"This won't do, fellows!" said Allen, seriously. "We've got to
hold 'em!"

"How's that? Guess we're going some now, eh?" demanded a Clifford
admirer, who sat next to Mr. Allen.

"Yes, you have a good team," was the answer. "But our boys are
only letting you do this for encouragement."

"Oh, ho! They are, eh? Just watch."

Indeed, it looked a little dubious for Columbia. Her players were
being shoved back for loss with heart-stilling regularity. There
was no need for Clifford to kick, and all of Frank's frantic appeals
to his men to hold seemed of no avail.

There was somewhat of a bitter feeling when, after some tremendous
line-smashing, Coots, the left half, was shoved over the line for
a touchdown, and that gave the cohorts of Clifford a chance to
break loose. They did not kick the goal, however, and that was
some encouragement for Columbia, since it left them one point to
the good.

Once more came the kick-off, and then, when Columbia had the ball,
and had lined up, she went at her opponents with such smash-bang
tactics, such hammer-and-tongs work, that she tore big gaps in the
wall of defense, and shoved player after player through. Frank was
sent over for a seven-yard gain, then came a fine run on the part
of Ralph, netting eighteen yards, while the crowd went wild. There