immediately pounced
upon by half a dozen McGill men, but who, ere he is held, passes to
Campbell, who in turn works forward a few yards, and again on being
tackled, passes to The Don. It is a magnificent bit of play.

The spectators have long since passed all bounds of control, and are
pouring on the field, yelling like mad people. Even the imperturbable
old lady loses her calm for a moment, and griping Helen's arm exclaims,
"Look at that, now! Man, man, yon is a grand laddie."

There is no chance for The Don to run, for a swarm of the McGill men
stand between him and the line only a few yards off. Then he does the
only possible thing. Putting his head down he plunges into the crowd in
front of him.

"Come on, Shock," yells Campbell. Instantly a dozen 'Varsity men
respond to the cry and fall in behind Campbell and Shock, who, locking
arms about The Don, are shoving him through for dear life.

There are two minutes of fierce struggle. Twenty men in a mass,
kicking, scragging, fighting, but slowly moving toward the McGill line,
while behind them and around them the excited spectators wildly, madly
yelling, leaping, imploring, adjuring by all kinds of weird oaths to
"shove" or to "hold." In vain the McGill men throw themselves in the
way of the advancing mass. Steadily, irresistibly the movement goes on.
They are being beaten and they know it.

"Down! down!" yells big Huntingdon, dropping on his knees on the line
in front of the tramping, kicking 'Varsity phalanx.

A moment's pause, and there is a mass of mingling arms, legs, heads and
bodies, piled on the goal line.

"Held! held!" yell the McGill men and their supporters.

But before the referee can respond Shock seizes The Don below the
waist, lifts him clear of the mob, and trampling on friend and foe
alike, projects him over the struggling mass beyond the enemy's line,
where he is immediately buried beneath a swarm of McGill men, who
savagely jump upon him and jam his head and body into the turf.

"He's in! he's in!" shrieks Betty, wildly waving her hand.

"Will it be a win, think ye?" anxiously inquires Shock's mother. "It
will hardly be that, I doubt. But, eh--h, yon's the lad."

"Down! down!" cries the 'Varsity captain. "Get off the man! Get off the
man! Let him up, there!"

But the McGill men are slow to move.

"Get up!" roars Shock, picking them off and hurling them aside.

"Get up, men! Get up! That ball is down," yells the referee through the
di