d out:

"It's too bad that fellow Wilson is lame." And everybody laughed.

But the laugh of the "Maroons" had a pang behind it. Only five minutes
of playing time were left, and the ball was in the hands of their
enemies. They ranged up for the scrimmage with the desperation of men
faced by advancing doom but bound to go down fighting.

And go down they did before the savage and exulting onslaught of the
Blues. Fighting, raging, blocking, charging, they were forced back
toward their goal. Drake and Dick and Axtell went ploughing through big
holes opened up by their comrades in both sides of the line until, with
two downs yet to go, the ball was in the hands of the Blues twelve yards
from the enemy's goal.

Everybody was standing now. Flags were waving, voices yelling and the
tumult was indescribable.

It was the supreme moment, and Bert was called on for the final plunge.

"Go to it, old man, the instant I snap it back," whispered Tom.

"For the sake of the old college," urged Dick.

Bert stiffened.

"Watch me," he said.

It was a perfect snap from Tom to Dick, who passed it to Bert so swiftly
that the eye could scarcely follow it. At the same instant Drake and
Axtell opened up a hole between left guard and tackle and Bert ploughed
through it like an unchained cyclone. The whole "Maroon" team was on him
in an instant, but the fearful headway of his charge had carried him
through nine of the coveted twelve yards and the goal post loomed almost
directly overhead.

"Buck up, fellows, buck up," screamed Halliday wildly. "For heaven's
sake, brace!"

Bert's head was buzzing with the impact of that mighty plunge, but his
eyes blazed with the light of coming triumph.

"Not an inch, boys, not an inch," yelled Halliday. "Throw them back.
It's their last down."

But their hour had struck. Once more the ball was passed and, charging
hard and low, Bert went into the line. The "Maroons" hurled themselves
savagely against him, but a regiment could not have stopped him. He
crumpled them up and carried the fragments of the broken line on his
head and shoulders, coming at last to the ground five yards over the
goal for the touchdown. And the Blue stands promptly went stark raving
mad.

Bruised and dizzy but smiling, Bert rose to his feet. At that moment he
would not have changed places with an emperor.

The ball was carried out to the twenty-five yard line and Dick, lying
flat on the ground, steadied it for the kick.