There was a vicious plunge into the line, but the gain was small.
“They’s holding us!” murmured Blake, at Andy’s side.
“Oh, it’s early yet,” answered Andy. He wondered why his hands pained him, and, looking at them found that he had been clenching them until the nails had made deep impressions in his palms.
Again came a plunging, smashing attack at Harvard’s line, and a groan from the Yale substitutes followed. The Yale back had been thrown for a loss.
“We’ve got to kick now,” murmured Andy, and the signal came.
Then it was the Yale ends showed their fleetness and they nailed the Harvard man before he had gained much. An exchange of punts followed, both teams having good kickers that year.
Then came more line smashing, in which Yale gained a little. It was a fiercely fought game, so fierce that before five minutes of play Harvard had to take one man out, and Yale lost two, from injuries that could not be patched up on the field.
“I’ve got a chance! I’ve got a chance!” exulted Andy.
But it was not rejoicing at the other fellows’ misfortunes. Unless you have played football you can not understand Andy’s real feelings.
The first quarter ended with neither side making a score, and there was a consultation on both teams during the little breathing spell.