blue like the sky on one side of Yale
Field, and red like a sunset on the other. The cheering cohorts, under
the leadership of the various cheer leaders, boomed out their voices of
defiance.

Out trotted the Yale team and substitutes, of whom Andy was one.
Instantly the blue of the sky seemed to multiply itself as a roar shook
the sloping seats--the seats that ran down to the edge of green field,
marked off in lines of white.

"Come on now, lively!" yelled the coaches, hardly making their voices
heard above the frantic cheers.

The players lined up and went through some rapid passes and kicking.
Andy and the other substitutes took their places on the bench, enveloped
in blankets and their blue sweaters.

Then a roar and a smudge of crimson, that flashed out from the other
side of the field, told of the approach of the Harvard team.

"Harvard! Harvard! Harvard!"

It was an acclaim of welcome.

Andy watched Yale's opponents go through their snappy practice.

"They're big and beefy," he murmured, "but we can do 'em. We've got to!
Yale has got to win!"

The captains consulted, the coin was flipped, and Harvard was to kick
off. The teams gathered in a knot at either end of the field for a last
consultation. Then the new ball was put in the center of the field.

Andy found difficulty in getting his breath, and he noticed that the
other players beside him had the same trouble.

The whistle shrilled out, and the Harvard back, running, sent the yellow
pigskin sailing well down the field. A wild yell greeted his
performance. One of the Yale players caught it and his interference
formed before him. But he had not run it back ten yards before he was
tackled. Now would come the first line-up, and it would be seen how Yale
could buck the crimson.

"Signal!" Andy could hear their quarterback yell, and then the rest was
swallowed up in a hum of excitement in the songs and cheers with which
the students sought to urge on the defenders of the blue.

There was a vicious plunge into the line, but the gain was small.

"They's holding us!" murmured Blake, at Andy's side.

"Oh, it's early yet," answered Andy. He wondered why his hands pained
him, and, looking at them found that he had been clenching them until
the nails had made deep impressions in his palms.

Again came a plunging, smashing attack at Harvard's line, and a groan
from the Yale substitutes followed. The Yale back had been thrown for a
loss.

"We've got to