CHAPTER XVI
THE GREAT FOOTBALL GAME
The halves were to be of twenty minutes each, so no time was lostin putting the leather into the field. It was Putnam's kick-off,and on the instant the ball went sailing into the air, to landwell into Pornell's territory. Then came a grand rush, and beforethe words can be put down twenty-two lads were at it nip-and-tuckto get possession of the sphere.
"It's Pornell's ball!"
"Say, but ain't this going to be a snappy game!"
"Our fellows have the ball!"
"There she goes up five yards into Putnam ground!"
"Carry that ball back!" yelled Dick excitedly. "Don't let themgain an inch!"
"Whoop her up for Pornell!"
And then came a wild blare of tin horns and a waving of theacademy colors, brown and white. The waving of the Hall colors,an American flag set in a border of green, came also, with anequal din from horns and wooden clappers.
"Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!"
So, the game went on for ten minutes, and the Pornellites hadgained exactly twenty-five yards--no more.
"Looks like a stand-off," said several. "Say, maybe those youngsoldiers aren't game!"
"That's what--but we'll wax 'em!" was the answer, and then of asudden came another yell, for Pornell had the ball and was pushingit straight ahead for Putnam's goal.
"Ten yards!"
"Five yards more!"
"Fifteen yards more!"
"Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!"
Toot! toot-a-root-toot! Clack-clack-clack, bang!
The Pornellites were now wild, but they stared blankly as they sawplucky Tom Rover snatch the leather up and run back twenty yardswith it.
"He's going right through with it!"
"There goes Hardy after him!"
"Down they go!"
"Lushear has the ball! It's going back!"
"Run, Lushear, run! A dollar if you make it!"
"They can't catch him! Oh, pshaw! Down he goes!"
"But the ball is safe! A touchdown! Hurrah!"
The cry was correct. Just three minutes before the end of thefirst half the Pornell team scored a touchdown. Instantlypreparations were made to kick a goal if possible. But the kickwas a failure, and the two sides retired for the half with thescore standing 4 to 0 in Pornell Academy's favor.
Glumly the Hall boys retired to their dressing room, there to berubbed down by their chums. "It's too bad, it certainly is," camefrom a dozen sympathizers.
"But it can't be helped. Don't give up yet."
"They are too heavy for us in mass play," said Sam. "We must trymore running away with the leather." And so it was agreed.
Soon the gong rang, and they re-entered the field.
"Now, Putnam Hall, do your best! We are looking at you!"
"They can't play a little bit," sneered Dan Baxter. "I'm ashamedof them," and he smiled to himself, thinking the fifty dollars putup on the game was already as good as won.
Sam had given his team some explicit instructions, and these werenow being followed. As soon as the ball came into Putnam'spossession there was a run on their part that carried the spheretwenty yards into their opponents territory.
"Go in and win, Putnam!"
"That's the way to do it!"
"Take it from them, Pornell! Go for it! Take it!"
And Pornell did take it, and half the distance gained was lost.
Both teams were now warmed up, and for fully five minutes the ballflew back and forth, remaining at the end of that time almost inthe center of the gridiron.
Then Pornell tried some heavy mass play, but lost the leather on afumble, and it came into Tom Rover's possession.
Away flew Tom, as though a legion of demons were after him,straight for Pornell's goal. The crowd began to shout itselfhoarse.
"See Tom Rover! Go it, Tom, old boy, go it!"
"He can't carry it through! See, Conkey and Largren are afterhim!"
"There he goes down! Conkey has the leather!"
This was true, but ere Conkey could start to run Fred Garrisonbrought him to earth and the ball rolled out into the field.
Sam and a Pornell halfback made a rush for it.
"My ball!" yelled the Pornellite, who was twenty pounds heavierthan the little captain.
"Not today!" retorted Sam, and snatched it from under his veryfeet. Before the Pornellite could recover from his astonishment,Sam was pelting up the field with all the nimbleness of his agilelegs.
"Hurrah for Sam Rover!"
"Great Caesar! see him leg it! They can't catch him!"
"There he goes over the line!"
"A touchdown! The game is a tie!"
"Quick, fellows!" cried Sam. "Only five more minutes, remember.Who is to kick?"
It was a player named Larcom. But Larcom was not equal to it, forthe wind was rising and blowing in several directions at once.
"No goal! The game is a tie!"
"Put the ball out again!"
"Only four minutes to play!"
Again the football went forth, and again the crowd pounced upon it.The Pornellites were now desperate and massed themselves as neverbefore. They pushed forward ten yards--fifteen--twenty--almostthirty. It looked as if they would score another touchdown, if notkick a goal. But now Sam Rover sent a certain sign to his players. Itwas taking a risk, but it was worth trying.
The ball came over to the right of the field and spun likelightning to the left. Fred caught it up, ran ten yards, andpassed it to Larry Colby, who turned it over to Tom. Away itwent to Sam, and then to Frank. The Pornellites were bewildered.Where was the ball?
"Putnam has it!"
"There she goes! Hurrah for Frank Harrington. Anothertouchdown!"
It was true. Putnam Hall had scored another touchdown. Atremendous yelling and cheering broke out, in the midst of whichthe gong sounded. The game was over, and our boys had won thevictory.
In a twinkle the gridiron was covered with swarming students, andSam and his fellow players were hoisted up on willing shoulders,to be trotted around the oval. "Hurrah for Pornell!" theyshouted. "Hurrah for Putnam!" came back the cry. It had been abitter but friendly contest, and victors and vanquished shookhands over and over again.
Of course many students of Pornell were bitterly disappointed, butno one felt so sour over the whole afternoon's doing as did DanBaxter. In all he had lost over fifty dollars, and now neitherhis fellow students nor the boys of Pornell Academy wantedanything to do with him. "I haven't any use for a chap who betsagainst his own crowd," was the comment of one academy student,and he voiced the sentiment of all. Only Mumps stuck to his chum,and the two soon left the grounds together.
By four o'clock the cadets were on their way back to Putnam Hall,the carriages moving behind the two companies of young soldiers,who sang and shouted themselves hoarse as they moved along. EvenCaptain Putnam entered into the spirit of the affair. "Brings meback to the days when I was a cadet myself," he said to GeorgeStrong.
Directly after supper a huge bonfire was lit on the playground,and the students were allowed to have their own fun until eleveno'clock. The football team was, of course, the center ofattraction, and Sam and Tom came in for their full share ofhonors.
While the festivities of this Thanksgiving Eve were at theirheight, a sudden thought struck Dick. Captain Putnam had giventhe cadets permission to go beyond bounds if any cared to do so,and he hurried away, his intention being to call upon DoraStanhope and see how she was faring. Although Dick would notadmit it, he thought a great deal of Dora, and he was sorry thatshe was in danger of having the detestable Josiah Crabtree for astepfather.
It was a clear, moonlight night, and he hurried off in the best ofspirits, taking a short cut by way of a road through the woods.As he walked along he remembered how Tom had met in this vicinitythe thief who had stolen the watch.
"I wonder if I'll meet him," he thought, but no tramp put in anappearance; indeed, he did not see a soul unti
l the Stanhopehomestead was reached.
A light was burning brightly in the sitting room, and the curtainswere drawn down to within six inches of the bottom of the windows.Dick was about to ascend the porch, when he changed his mind andwalked softly to one of the windows.
"If they have a lot of company I won't disturb them on a holidaylike this," he thought, and peeped under one of the curtains.
The sight that met his gaze filled him with astonishment andindignation. Only two persons were present, Dora and JosiahCrabtree. Crabtree had the girl by the left wrist, and had onehand raised as if to strike his prisoner.