tackle, now on this side, now on that, and Hillton's line ever gave back
and back, slowly, stubbornly, but surely.

"First down," cried the referee. "Five yards to gain."

The pigskin now lay just midway between Hillton's ten-and fifteen-yard
lines. Decker, the substitute quarter-back, danced about under the
goal-posts.

"Now get through and break it up, fellows!" he shouted. "Get through!
Get through!"

But the crimson-clad line men were powerless to withstand the terrific
plunges of the foe, and back once more they went, and yet again, and the
ball was on the six-yard line, placed there by two plunges at
right tackle.

"First down!" cried the referee again.

Then Hillton's cup of sorrow seemed overflowing. For on the next play
the umpire's whistle shrilled, and half the distance to the goal-line
was paced off. Hillton was penalized for holding, and the ball was on
her three yards!

From the section of the grand stand where the crimson flags waved came
steady, entreating, the wailing slogan:

"_Hold, Hillton! Hold, Hillton! Hold, Hillton!_"

Near at hand, on the side-line, Gardiner ground his teeth on the stem of