But no more of that. Here was a new ball. The whistle was blowing. No time, this, for dreaming. Hillcrest must win. Just must! They had lost the week before. The score now stood at a tie. Twenty yards from a touchdown.
“Come on now boys!” Dave Powers urged. “Let’s get in there and win!”
“Dave,” Rabbit whispered, “Dave, send me through their right tackle.”
“That fellow!” Dave stared. “He’ll smear you. He’s twice your size.”
“Try it!” Rabbit was pleading now. “Third down! Please, Dave—try it.”
In the huddle Dave gave his orders quickly. Rabbit was to take the ball through right tackle. His team mates gasped but said never a word.
Rabbit’s fingers trembled as they touched the ground, prepared for the play, but in his eye was a strange gleam.
Snap! The ball hit his hands. He was away. Guard and tackle on his team did their bit. It was not enough. As he leaped at the opposing line, the big tackle blocked his path. Then Rabbit did a strange thing. Coming to a dead halt he said in a low, tense tone:
“Ha! Ha! Big joke!”
Next instant he plunged head on. He struck that big tackle. He brushed him aside like a bag of straw, then plunged forward for a clean gain of nine yards.