Stearns was given the ball on the first play and negotiated three yards at right tackle. Sommers got five at left guard and Alf punted to Ayres on Broadwood’s fifty-one yards. Weldon returned the compliment and Alf made a soul-stirring running catch of the punt on his twenty-five-yard line. Tom and Stearns made nine yards between them and Tom secured first down on a split play that caught Broadwood napping. Yardley seemed now to have found her pace, for Stearns and Sommers twice made first down, and Broadwood’s line appeared to be weakening. But the gain went for little, since, on the next play, Yardley was put back fifteen yards for holding. The ball was now on Yardley’s forty-seven-yard line. Alf tried a forward pass to Dan, who fumbled the ball but recovered it on the enemy’s forty yards, while the blue flags waved joyously and the Yardley cheers broke forth again. Stearns made a gain twice, and Alf once more tried a forward pass. Dickenson secured it and made twelve yards before he was stopped. The pigskin was down on Broadwood’s twenty-three yards now and Broadwood supporters were imploring their team to “Hold them! Hold them! Hold them!”
Tom made six yards past Mills and Stearns failed to gain. The ball was on the Green’s fifteen yards and pandemonium reigned about the field. Broadwood and Yardley shouts and cheers met and mingled in a meaningless jumble of sound. Another forward pass, Alf to Dan, and the two teams, desperate, panting, determined, stood on the seven-yard line. Stearns made two and Tom two more and the ball was three scant yards from the line. And then, amid such an uproar as Broadwood field had seldom heard, Tom crashed through right tackle for a touchdown.
That was too much for the Yardley adherents. Over and under the rope they streamed out onto the field, while caps and flags sailed in air and everyone shouted to his heart’s content. The ensuing two minutes were occupied in clearing the field, and as Yardley’s rejoicing died down the Broadwood cheer made itself heard. Then Coke kicked goal without trouble and again the blue flags waved. The teams changed goals and Mills kicked off, but four minutes later the whistle blew with Yardley in possession of the ball on her thirty-seven-yard line. The rival elevens cheered each other breathlessly and started for the gymnasium as the Yardley fellows streamed onto the field. One by one the members of the Blue team were captured and borne off in triumph on the shoulders of their joyous companions, while Broadwood cheered her defeated warriors and sang her songs. As Paul Rand and Goodyear and another chap set Alf on his feet at the entrance to the gymnasium Captain Mills came up. His face was white and tired and drawn, but at sight of Alf a smile lighted it up and he turned with outstretched hand.
“It was your day, Loring,” he said heartily. “My congratulations.”
“Sorry we couldn’t both win, Mills,” replied Alf, as he shook hands. “Your men played a great game.”
Mills smiled and nodded and passed on into the building.
“Poor chap!” thought Alf, in genuine sympathy. “I wonder if I could have smiled like that if we’d lost. He’s a dandy, big-hearted fellow, that Mills.”