The Rushton Boys at Rally Hall Part 23

"They're sure getting all the breaks," agreed Billy.

"Never mind, fellows!" sang out Melvin. "Buck up. We'll beat them yet."

But the gloom of the Rally Hall rooters became still deeper a few minutes later, when a beautiful drop kick of Fred's that was going straight for the goal was blown by a puff of wind just enough to graze the post on the wrong side.

There was no more scoring in that period, and the quarter ended with Lake Forest still in the lead.

"Now, fellows," said Melvin, as they came out to do or die in the last quarter, "it's our last chance. Go at them and rip up their line. Go through them like a prairie fire. We won't try drop kicking. Even if we got a goal from the field, they'd still be ahead, and the time's too short to make two of them. The only thing that'll do us any good is a touchdown. We _must_ win! Hammer the heart out of them! Tear them to pieces!"

And the boys responded n.o.bly. They charged hard and played fast. They plunged into the lines of their opponents like so many wild men. Every member of the team played as though the victory depended on him alone.

Down the field they went, in one desperate raging charge that carried all before it. Only once did they fail to make their distance, and even then they got the ball back promptly.

But time was on the enemy's side. They fought back savagely and contested every inch. Six, eight, ten minutes went by, while the ball was traveling down the field, and when the teams faced each other, pale, panting, covered with dust and sweat, on Lake Forest's ten-yard line, only three minutes of playing time remained.

All the spectators now were on their feet, yelling wildly, and the tumult was fearful.

"Brace, fellows, brace!" screamed Eggleston, the Lake Forest captain.

"Throw 'em back! Don't give an inch!"

Melvin selected Fred for the final plunge.

"Go to it, old scout," he said. "This is the third down. For heaven's sake, make it."

Fred's eyes were blazing.

"Watch me," he said.

Billy made a perfect snap to Melvin, who pa.s.sed the ball to Fred like a flash. Haley and Ames made a hole between left guard and tackle, and Fred, with lowered head, plunged in like a battering ram. The whole team piled in after him, and when at last he was downed, he had gained six yards of the coveted s.p.a.ce.

Dizzy and bruised, he rose to his feet.

"We've got '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 pa.s.sed, 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 pa.s.sed on, "even Hardtack is human. He's got something beside ice water in his veins."

"Sure!" a.s.sented 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," a.s.sented Eggleston. "I got in his way once, and he stood me on my head. You might as well try to stop an express train."

"It's hard to flag that kind of a train," laughed Melvin.

"Sure thing," grinned Eggleston. "Well, so long. I'll just have time to get to the station. We'll try to even things up next year."

As the boys were strolling back to the Hall, they pa.s.sed Andy Shanks and Sid Wilton talking earnestly together. They were so absorbed that they did not see Fred and his companion.

"Wonder what they're hatching up now?" laughed Fred.

"Some mischief, I'll be bound," answered Granger. "It isn't the first time I've seen them putting their heads together lately, and somehow or other, I rather think it has to do with you."

"Nonsense!" said Fred lightly.

"Maybe it's nonsense and maybe it's not," replied Melvin soberly. "I know Andy pretty well, and I'm dead sure he'll never forget the show you made of him before the other fellows. At any rate keep your eyes wide open and look out for squalls."

"I'll take a chance," laughed Fred.

"Don't take too many," Melvin warned him. "Of course, I may be wrong, but I have a feeling that he's out to do you."

Melvin was a better prophet than he knew.

CHAPTER XXII