ssing the ball to
Greg, who swiftly passed it to Prescott---and the race was on.

Lehigh's right end made a gallant dash to stop Dick. There was
a mix-up in an instant. All happened so swiftly that the spectators
were not certain how the thing had been done.

But Dick Prescott, with Cadet Greg Holmes almost at his side,
was charging across the lower field, past one of the halfbacks,
and with only fullback really in their way.

There was a tackle. But Dick was seen to come out of it, while
Greg rolled on the grass with the fullback.

"_Touchdown!_"

The air trembled with the vibration of that surging yell as Cadet
Prescott raced across Lehigh's goal line.

"Humph!" ejaculated Haynes. But he, too, was on his feet, watching
the lively performance.

Then the pigskin was carried back for the kick for goal, and the
goal was made.

Lehigh was tied! After the early discouragements of the game that
seemed luck enough.

Lieutenant Carney was the personal embodiment of joy as he recalled
the signal of Brayton and the sullen headshakes of Prescott and
Holmes.

"That was a ratty and clever piece of acting, to throw the visitors
off their guard!" chuckled the Army coach.

No time was lost in lining up again. Only seven minutes of playing
time were left. It seemed too short in which to do anything in
the faces of the Army players there glowed the light of determination.

Within three minutes the ball was well down in Lehigh territory.
The college men fought grimly now. They were becoming rattled;
the Army players seemed more confident and more full of spirit
than at time in the day.

Now there came another play. Again the Army's left wing was used.
There was a short, desperate scrimmage. The Army had gained four
yards, yet lost---what?

For, out of that scrimmage came Dick and Greg, each limping enough
to be noticed.

One of the Army "rainmakers" (doctors) even started out from the
side lines, but Brayton waive the medical officer back.

"Is it a trick, this time, or real?" wondered Conch Carney, who
did not care to be caught napping again.

"Five---nine---seven---two---eighteen!"

The last numeral called for a fake kick. So well was the strategy
carried out that Lehigh was even trapped into spreading out a trifle.

It was a left-end play again, however, and Dick and Greg, backed
by all the rest, fought to put it through.

Lehigh's halfback caught Prescott this time---caught him fair
and full, a