Ned wormed himself to the front of the group, and came to anchor at the side of a tall policeman, close to the rope that stretched from the end of the stand well past the zone line. By craning his neck he could look down the length of the field. White-sweatered, armed with big blue megaphones, Brewster and Whipple and two others, cheer leaders, were working mightily, although the resulting cheers sounded weak where Ned stood. The teams were coming down the field slowly but surely, the Blue contesting every yard, but yielding after every play. The lines faced each other close to the thirty now. Across the gridiron, Farview’s pæans were joyful and confident, and the maroon-and-white flags gyrated in air. Well back toward his threatened goal, Hop Kendrick, white-faced and anxious, called hoarse encouragement. Ned clenched his hands and hoped and feared.
A line attack turned into an unexpected forward pass, and a tall Farview end came streaking down just inside the boundary. Hop was after him like a shot; but Deering, who had taken Pope’s place, ran him out at the fifteen-yard line. The Maroon and White went wild with joy. The teams trooped in on the heels of the diminutive referee, and the ball was down just inside Hillman’s fifteen. Ned looked the Blue team over. Save for Corson and White, the line was made up of first-string men, but the back field was, with the single exception of Mason, all substitutes: Kendrick, Boessel, and Deering.
A plunge straight at the center gave Farview two more precious yards, Kewpie, apparently pretty well played out, yielding before the desperate attack. Three more yards were gained between Emerson and Stevenson on the left. Third down now, and five to go! Evidently Farview was determined on a touch-down, for on the nine yards, with an excellent chance for a field goal, she elected to rush again. But this time the Blue’s center held, and the Farview left half, when friend and foe was pulled from above him, held the pigskin scarcely a foot in advance of its former position. It was Hillman’s turn to cheer, and cheer she did. Ned added a wild shout of triumph to the din about him.
Fourth down, and still five yards to gain! Now Farview must either kick or try a forward, and realizing this the Blue’s secondary defense dropped back and out. A Farview substitute came speeding on, a new left tackle. Then, amid a sudden hush, the quarter sang his signals: “Kick formation! 73—61—29—” The big full-back stretched his arms out. “12—17—9!” Back sped the ball, straight and breast-high. The Blue line plunged gallantly. The stand became a pandemonium. The full-back swung a long right leg, but the ball didn’t drop from his hands. Two steps to the left, and he was poising it for a forward pass! Then he threw, well over the up-stretched hands of a Hillman’s player who had broken through, and to the left. A Maroon and White end awaited the ball, for the instant all alone on the Blue’s goal-line. Ned, seeing, groaned dismally. Then from somewhere a pair of blue-clad arms flashed into sight, a slim body leaped high, and from the Hillman’s side of the field came a veritable thunder of relief and exultation. For the blue arms had the ball, and the blue player was dodging and worming toward the farther side-line! Captain Stevenson it was who cleared the path for him at the last moment, bowling over a Farview player whose arms were already stretched to grapple, and, in a shorter time than the telling takes, Hop Kendrick was racing toward the distant goal!
Afterward Ned realized that during the ensuing ten or twelve seconds he had tried desperately to shin up the tall policeman; but at the time he had not known it, nor, or so it appeared, had the policeman, for the latter was shouting his lungs out! Past the middle of the field sped Hop, running as fleetly as a hare, and behind him pounded a solitary Farview end. These two left the rest of the field farther and farther back at every stride. For a moment it seemed that Hop would win that desperate race; but at last, near the thirty-five yards, he faltered, and the gap between him and his pursuer closed to a matter of three or four strides, and after that it was only a question of how close to the goal the Blue runner would get before he was overtaken and dragged down. The end came between the fifteen- and twenty-yard streaks. Then, no more than a stride behind, the Farview player sprang. His arms wrapped themselves around Hop’s knees, and the runner crashed to earth.
For a long minute the babel of shouting continued, for that eighty-yard sprint had changed the complexion of the game in a handful of seconds. Hillman’s was no longer the besieged, fighting in her last trench to stave off defeat, but stood now on the threshold of victory, herself the besieger!
Farview called for time. Two substitutes came in to strengthen her line. Hop, evidently no worse for his effort, was on his feet again, thumping his players on the backs, imploring, entreating, and confident. On the seventeen yards lay the brown oval, almost in front of the right-hand goal-post. A field goal would put the home team one point to the good, and, with only a few minutes left to play, win the game almost beyond a doubt, and none on the Blue’s side of the field doubted that a try at goal would follow. Even when the first play came from ordinary formation and Deering smashed into the left of Farview’s line for a scant yard, the audience was not fooled. Of course, it was wise to gain what ground they might with three downs to waste, for there was always the chance that a runner might get free and that luck would bring a touch-down instead.
Yet again Hop signaled a line attack. This time it was Mason who carried the ball, and he squirmed through for two yards outside left tackle, edging the pigskin nearer the center of the goal. Then came a shout that started near the Blue team’s bench and traveled right along the stand. A slight youngster was pulling off his sweater in front of the bench, a boy with red-brown hair and a pale, set face. Then he had covered the red-brown hair with a leather helmet and was trotting into the field with upraised hand.
Ned stared and stared. Then he closed his eyes for an instant, opened them, and stared again. After that he pinched himself hard to make certain that he was awake and not still dreaming on the knoll beside the road. The substitute was speaking to the referee now, and Deering was walking away from the group in the direction of the bench. The cheering began, the leaders waving their arms in unison along the length of the Hillman’s stand:
“’Rah, ’rah, ’rah! ’Rah, ’rah, ’rah! ’Rah, ’rah, ’rah! Deering!”