The scrub quarter took him to one side and imparted a simple code used at practice.
“Now, scrub, take the ball,” snapped the coach, “and see what you can do.”
There was a quick line-up. Andy was trembling, but he managed to hold himself down. He looked over at the varsity. To his surprise Mortimer was being tried at tackle.
“Ready!” shrilly called the scrub quarter. “Signal—eighteen—forty-seven—shift—twenty-one—nineteen—”
It was the signal for Andy to take the ball through right tackle and guard. He received the pigskin and with lowered head and hunched shoulders shot forward. He saw a hole torn in the varsity line for him, and leaped through it. The opening was a good one, and the coach raved at the fatal softness of the first-team players. Andy saw his chance and sprinted forward.
But the next instant, after covering a few yards, he was fiercely tackled by Mortimer, who threw him heavily. He fell on Andy, and the breath seemed to leave our hero. His eyes saw black, and there was a ringing in his ears as of many bells.