well back of the line and, on third down, the ball went into play on the twelve yards. A double pass to Brimmer for a plunge at the left of the line failed miserably and, as a last resort, a field-goal was attempted. But Brimmer never had a chance to get the ball away, for the whole right side of High School’s line crumpled before the savage attack of the enemy, and the fullback was downed with the pigskin in his hands.

Then Fortune appeared to desert the home team utterly. Larue got clear through, eluding the secondary defense as though he was greased, and put forty yards behind him before Farrar, running desperately, brought him down from behind. From midfield to High School’s fifteen-yard line plunged the triumphant North Siders. High School was weakening every minute now. Nostrand put in two fresh linemen and replaced Burns with Sawin, but the advance went on, Larue finding all sorts of holes to squirm through, and the redoubtable Wightson, rested and chafing under inactivity, returned to the attack with redoubled fury, hurling himself at the faltering High School line for good gains.

With two minutes left and the ball just inside the third white line, High School fought for time, hopeless now of victory and only seeking to stave off defeat. Twice the whistle shrilled while some real or imaginary injury was looked to, and each time North Side raged like so many tigers who had tasted blood.

“One minute and fifty-six seconds,” proclaimed the Timer.

“All right now, fellows!” piped Danny. “Over with it! Here’s where we score again!”

“Hold them, Scrub!” shouted Nostrand hoarsely, and, “Throw ’em back!” yelled Farrar. “Get down there, Shaw! Play low, fellows! Get under ’em and throw ’em back!”