e of his captain.

He lined up hurriedly, seeing red. The interference started for him,
he flung himself at it blindly and was buried under the body of the
red-haired half. Powerless to move, humiliatingly held under the
sturdy body, the passion of fighting rose in him again. He tried to
throw him off, doubling up his fist, waiting until his arm was free.

"Why, you're easy, kid," said a mocking voice. "We'll come again."

The taunt suddenly chilled him. Without knowing how it happened, he
laughed.

"That's the last time you get me, old rooster," he said, in a voice
that did not belong to him.

He glanced back. Andover had gained fifteen yards.

"That comes from losing my head," he said quietly. "That's over."

It had come, the cold consciousness of which Cockrell had spoken,
strange as the second wind that surprises the distressed runner.

"I've got to teach that red-haired coot a lesson," he said. "He's a
little too confident. I'll shake him up a bit."

The opportunity came on the third play, with another attack on his
end. He ran forward a few steps and stood still, leaning a little
forward, waiting for the red-haired back who came plunging at him.
Suddenly Dink dropped to his knees, the interferer went violently over
his back, something struck Stover in the shoulder and his arms closed
with the fierce thrill of holding his man.

"Second down, seven yards to gain," came the welcome sound.

Time was taken out for the red-haired half-back, who had had the wind
knocked out of him.

"Now he'll be more respectful," said Dink, and as soon as he caught
his eye he grinned. "Red hair--I'll see if I can't get his temper."

Thus checked and to use the advantage of the wind Andover elected to
kick. The ball went twisting, and, changing its course in the
strengthening wind, escaped the clutches of Macnooder and went
bounding toward the goal where Charlie DeSoto saved it on the
twenty-five-yard line. In an instant the overwhelming disparity of the
sides was apparent.

A return kick at best could gain but twenty-five or thirty yards. From
now on they would be on the defensive.

Dink came in to support his traditional enemy, Tough McCarty. The
quick, nervous voice of Charlie DeSoto rose in a shriek: "Now,
Lawrenceville, get into this, 7--52--3."

Dink swept around for a smash on the opposite tackle, head down, eyes
fastened on the back before him, feeling the shock of resistance and
the yielding response as he th