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COLUMBIA HIGH ON THE GRIDIRON

In vain did the rooters urge them on to renewed efforts. Columbia seemed to have thrown up a stone wall in front of her goal lines, and no matter what strenuous plays were called off they were met with a stubborn tenacity that robbed them of results.

Only seven more minutes remained of the second half. Columbia adherents were jubilant. They already began to discount a victory, and were winding up preparatory to making the air ring with their shouts.

The wise ones kept close watch of the play. They had known occasions just like this when the winning team became over confident, and the last few minutes witnessed their utter rout.

Would it happen so in this case? Clifford was exerting every effort to bring about such a happy condition of affairs. Frank had warned his men against the slightest slackening of speed or vigilance. No game is won until the referee's signal announces that the end has come.

Now the determined Clifford hosts had carried the ball over into the territory of their rivals. Columbia was visibly weakening before these fearful plunges, and it seemed as though flesh and bone could not hold out against them. Seconds counted now. How desperately Frank and his backers fought to ward off the threatening evil. Every lawful tactic that would bring about delay was brought