For St. Timothy’s, Watts dropped back to kick; Edward braced himself to prevent Jackson from breaking through and blocking the punt. And again Edward was over-eager and charged too soon,—so that before he knew how it had happened, Jackson had flashed past him and was bearing down on the full-back, who sent the ball away just in time; it sailed barely beyond the reach of Jackson’s upraised arms.
It was a good, successful kick, and in the satisfaction and relief which it occasioned, there were not many who thought of Edward’s failure to perform his part; but he was chagrined enough by it. “Steady, now; steady!” he murmured to himself, as if he were a frightened horse that was getting beyond control.
For the rest of the half he fought it out with Jackson on even terms—just as the two elevens were fighting it out. He held his own, but with increasing difficulty, and it seemed to him that Jackson was growing stronger and stronger all the time. At the end of the half, with the score nothing to nothing, he felt as