the coming of a mad dog in the midst of such an assemblage of
merrymakers, out for a grand holiday?

"Run, you fellows; he's heading out on the field! Get a move on
you!" roared a voice through a big megaphone.

It was, of course, the wonderful cheer captain, Herman Hooker,
who thus gave warning of the coming peril. Indeed, his cry was
hardly needed, for the two elevens could mark the passage of the
terror by the swaying back of the lines upon lines of spectators,
all of whom seemed to be possessed of a wild desire to climb up
on the highest seats, so that the panic was fierce.

Then through the mass came the running beast, with his head close
to the ground, and trailing a chain behind him. His actions were
certainly queer, and well calculated to strike terror into the
timid hearts of the helpless ones gathered there to witness the
spectacle of a football contest, and not a mad dog hunt.

And running valiantly after the brute came Officer Whalen,
doubtless intending to attempt to shoot the animal when once he
found a chance.

Suddenly the raging brute uttered a series of fearful sounds, and
started directly for one of the players on the field, as though
intending to attack him first. The vast crowd shrieked all manner
of imploring directions, and unable to render assistance, just
stood there and looked and prayed.

But Frank Allen neither started to run nor moved to the aid of the