Only seven more minutes remained of the second half. Columbia
adherents were jubilant. They already began to discount a victory,
and were winding up preparatory to making the air ring with their
shouts.

The wise ones kept close watch of the play. They had known
occasions just like this when the winning team became over
confident, and the last few minutes witnessed their utter rout.

Would it happen so in this case? Clifford was exerting every
effort to bring about such a happy condition of affairs. Frank had
warned his men against the slightest slackening of speed or
vigilance. No game is won until the referee's signal announces
that the end has come.

Now the determined Clifford hosts had carried the ball over into
the territory of their rivals. Columbia was visibly weakening
before these fearful plunges, and it seemed as though flesh and
bone could not hold out against them. Seconds counted now. How
desperately Frank and his backers fought to ward off the
threatening evil. Every lawful tactic that would bring about delay
was brought into bearing. Twice had the ball gone out of bounds,
which necessitated a new alignment, and consequent passage of
those precious seconds.

Columbia was on the defensive; but it was a splendid exhibition of
harrying play they put up, thanks to the instructions of Coach
Willoughby. On their fifteen-yard line they faced the Clifford
crew for the last struggle. Despite the prediction of the man who