And then again, a second later: “’Rah, ’rah, ’rah! ’Rah, ’rah, ’rah! ’Rah, ’rah, ’rah! Turner!”
Ned turned imploringly to the tall policeman. “What—who was that last fellow they cheered?” he faltered.
The policeman looked down impatiently.
“Turner. Guess he’s going to kick a goal for ’em.”
CHAPTER XXI—THE UNDERSTUDY
“Block that kick! Block that kick! Block that kick!” chanted Farview imploringly, from across the trampled field.
Yet above the hoarse entreaty came Hop Kendrick’s confident voice: “All right, Hillman’s! Make it go! Here’s where we win it! Kick formation! Turner back!” And then: “25—78—26—194! 12—31—9—”
But it was Hop himself who dashed straight forward and squirmed ahead over one white line before the whistle blew.
“Fourth down!” called the referee. “About four and a half!”
“Come on!” cried Hop. “Make it go this time! Hard, fellows, hard! We’ve got ’em going!” He threw an arm over the shoulder of the new substitute. Those near by saw the latter shake his head, saw Hop draw back and stare as if aghast at the insubordination. Farview protested to the referee against the delay, and the latter called warningly. Hop nodded, and raised his voice again: