ntary nature, started by students in the Elliott
section and quickly copied by the crowd.

"You're a great team today, boys," was Red Murdock's greeting as the
Elliott warriors lurched drunkenly into the clubhouse for their
precious ten minutes of rest. The players eyed him soberly, chests
heaving, shirts mud-grimed and torn, bodies sore and weary from
blocking the path of the Delmar tornado. And Red Murdock, looking them
over, felt how hollow would be the saying of another word. He devoted
attention instead to treating their various minor hurts and giving an
encouraging slap here and there to the back of a man whose shoulders
inclined to droop.

Furious at having been held to one lone and practically fluke
touchdown, Delmar opened the second half with a drive of even greater
power, calculated to put Elliott speedily to rout. The cream of the
country's football teams had hammered steadily enough at Elliot's line
to have worn it to shreds by now. No other eleven had stood up so long
under Delmar's terrific charging and John Brown's team must crack wide
open soon. But all through the third quarter, calling upon an almost
uncanny reserve force, Elliott managed to stave the enemy off. True,
whenever Elliott came into possession of the ball she found herself
unable to launch an offensive of her own. This was due to a Delmar
line of equal stone-wall quality--a line which had not permitted a
touchdown to be scored against it that season. And Elliott was not
going to be the first team to do it either. There was humiliation
enough for Delmar in the fact that victory was being won by so small a
margin.

Going into the last quarter, the stands could notice a perceptible
wilting of the Elliott team. There were no expressions of surprise at
the sight, only wonderment that John Brown's eleven had withstood the
gruelling attack that long. A wave of sympathetic feeling passed over
the stadium. The crowd did not care to see the pathetic spectacle of a
team which had acquitted itself so nobly in the face of odds, crumbling
in the final fifteen minutes of play and falling a helpless, exhausted
victim to the ravages of a foe already maddened at having been so
bitterly repulsed.

Now, as the vast throng looked through half-closed eyes, it saw the
mighty Delmar slowly corning into her own. Taking the ball on her
forty-two yard mark, Delmar sent her backfield men galloping through
holes which began to yawn open in the Ellio