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That was classy stuff. You went down the line like a shot from a gun." "It saved the goal line all right," panted Dick. "Jove! They were close. It looked for a minute as though they had us going." The ball was put into play again but just as the teams lined up time was called. The game was three-quarters over and the remaining fifteen minutes would tell the tale of victory or defeat. The boys stood around in groups scraping the mud from their uniforms and rubbing rosin on their hands to get a better grip in tackling. Just as the breathing spell was over the sun suddenly burst forth in a blaze of glory. Umbrellas went down like magic and even the "Maroon" supporters, chagrined as they were, joined in the cheer that rose from the drenched spectators. It put new life into the players also. "Look!" cried Bert as the teams took their places. "The rainbow!" All eyes were turned in the direction he pointed, where in a magnificent arch of shifting colors the bow of promise curved over the field. "It's our rainbow," shouted Tom. "We saw it first." "Come off, you dubs," sang out Halliday. "Don't you see that it's over our goal?" "Sure," retorted Tom. "That's to show us where we've got to go." "It is, eh?" said Halliday grimly. "You'll only get there over our dead bodies." "You're dead ones already," taunted Drake good-naturedly. "You're only walking round to save funeral expenses." But in the furious battle that developed from the kick-off, it was evident that the "Maroons" were very lively corpses. It was no use to play on the defensive. If they did that, they were beaten already by the three points that now loomed up in such tremendous proportions. Nor was there any reason to keep any of their plays up their sleeves. For them it was the last game of the season and now was the time to uncover their whole "bag of tricks." So they threw caution to the winds and played with utter recklessness and abandon. Their "Wheel shift" was a new one on the Blues, and the "Maroons" had used it twice for a gain of thirty yards before the Blues solved and checkmated it. Then the forward pass was tried, usually without advancing the ball, though one clever skirting of the end gained fifteen yards. The ball was getting pretty well down into Blue territory when a magnificent drop kick by Bert sent it sailing to the middle of the field. In the momentary silence that succeeded the cheering, some wag from the Blue stands pipe
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