Evening star., 1935-12-12

ming up and down in front OF
Il the stands as though crazei
with happiness and enthusiasm. They
had never seen such team-a team
of power, manipulated by master
mind. At least it looked that way the
way things were going. Nancy clung
tenaciously to her fathers arm. Once
or twice he almost lifted her of her
feet in an excited gesture, forgetting
she was on his arm.
Colburn under the able handling of
Chuck, had carried the ball from mid
field to the Sanford 8-yard line. I'VE
want a touchdown! . We want a
touchdown" rang out the imperative
Crimson cheerers. Chuck, remember
ing Bertwell's oft-repeated advice,
sent his players wide. He would keep
away from the center of the line in
his effort to score.
He sent Salinger of left tackle for
q gain of three yards. Corbett hit of
the other tackle for no gain. Chuck
was momentarily at loss. He didn't
want to try a pass just now. San
ford had great defense against goal
line passes. And yet the wide plays
were not going like they should. The
Blue backs had come up and stopped
them by backing up the linemen.
Suddenly he thought of Blake and
what he had said to him in the locker
room just before the game. What II
1t was contrary to Bertwell's idea? 1t
might win the game. Chuck felt that
behind Blake he could go through
stone wall. He knew the mighty
power of his ile-driving fists. He had
felt them pound him into unconscious
ness once. Now it would be Blake's
long, strong legs that would do the
driving. Chuck was sure they'd do
just as well.
Signals" he called firmly, at the
same time pinching Blake on the back.
rThirty-four! twenty-six! &.
forty-nine! =. -" 1t was the fake dive
tackle play, with Chuck carrying the
ball behind Blake, after blufflng 1t to
Ealinger.
Minton snapped the ball. Chuck
took it in his hands faxed a short toss
to Salinger, who went roaring through
tackle. Then, tucking the ball tightly
in his own arms, he crouched low be-
hind the broad back of Blake and
plowed ahead. Blake bored his way
Through the Sanford forward wall like
n wild bull He was determined that
nothing would stop him. Chuck and
he ripped their way along and after
few yards they were buried under
pile of blue jerseys.
AS the players untangled them
selves. Blake, lying on the ground,
saw Chuck resting right on top OF
him. the ball still tightly claSped in
his arms. Il guess we made it, pard-
ner." he smiled up at Chuck, through
his dirt-covered face.
I'll say we did, Jed" came back
Chuck. There's the old goal line" "
And he pointed to the precious stripe
they had just crossed.
Old Man Marshall nearly went out
of his head He slapped people on
the back indiscriminately. He picked
I'D Nancy in his arms, and jumped
Ground with her in an ecstasy Of en-
thusiasm. 1t was one of the greatest
DAYS in his life. Again Colburn missed
the try for goal after touchdown.
If Colburn could only hold the lead
now, it would come off the field VIC
torious. The third period ended.
The teams walked to the otheE end
of the field. Sanford had received
the kickoff following the Colburn
touchdown, and was in possession OF
the ball. Two first downs in sue
cession brought the Blue cohort to
midfield.
Chuck was standing back, taking
things easy, more than pleased with
the turn of affairs. Suddenly, the
Crimson line seemed to part in the
center. A big Sanford back came
tearing through, running high and
defiantly. Three interfererS rushed
in front of him to give him protec-
ton. The situation seemed hopeless
to the crowd in the stand.
Only Chuck stood between the three
interferers, the ball carrier and the
goal line. A touchdown would mean
a possible defeat Old man Marshall
turned his eyes away, unable to watch
the slaughter Nancy, hearing the
walls all around her in the stands,
started to cry. Bertwell's face turned
ashen. The doom of Colburn seemed
near at hand.
ChuckS heart almost stopped beat
ing as he saw the three big inter-
ferers bearing down on him with
vengeance in their hearts. 1t was
one chance in a million that he could
penetrate the solid wall of men and
get the ball carrier. The eyes of the
protecting trio were fixed on him.
They would bowl him over. They
would drive him into the earth.
A thought flashed through Chuck's
brain. He started running toward
the left side of the field. He moved
his legs at terrific clip, as though
he were sprinting full speed. But
in truth he was scarcely moving at
all. He was like man running on
a tread mill. Plugging hard and
getting nowhere. The three interfer-
ers thinking their teammate must
have veered to the right, since Chuck
was heading that way, swung sharply
In that direction The ball carrier
In reality had turned toward the left.
Chuck at just the right moment,
side-Stepped his way through the trio,
who were of balance Just enough to