of "Indians" were hoarse with their efforts thus early in the
game, but gallantly they kept at it. There was a little silence
while the Clifford players lined up back of their goal posts, and
then Ralph West kicked goal, the ball sailing true between the
posts, and making the score six to nothing in favor of Columbia.

"That's the stuff! That's going some! Keep it up, you Columbia
Tigers, we're all proud of you!" hoarsely called a big man,
stamping about and waving his cane adorned with Columbia colors.
He had graduated from the old school twenty years before, and he
had never lost his love for it, nor for her sons of the gridiron.

There was an exchange of punts on the next kick-off, and when that
sort of playing was over, Clifford had the pigskin on Columbia's
thirty-yard line.

"Now, fellows, go through 'em!" grimly called Hastings, and Style
began to give the signals in a snappy voice. In another instant
Wentworth, the Clifford right half, hit the line with a tremendous
smash, going for a hole between Eastwick and Daly. Their mates
rallied to their support, but there was smashing energy in the
attack of Columbia's opponents, and hold as Frank and his players
desperately tried to, they were shoved back, and Wentworth had
gained four yards.

"Another like that!" called Hastings. "Go to 'em, now! Eat 'em
up!"

Once more a smashing attack, and three yards more were reeled off
around Shadduck's end.