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A prince! He was a prince; he, Max Scharfenstein, cow-boy, quarter-back, trooper, doctor, was a prince! If it was a dream, he was going to box the ears of the bell-boy who woke him up. But it wasn't a dream; he knew it wasn't. The girl yonder didn't dissolve into mist and disappear; she was living, living.
That was Gridley's specialty for this game, one long planned and worked for. Quarter-back Winters again got the ball. With a handsome forward pass he made it Thompson's, and it went to the enemy's seven-yard line. "Question -four!" appealed Cheer-Master Prescott, through the megaphone. Back from twenty boys on the home stand came the heavy query: "Where's Cobber? Where's Cobber?"
"You've got the elephants going at last." "Rush 'em!" "A touchdown saves us!" Dan's face was flushed, Dave's white and set as the line again formed for the next play. Quarter-back Joyce held up his head, watching the field like a mouse seeking escape. Then came the emergency signal: "Nine fourteen twenty-two three!"
As Dean seemed to be in the act of hurling to his captain, Teeny-bits won through to an open space; suddenly the quarter-back shifted and shot the ball, bullet-straight, into the hands of the half-back.
Time would fail me to tell of all the events of that afternoon how Wright carried the ball within a dozen yards of our opponents' goal; how their forwards passed the ball one to another, and got a "touch-down" behind our line, but missed the kick; how Naylor ran twenty yards with one of our men hanging on his back; how our quarter-back sent the ball nearly over their goal with as neat a drop-kick as ever it has been my lot to witness.
"Third down, four yards to gain!" The referee trotted out of the scrimmage line and blew his whistle; the Hillton quarter-back crouched again behind the big center; the other backs scurried to their places as though for a kick. "9 6 12!" called quarter huskily. "Get through!" shrieked the St. Eustace captain. "Block this kick!"
In the school yard Silvey darted up to him. "Oh, John-e-e-e!" "Yes," said John, not greatly enthusiastic over the hail. "It's open practice at the university today. Red and me are going. It'll be the biggest game, next Saturday, and, Jiminy, you ought to watch the quarter-back kick! Come along?" John shook his head regretfully.
"I think," said Manager Black to Quarter-back Marvin as they met at the entrance to the gymnasium, "I'll take a walnut sundae." What Quarter-back Marvin replied to Manager Black was both impolite and forceful. What annoyed Brimfield Academy most about that beating was the fact that Morgan's School was a stranger.
Later on another dash of humour was supplied when Carmine poised the ball for a forward pass only to discover that no one of his side was in position to take it. The quarter-back shouted imploringly, running back and across the field, dodging two or three of the enemy and by some miracle holding the ball out of harm's way all the while.
"It was four or five years ago and we were young kids, but I remember that Norris was gritty as the dickens; he used to play quarter-back then; of course he's developed a lot since those days."
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