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Updated: June 7, 2025
"Yes, I think you would need some help," he sneered, feeling in his veins the rush of red blood, the determination in his heart that had a few years back carried him through eighty yards of struggling Yale football players to a touchdown. The Senator's son drew back his arm, but the confident look of the New Yorker restrained him. "Mr.
Their line tightened up at the critical places, and their right halfback, Oldsmith, proved himself to be a very dangerous person, likely to circle the ends, and break up the game at any stage. Soon another drive was started on the part of Harmony, seemingly determined not to be denied the touchdown so urgently needed. Sheer weight carried Chester back, as it seemed, helplessly.
He knew his danger, but, to do him justice, he scarcely gave it a thought any possible suffering seemed as remote and inconsiderable just then as the chance of a broken leg or collar-bone had been to him when running for a touchdown in his football days; the one idea that filled his brain was to return to Mabel triumphant with the rescued dog in his arms, and he had room for no others.
"Oh, you Andy Blair!" "It's a touchdown!" "Yale wins!" "Yale! Yale! Yale!" Some one started the "Boola" song, and it was roared out mightily. Then came the locomotive cheer. Slowly Andy got up from behind the Harvard goal line. The other player who had tackled him, but too late, himself arose.
Amid such yells as were seldom heard on the gridiron, Frank, accompanied by Shadduck, whose interfering services were no longer needed, touched the ball down exactly in the middle of the line, behind the two posts, while the straggling Clifford players straggled madly down the field, but too late. Behind them came their leaping, dancing and exulting opponents. "Touchdown! Touchdown!"
He crumpled them up and carried the fragments of the broken line on his head and shoulders, coming at last to the ground five yards over the goal for the touchdown. And the Blue stands promptly went stark raving mad. Bruised and dizzy but smiling, Bert rose to his feet. At that moment he would not have changed places with an emperor.
Marvin, seeing what was bound to happen, fearing the result of a blocked kick, snatched the ball aside just as Captain Brownell swung at it, rolled over a couple of times out of the path of the oncoming opponents, scrambled to his feet and, somehow, scuttled past a half-dozen defenders of the goal and fell over the line for a touchdown.
Dillon went 105 yards down the field, running like the wind, and crossed the Harvard goal for a touchdown, and then they saw that he had the ball. And where do you think it had been all the time? Tucked up the back of his jersey. It had been enlarged especially for that purpose before the game began, and the first chance they had they worked the trick.
Once there was a chance for Elmwood to make another touchdown, but Jack Fitch slipped and fell in a mud-puddle, the ball rolling out of his hands. Then a Holwell played grabbed it, and kicked it out of danger on the next line-up. "Only a few minutes more," called the coach encouragingly, as the fourth quarter neared a close. "Hold 'em, boys!" And hold Tom and his chums did.
Even such a small incident as that evoked a howl of delight from the Ridgley stands, for such was the reputation of Jefferson that there were those who fearfully expected to see the wearer of the purple dash through the whole Ridgley team and score a touchdown at the first effort. The cheer leader ordered the short Ridgley yell for the team and the stand responded with a hoarse roar.
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