How wonderfully well McBride, the Yale captain, kicked that day! What a
power he was on defence! I saw him do some wonderful work. It was after
one of his long punts, which, with the wind in his favor, went about
seventy yards, that Princeton caught the ball on the ten-yard line.

Wheeler dropped back to kick. The Yale line men were on their toes ready
to break through and block the kick. The Yale stand was cheering them
on. Stillman was the first man through. It seemed as if he were
off-side. Wheeler delayed his kick, expecting that an off-side penalty
would be given. When he did kick, it was too late, the ball was blocked
and McBride fell on it behind the goal line, scoring a touchdown for
Yale, and making the score 6 to 5 in favor of Princeton.

Believe me, the Yale spirit was running high. The men were playing like
demons. Here was a team that was considered a defeated team before the
game. Here were eleven men who had risen to the occasion and who were
slowly, but surely, getting the best of the argument.

Gloom hung heavy over the Princeton stand. Defeat seemed inevitable. Of
eleven players who started in the game on the Princeton side, eight had
been incapacitated by injuries of one kind or another. Doc Hillebrand,
the ever-reliable, All-American tackle, had been compelled to leave the
game with a broken collar-bone just before McBride made his touchdown.

I remember well the play in which he was injured and I have
resurrected a photograph that was snapped of the game at the moment that
he was lying on the ground, knocked out.

[Illustration: HILLEBRAND'S LAST CHARGE]