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The first fierce plunge of the tandem broke the Purple line in twain and the backs went through for three yards. Mason was hurt and the whistle shrilled. A cheer arose from the north stand and a youth running into the field from the side-line heard it with fast-beating heart. "Erskine! Erskine! Erskine! Rah-rah-rah, rah-rah-rah, rah-rah-rah! Fletcher! Fletcher! Fletcher!"
His meditations were interrupted by voices and footsteps outside the front door. He bolted the last morsel of bread and awaited the callers. These proved to be Paul and Sydney and Neil stared Tom Cowan. "Rah-rah-rah!" shouted Paul, slamming the door. "How are they coming, chum? Here's Burr and Cowan to make polite injuries after your inquiries I mean inquiries well, you know what I mean.
But a waiting Yates man, crouchingly running up the line, was successfully passed, and the trio bore farther infield, putting ten more precious yards behind them. The west stand was wild with exultant excitement, and Joel found himself speeding onward in time with the rhythmic sway of the deep "Rah-rah-rah!" that boomed across from the farther side. But the enemy was fast closing in about them.
And almost simultaneously the west stand arose and its voice arose to the sky in wild, frenzied shouts of: "Har-well, Har-well, Har-well, Rah-rah-rah, Rah-rah-rah, Rah-rah-rah, Har-well! Har-well! Har-well!"
"Out of the way there!" cried Joel's bearers, and the marching throng looked about, moved apart, and as Joel was borne through, cheered him to the echo, reaching eager hands toward him, crying words of commendation and praise into his buzzing ears. "Rah-rah-rah, Rah-rah-rah, Rah-rah-rah, March!"
Harwell! Rah-rah-rah, Rah-rah-rah, Rah-rah-rah, Harwell!" shrieked the crowd. "Louder! Louder!" commanded the remorseless youth on the baggage truck. "Nine long Harwells! One, two, three!" "Har-well! Har-well! Har-well! Har-well! Har-well! Har-well! Har-well! Har-well! Har-well!" The sound crashed up against the vaulted station roof and thundered back.
And all shook their heads and gazed bewildered through the rain to where a raised window-shade gave them occasional glimpses of "Fan" Livingston, a fine figure in dinner jacket and white shirt bosom, leading the cheering. "Rah-rah-rah, Rah-rah-rah, Rah-rah-rah, Fletcher!" The group under the awning turned puzzled looks upon each other. "Who's Fletcher?
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