line. More than that, the next play is back at the twenty-five
yard line; so you see how easily Clifford gets out of a bad
corner."

As little time as possible was lost getting in position again. So
eager were both sides to accomplish things that they begrudged the
fleeting seconds.

The tide of battle surged back and forth. Dozens of plays were
pulled off that it would take many chapters to describe. But what
cheered the enthusiasts of the home team was the fact that most of
the work was being done on hostile territory!

In between times when there was no need of silence the raucous
voice of Herman Hooker could be heard, as he led his band around
back of the crowd, and shouted again and again in unison the
thrilling yell of Columbia, with the intention of stirring the
blood in the veins of each player, and investing him with renewed
pluck and zeal.

As if it were needed, when each one of those sturdy champions had
already been keyed up to top-notch speed. Time was slipping away,
and despite the almost superhuman efforts of Clifford they could
not seem to get the ball over that strenuously defended line of
their opponents.

In vain did the rooters urge them on to renewed efforts. Columbia
seemed to have thrown up a stone wall in front of her goal lines,
and no matter what strenuous plays were called off they were met
with a stubborn tenacity that robbed them of results.