"The last day at old Riverview!" exclaimed Andy, looking about as he and Frank stood on the field. "Well, we've had some good times here."
"We sure have," agreed his brother, "and we're going to have a hot one pretty soon. Those Milton fellows will be here in a little while."
Some hours later there was a sound of cheering, a blowing of horns and ringing of bells. Shouts, snatches of songs, school yells, and mere whoops of joy. The Milton football team and their supporters were arriving. Riverview greeted them no less enthusiastically. Out on the gridiron swarmed the lads in their ungainly suits.
I am not going to try to describe that last game to you in detail. Ask any old Riverview student, or, for that matter, any old Milton graduate to tell you about it, and he can do it much better than can I. Sufficient to say that it began with a rush and ended with a rush, and there were rush plays every minute of it.
Never, so said old football men, had such a fierce contest been seen except among college teams. It was as if Riverview was playing for life and Milton for reputation.
"If we die, then we die fighting gloriously!" quoted Frank, at the middle period when neither side had scored. "They are sure tough, but we're tougher! We're going to win and lay it as a last tribute on old Riverview's grave."
"Of course we'll win!" cried Andy.
Up to the ending of the third period the goal line of neither side had been crossed, though the ball had been perilously close a number of times. There were cheers, songs and wild yells from the grandstands, which swayed dangerously under the stamping feet.
At last Riverview got the very chance she needed. Milton had the ball, and her player was coming through center with it. But Frank made a magnificent leap and broke through the interference. There was a fierce tackle, a fumble and our hero had the pigskin. Then, like a flash, he had tucked it under his arm and was off down the field.