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If Blossom had secured a lead equal to Merriwell's he would have made third easily. As it was, the catcher snapped the ball down with a short-arm throw, and Blossom was caught by a foot. Then it was Harvard's turn, and the Cambridge lads made the most of it. A great roar went up, and the crimson seemed to be fluttering everywhere. "Har-vard! Har-vard! Har-vard! 'Rah! 'rah! 'rah! 'Rah! 'rah! 'rah!
And it came. "Har-vard! Har-vard! Har-vard! Rah, rah, rah! Rah, rah, rah! Rah, rah, rah! The Turkey! The Turkey! The Turkey!" Then we went home. I suppose this isn't much of a story, especially as there is no climax; and I've taken enough English to know that there ought to be some sort of a climax somewhere. Maybe, though, what happened next day will serve for one.
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