But try as they may it seems impossible to get the ball to The Don.
The McGill men have realised their danger and have men specially
detailed to block the great 'Varsity half. Again and again The Don
receives the ball; but before he can get away these men are upon
him.

At length, however, the opportunity comes. By a low, swift pass from
Brown, Martin receives the ball and immediately transfers it to The
Don. Straight into the midst of a crowd of McGill men he plunges,
knocking off the hands reaching for him, slipping through impossible
apertures, till he emerges at the McGill line with little Carroll
hanging on to his shoulders, and staggering across falls fairly into
the arms of big Mooney.

Down they go all three together, with hands on the ball.

"What is it? Oh, what is it?" shrieks Betty, springing upon the box.

"I am thinking it is what they will be calling a maul in goal, and
it is a peety we cannot be seeing it," replies the dauntless old
lady.

"Oh, it's The Don," exclaims Betty anxiously. "What are they doing
to him? Run, oh, run and see!" and Lloyd runs off.

"It's a maul sure enough. Two of them have The Don down," he
announces, "but he'll hold all right," he adds quickly, glancing
keenly at Betty.

"Let me go," cried Betty. "I must go."