came, and Wallace was right under it. Into his arms, with a
resounding "pung!" the spheroid landed, and, like a flash, the
quarter passed it to Jack Comfort for a return kick.

Comfort's toe found the pigskin as if his shoe belonged there, and
back through space went the twisting oval, in a long spiral curve,
while the cohorts of both teams loosed the yells that had been
long on tap.

"Oh, wow!"

"Pretty work!"

"That's the stuff, old man!"

"Fine footwork!"

These cries of encouragement to both sides were soon lost in the
riot of cheers and appeals to the teams to "go in and win!"

Big Hastings once more had the ball, and booted down the field
with a tremendous, smashing kick. Lanky and Oakes ran to get under
it, with good intentions, but with misdirected energy, and
collided forcefully, while the ball bounced from Lanky's shoulder
and rolled along the ground, a prize for whoever could first get it.

"A miss!"

"By jove, our fellows have lost the ball!"