Amid such yells as were seldom heard on the gridiron, Frank, accompanied by Shadduck, whose interfering services were no longer needed, touched the ball down exactly in the middle of the line, behind the two posts, while the straggling Clifford players straggled madly down the field, but too late. Behind them came their leaping, dancing and exulting opponents.
"Touchdown! Touchdown!"
"Oh, you, Allen!"
"Great work, old man! Great work!" And indeed it was a splendid run.
Such shouting and yelling as there was! Herman Hooker and his band of "Indians" were hoarse with their efforts thus early in the game, but gallantly they kept at it. There was a little silence while the Clifford players lined up back of their goal posts, and then Ralph West kicked goal, the ball sailing true between the posts, and mxaking the score six to nothing in favor of Columbia.
"That's the stuff! That's going some! Keep it up, you Columbia Tigers, we're all proud of you!" hoarsely called a big man, stamping about and waving his cane adorned with Columbia colors. He had graduated from the old school twenty years before, and he had never lost his love for it, nor for her sons of the gridiron.
There was an exchange of punts on the next kick-
