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Updated: May 23, 2025
The lines broke up and the two teams trotted away. The score-board proclaimed: Erskine 0, Opponents 6. Neil trotted along at the tail-end of the procession of substitutes, so deep in thought that he passed through the gate without knowing it, and only came to himself when he stumbled up the locker-house steps. He barked his shins and reached a conclusion at the same instant.
In the second inning both sides got men to bases, but neither side scored. In the third Lehigh took one solitary run, but it looked well on the score-board at the north end of the field. West Point, in the last half of the third, put men on first and second, but that was all. By the fourth inning, Kennedy was pitching a bit wildly. Maitland gazed at his comrade of the battery with anxious eyes.
The cheering from the Harwell seats was now continuous, and the refrain of "Glory, glory for the Crimson!" was repeated over and over. On the east stand the Yates supporters were neither hopeless nor silent. Their cheers were given with a will and encouraged their gallant warriors to renewed and ever more desperate defense. The score-board proclaimed the game almost done.
"Everything goes with them," he said. The referee's hand went down, Devoe stepped forward, the blue-clad line leaped into the field, and the ball sped upward. As it fell Neil turned to Stone and the two stared at each other in doubt. From both stands arose a confused roar. Then their eyes sought the score-board at the west end of the field and they groaned in unison.
A square of the grand stand blossomed suddenly with blue, and St. Eustace's supporters, already hoarse with cheering and singing, once more broke into triumphant applause. The score-board announced fifteen minutes to play, and the ball went to the blue-clad warriors on Hillton's forty-yard line. Hillton and St.
This time the defense worked better, and Robinson lost the half-yard of gain and another half-yard on top of that. "Six yards to gain," said the score-board. And the purple-decked stand voiced its triumph. Robinson wisely decided to yield possession of the ball and get away from such a dangerous locality. On the next play she punted and Paul was brought to earth on Robinson's fifty yards.
A figure with tattered purple sleeves near at hand leaped into the air, waving his arms wildly. On the stand across the field pandemonium broke loose. Neil closed his eyes. A moment later Simson found him there, sitting on the thirty-five-yard line, one arm hanging limply over his knee, his eyes closed, and his white face wreathed in smiles. Erskine 10, Opponents 6, said the score-board.
And now it was the blue that was in full retreat and the crimson that pursued. Nearer and nearer to the Yates goal line went the resisting besieged and the conquering besiegers, and the great black score-board announced but eight more minutes of the first half remaining. But even eight were three more than were needed.
In a twinkling he was trotting along the line, stretching his cramped legs and arms. As he passed the bench he tried to look unconcerned, but the row of kindly, grinning faces told him that his delight was common property. Paul silently applauded. Meanwhile the teams had again faced each other. Twelve minutes of play remained and the score-board said: Erskine 5, Opponents 6.
"One more," he thought, "one more!" The great stands were hoarse with shouting; for here ended the game. The figures on the score-board had changed since the last play, and now relentlessly proclaimed one minute left! Nearer and nearer crept the five-yard line, nearer and nearer crept the pursuing full-back.
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