d, and the enemy lost the
ball on downs. A fake forward pass, splendidly engineered by Billy and
Fred, would have saved the day, but Ned, who received it, slipped, just
as he turned to run. The ball dropped from his hands, and Burns, of the
Lake Forests, grabbed it on the bound and went over the line for a
touchdown.

"Five points for Lake Forest!" yelled one of their rooters.

"Six points, you mean," shouted his neighbor. "Wake up."

"Why, I thought a touchdown counted five," was the answer.

"It used to, but under the new rules it counts for six."

"So much the better! We need every point we can get," the other
chuckled. "See, there's another one to the good," as Burns kicked the
goal.

"Hurrah! That's the way to do it!"

"Now keep it up, Lake Forest!"

"Hurrah! hurrah!"

It was now the visitors' turn to cheer. They shook their rattles, blew
their horns, danced up and down and yelled like madmen.

CHAPTER XXI

A DESPERATE STRUGGLE

"We've got our work cut out for us," said Melvin grimly, as, after their
brief rest, the teams lined up for the third quarter.

"Don't worry, Mel, we've just begun to fight," was Fred's reassuring
answer.

The fighting blood of both teams was up now, and they scrapped like
wildcats for the slightest advantage. Twice during the period, Fortune
seemed about to smile on the home team, but each time the smile faded
into a frown, and the hearts of their supporters went down into their
boots.

Once, on the Lake Forest thirty-yard line, the home boys tried out a
trick play that Professor Raymond had taught them. The ball was passed
to Fred, apparently for him to make a drop kick. But instead of doing
this, he started to skirt the end. The opposing halfback thought that
this was a fake to draw in the end. He hesitated to come in, therefore,
and in the meantime Fred kept on running behind the scrimmage line,
until the halfback did not dare to wait any longer, as it seemed to be a
dead sure thing that Fred was going to circle the end. In the meantime,
Melvin had had time to get down the field, and Fred turned about
swiftly, just as the halfback reached out for him, and sent the ball
like a shot to Melvin. It was a pretty play, and nine times out of ten
would have got by, but just as it had almost reached Melvin's
outstretched hands, Barton, the opposing left tackle, touched it with
the tips of his fingers, just enough to deflect it from its course.
Ensley grabbed it, and