HOW THE GAME ENDED
There was another spell of breathless silence as the ball went into
play on the second half of the great game. The kick-off was clean and
clever, and for several minutes the leather remained close to the
center of the field, each eleven struggling desperately to force the
line of the other. Rockville had had one man slightly hurt and another
player had taken his place, one who was light and very wiry. He took
the ball for a run around the left end, but was brought down. Then in
the scrimmage that followed the ball came to Dave and he made a gain of
ten yards, breaking through and dodging in a manner that brought forth
much favorable comment.
"That's the way to do it," was the cry. "Carry it over the line!"
But alas! for the hopes of Oak Hall. In the very next mix-up Buster
Beggs made a bad fumble and the wiry substitute on the Rockville
eleven secured the leather. Before anybody could stop him he made a
sensational run to the end of the field.
"Another touchdown for Rockville!"
How the supporters of the military academy did cheer and yell! Horns
tooted madly and the academy colors went waving in all directions.
Gus Plum grinned silently, while Nick Jasniff winked at him.
"Say, we're all right, after all, eh?" whispered Nat Poole.
"Hush!" muttered the bully of the school. "If our fellows should hear
you they'd kill us! This defeat will make them ugly."
The touchdown was turned into a goal, giving Rockville 16 points as
against 0 for Oak Hall. Things certainly did look blue.
"Come, fellows, we've got to do something!" urged Roger. "Everybody
play for all he is worth. Don't let a single chance escape you!"
"I am going to do something if I die for it," said Babcock, and went
in with a vigor that nothing could resist. Inside of two minutes
he secured the ball, dove to the left, turned, and started for the
right. Two Rockville players tackled him, but Dave and Buster Beggs
came between and Babcock went on. Then Roger took a hand, and in the
struggle the ball went over the Rockville line amid a yelling from Oak
Hall that could have been heard half a mile.
"A touchdown for Oak Hall!"
"Now wake up, boys, and show 'em what you can do!"
Dave held the ball and Roger made the kick. The ball went through the
posts fairly, scoring 6 points for the Hall. Again came a cheer.
"Well, it's only 6 to 16," whispered Nat Poole.
"How much longer to play?" asked Plum.
"Fourteen minutes."
The six points gained put increased vigor into Oak Hall, and now
Roger gave the signal for a certain mass play which had as yet not
been tried. Like a living wedge Oak Hall struck against Rockville,
and although the academy eleven carried more weight they could not
withstand such an onslaught. They separated, and in a twinkling the
leather was carried up the field and across the line a second time,
within three minutes after the first touchdown was secured.
"Whoop! Hurrah! Look at that!"
"Another touchdown! Keep it up, fellows!"
"Oak Hall has struck her gait at last!"
And then the Oak Hall colors were waved wildly, while horns tooted and
rattles were swung on every side. It was now Rockville's turn to remain
silent.
"Be careful, fellows, don't get excited," warned Roger. "Watch your
chances."
The goal was kicked, making the score, Rockville 16, Oak Hall 12.
There were but eight minutes more in which to play. Once again the
leather came into the field. Rockville was now on guard against another
mass play and it was decided to try the left end. The ball went to
Ben, who passed it to Dave. Dave made a short run and doubled, as if
turning back. Then he plunged forward, hurdled (it was the old style of
playing), and tore up the field for twenty yards. Then he was brought
to earth with a thud that made his ears ring and caused him to see
stars.
"Are you hurt, Dave?" he heard Roger ask, and sitting up he shook his
head. Time had been called, and he learned that for two minutes he had
been dead to the world.
"I--I guess I am all right," he said, and with a mighty effort pulled
himself together. "Did--did I gain anything?"
"Did you gain anything? Well, rather!" answered Phil. "It was a dandy
play!"
Again the ball was put into play, and it went back and forth in a
manner that was heartbreaking, first for one side and then for the
other. Then came a warning cry:
"Three minutes more to play!"
It nerved all of the players up as never before and the struggle was
the most bitter yet. But with less than a minute and a half to play
Dave secured the ball and made a clever pass to Phil, who started up
the field. Babcock guarded him on one side and Roger on the other, and
in a trice another sensational run was on.
"Down him! Down him!" was the frantic yell from Rockville, and just
as Phil, panting for breath, reached the goal-line he was caught and
thrown with tremendous violence, his head striking the ground with
great force.
"Another touchdown!"
"Oak Hall wins the game!"
It was true, the touchdown had been made, fairly and squarely. With
drooping hearts Rockville came out of the mix-up. There was nothing
more to be done, for all but quarter of a minute of the time was up.
Phil lay on the ball motionless, his face buried in the grass.
"He's hurt!" cried Dave, bending over his chum. "Phil!"
There was no answer, and now Roger and some others came to the aid of
the fallen one. They turned Phil over. His face was pale and his eyes
closed. He made not the slightest sound.
"Call the doctor!" said Dave, in as steady a voice as he could command.
"I--I hope he isn't hurt very much."
Water was brought and Phil's face was bathed, but still he made no
sound nor did he open his eyes. Then the doctor came up and took charge.
"He has received a severe shock," said the physician, after an
examination. "As yet I cannot tell how badly he is affected. His head
is bleeding, and it is possible he may have fractured his skull. We had
best remove him to the house."
A barn door was procured and a blanket thrown over it, and on this the
hurt student was placed and six others carried him to the mansion. In
the meantime there had been a great cheering over Oak Hall's victory,
but this soon came to an end when it was known that Phil Lawrence had
been seriously hurt.
"I hope his skull hasn't been fractured," said Dave. "He certainly came
down hard. I heard the thump plainly."
"So did I," answered Babcock, and then he ran off to see how Henshaw
was faring. He found the latter sitting up in an easy-chair, as pale as
death itself.
"Won out, eh?" said Henshaw, weakly. "Good enough!"
"How do you feel now?" questioned Babcock.
"Oh, my stomach is better and the dizziness is gone. But I am as weak
as a rag."
Through an attendant Henshaw had heard of the arrival of Dave and
Babcock and of the progress of the great game. He was shocked to learn
that Phil had been seriously hurt.
"This will put a damper on the celebration," said he, and he was right.
Only a few cared to celebrate with Phil, for all they knew, lying at
death's door. The sufferer was still unconscious, and a messenger had
been sent off for another physician who was also a surgeon.
"This takes the edge off the victory," said Dave. "I'd rather lose than
have anybody seriously hurt."
"Morr, we are mighty sorry for this," said the captain of the Rockville
eleven, coming up. "I am sure you know it wasn't done intentionally."
"I know that," answered Roger. "But the play was pretty rough,
especially towards the end."
"It was a fair tackle," said the Rockville captain, and moved off.
Those from the military academy felt their defeat keenly. Just when
they had thought victory certain all their hopes had been dashed to the
ground. They had to admit that Oak Hall had played fairly from start to
finish.
"Boys, you did splendidly," said Dr. Clay. "The one dark spot is the
fact that Lawrence has been hurt. I sincerely trust it does not prove
serious."
While the doctor was doing what he could for Phil, the two schools were
entertained in royal style by Mr. Mongrace. But Dave and Roger could
eat little, their thoughts being constantly with Phil. Three others who
did not enjoy the feast were Plum, Poole, and Jasniff.
"Hang the luck, anyway!" growled the bully, as he and his cronies
walked away from the table. "Jasniff, this is the worst yet."
"Who would have thought that they could pull themselves together like
that," grumbled Jasniff. "Why, I never saw such work on any field. They
went at the play like demons--nothing could stand before them."
"Yes, and Phil Lawrence got a broken head for his pains," said Poole,
in a tone more of satisfaction than regret.
"I don't care a continental for Lawrence," pursued the bully of Oak
Hall. "What I am thinking of is the money I have lost."
"And the money I've lost, too," added Poole.
"Well, we'll have to pocket our losses, that's all," answered Jasniff.
"With Porter, Babcock, and Henshaw off the list I thought we'd make a
sure thing of it--but we didn't, and there you are."
"I don't know what I am going to do about the money I put up," said Gus
Plum.
"Write to your old man for some," suggested Jasniff. "Tell him you lost
your money, but don't say how."
"He won't let me have any more just yet--said so in his last letter."
"How about you, Nat?"
"My old man won't give up a cent until next allowance day, and that's
two weeks off. I'll have to live on air till then."
A little later Poole was called away by one of the students, and Gus
Plum and Nick Jasniff were left to themselves. Plum was in a quandary,
for he had borrowed from several parties and now did not know how to
pay the amounts back. Jasniff noticed his uneasiness.
"Don't take the loss so hard, Gus," he said. "Let us go off and have a
smoke--it will settle your nerves. If we were in town we might get a
drink. But we can't get it around here."
"Let's go back to the Hall, I am sick of it here," answered the bully
of the school; and a few minutes later he and Jasniff started off,
leaving Poole behind, in the company of several girls who had driven in
to witness the football match. Poole always dressed very fastidiously,
and sought the company of the girls whenever the opportunity offered.
Halfway to Oak Hall, Plum and Jasniff determined to ride on their
wheels to Hampton, a small village south of Oakdale. Here they put up
at the tavern, and Jasniff spent his last twenty cents for some liquor.
Then they sat down in the back room, to smoke cigarettes and talk over
their future plans.
"It don't feel nice to be dead-broke," said Jasniff. "Wouldn't you
like to earn a little pile, Gus?"
"How?" questioned the bully eagerly.
"Oh,--I don't know exactly," drawled Jasniff, looking up at the
ceiling. "But it might be done, you know."
"Well, I've got to get money somehow," answered Plum, desperately. "I
am not going around without a cent in my pocket, and in debt, too."
"Will you stand by me if I show you a way to get a little pile?" asked
Jasniff, lowering his voice.
"Yes, I will," answered Plum, boldly.
"All right, then; I'll let you know what I can do in a few days. I've
got to consult somebody else first, though."