t 'em going!" yelled Melvin. "One more does it!"

"Hold 'em, boys, hold 'em!" shouted Eggleston. "This is their last
down."

"Rushton! Rushton! Rushton!" the stands were shouting.

"They're counting on you, you see," said Melvin.

Fred's muscles grew taut, and he braced for one final effort.

Once more the ball was passed, and, like a thunderbolt, he went into the
line between centre and guard.

The whole Lake Forest team threw themselves upon him, but there was no
stopping him. Ploughing, raging, tearing, he went through them and over
the line for a touchdown!

"Look at that!"

"Great work! Hurrah!"

Rally Hall had won the game in the last minute of play!

The stands went crazy, and after the goal had been kicked, making the
final score ten to seven, the crowd swept down over the field, hoisted
Fred upon their shoulders and marched up and down yelling like Indians.
It was all he could do to get away from them and to the shower baths and
dressing rooms of the gymnasium.

Here he met with another ovation from the team itself. They were all in
a state of the highest delight and excitement at winning the game that
had seemed so surely lost, and they insisted on giving him the chief
credit for the victory.

"Nonsense," he protested, "I didn't do a thing more than any one else.
It takes eleven men to win a football game."

Professor Raymond was warm in his congratulations, and even Dr. Rally,
who had seen the game from a portion of the stand reserved for the
teaching staff, so far unbent as to stop for a moment and tell him that
he had done "very well, very well indeed."

"Say," murmured Slim, after the doctor had passed on, "even Hardtack is
human. He's got something beside ice water in his veins."

"Sure!" assented Billy, "I'll bet the old chap's tickled to death to see
Rally Hall put one over on Lake Forest."

Eggleston, the captain of the Lake Forest team, who had a few minutes
before train time, also was generous enough to come in and shake hands
with his conquerors. He was a fine, manly fellow, and took his beating
like a gentleman.

"You sure have a dandy fullback," he said to Melvin. "You've been pretty
foxy in keeping him under cover. We hadn't any idea what we were going
up against."

"Isn't he a pippin?" said Melvin enthusiastically. "You'd have copped
the game all right, if it hadn't been for him."

"He's some line bucker," assented Eggleston. "I got in his way once, and
he stood me on my