his pipe and watched with expressionless face. Professor Beck, at his
side, frowned anxiously.

"Put it over, now!" cried the St. Eustace captain. "Tear them up,
fellows!"

The quarter gave the signal, the two lines smashed together, and the
whistle sounded. The ball had advanced less than a yard. The Hillton
stand cheered hoarsely, madly.

"Line up! Line up!" cried the Blue's quarter. "Signal!"

Then it was that St. Eustace made her fatal mistake. With the memory of
the delayed pass which had won St. Eustace her previous touch-down in
mind, the Hillton quarter-back was on the watch.

The ball went back, was lost to view, the lines heaved and strained.
Decker shot to the left, and as he reached the end of the line the St.
Eustace left half-back came plunging out of the throng, the ball
snuggled against his stomach. Decker, just how he never knew, squirmed
past the single interferer, and tackled the runner firmly about the
hips. The two went down together on the seven yards, the blue-stockinged
youth vainly striving to squirm nearer to the line, Decker holding for
all he was worth. Then the Hillton left end sat down suddenly on the
runner's head and the whistle blew.

The grand stand was in an uproar, and cheers for Hillton filled the air.
Gardiner turned away calmly and knocked the ashes from his pipe.
Professor Beck beamed through his gold-rimmed glasses. Decker picked
himself up and sped back to his position.