moment Tom felt that perhaps he had misjudged Sam in one particular.

"He certainly is making good interference for me," mused our hero.
"Maybe he won't play me false after all. But I'm going to be on the
watch."

There was now but the scrub fullback between Tom and the opposite goal
line, though it was some distance away. Most of the leading team lads,
streaming and straggling along, were shouting to encourage Tom.

"Go on! Go on!"

"Touchdown! Touchdown!"

"Good run, Tom old man!"

Tom was getting into his stride. Sam was just ahead of him seemingly
getting ready to bowl over the scrub fullback, who was racing down the
field, eager-eyed, to tackle Tom.

"If Sam disposes of him I will make a touchdown," mused Tom, and then
Sam and the fullback came together. Sam went down in a heap at the
first impact, and the fullback--who was Henry Everett--came on,
scarcely hindered.

The next moment he tackled Tom and threw him heavily, though Tom kept
possession of the ball.

"Down!" gasped Tom, as he felt the weight of his opponent. The latter
arose.

"Got you; didn't I?" he asked, grinning.

"Yes," replied Tom, looking to where Sam Heller was leisurely getting
to his feet. Our hero watched his enemy narrowly. Was it only a
fancy, or was it true that Sam had not made half a try to throw off the
interference of the fullback?

"You were easy," laughed the scrub lad. "I thought I was going to have
trouble with you, Sam, but you were easy."

"Aw, my foot slipped, and I fell, or you wouldn't have gotten me,"
asserted Sam, but to Tom's ears, somehow, the words did not ring true.

"I believe he deliberately let Everett get me so I wouldn't have the
honor of making a touchdown," thought our hero.

The players ran up to Tom.

"Good work, old man!" complimented Coach Jackson.

"Some run, Tom," added the captain. "Come on now, line up boys, and
we'll walk through 'em!"

"Yes you will--nit!" jeered the scrub captain.

As Tom was panting from his long run, the other halfback was sent at
the line with the ball. He did not gain much, and then the fullback
was allowed to try. He gained a few feet.

"We'd better kick," whispered the captain to Sam, who was giving the
signals.

"No, keep the ball," advised the coach. "I want the boys to have
practice in bucking the line. Let Fairfield try again. He has his
wind back now."

"All right," assented Morse, nodding at Sam, who began to give the
signal.

To