Bert took careful aim and
lifted it unerringly over the goal. It had scarcely touched the ground
when the whistle blew and the game was over. The Blues had triumphed,
ten to nothing, but only after a desperate battle that left the
"Maroons" vanquished, but not disgraced. Their gallant foes gave them a
rousing cheer that was returned by the victors with interest.
Then the crowds swept down like a tidal wave from the stands and
submerged the doughty fighters. The Blues, all muddy and disheveled as
they were, were hoisted on the shoulders of their exulting comrades and
carried from the field. And it was all they could do to get away from
them and repair to their shower and rubdown, never before so needed or
so welcome.
The campus blazed that night with bonfires and resounded with noises
that "murdered sleep." But all the pleading that the team might take
part in the festivities fell unheeded on the ears of the two inexorable
tyrants, Hendricks and Reddy. Happy and exulting tyrants just then, but
tyrants none the less.
"Not until they lick the 'Greys,'" was "Bull's" decree. "If they do that
they can split the town wide open. Until then the lid is on."
There was no appeal from his decision, and by nine o'clock the weary
warriors were tucked away in bed to dream of past and hope for coming
victory.
Dick was just dropping off when a voice came from Bert's bed:
"Say, Dick, what's the greatest game in the world?"
"Football," was the prompt reply.
"And, Dick, what's the greatest team in the world?"
"The Blues," averred Dick stoutly.
"Right," assented Bert. "Now go to sleep."
CHAPTER XII
THE COACH ROBBERY
ONE morning Bert received a letter that caused him to emit a wild whoop
of joy, and then set off post haste to find Tom and Dick. He discovered
them at last on the campus, kicking a ball around, and rushed toward
them waving the open letter over his head.
"Say, fellows," he shouted when he got within speaking distance of them,
"whom do you suppose this letter is from? Bet you a million you can't
guess right in three guesses."
"From the way you seem to feel about it," grinned Dick, "it must contain
money from home. I don't know what else could make you feel as happy as
you appear to be."
"No, it isn't money," replied Bert, "but it's something better."
"Come off," chaffed Tom, "there 'ain't no such thing.' But tell us what
it is and get it out of your system."
"It's a letter from Mr
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