The 'varsity was now playing fiercely, and had the "measure" of the scrub. Those unfortunate lads tried in vain to stem the human torrent. The first team had the ball, and were not going to give it up. Down the line they rushed, shoving the second lads to one side—bowling them over.
"Touchdown! Touchdown!" came the cry when the five-yard line was reached. "Touchdown!"
And a touchdown it was, Sid being pushed and dragged over the line. It took eight minutes of play to make it, though, and the scrub felt in their hearts that they had done good work, as indeed they had.
There was another line-up, after a kick-off, and the scrub had another chance to show what they could do, but they failed to gain in two trials, and kicked. Then the 'varsity once more had the ball, and in the little while remaining to play, for the half had been lengthened to fifteen minutes, they rushed it up the field. A forward pass was tried, but did not work well, nor did an onside kick, and Mr. Lighton wisely decided to defer these plays until the team worked together better in straight football.
"Well, what do you think?" asked Kindlings, as he walked to the gymnasium with the coach.
"It might be worse," was the non-committal answer. "But they all mean well, and as soon as
