CHAPTER IX
A HARD FOUGHT FIRST HALF
Although there might be changes at any time during the progress ofa fiercely contested game, the line-up at the start was asfollows:
_COLUMBIA._
Comfort. _F.B._
Allen, Captain. West. _R.H.B. L.H.B._
Wallace. _Q.B._
Shadduck. Oakes. Harper. Bird. Daly. Eastwick. Morris. _R.E. R.T. R.G. Center. L.G. L.T. L.E._
_CLIFFORD._
Evans. McQuirk. Roe. Gentle. Ross. Adkins. Smith. _L.E. L.T. L.G. Center. R.G. R.T. R.E._
Style. _Q.B._
Coots. Wentworth. _L.H.B. R.H.B._
Hastings, Captain. _F.B._
Clifford was to kick off.
Hastings, the big captain, stood there, poising himself for theeffort, and every eye was glued upon his really fine figure. Hastingsknew it, and purposely lingered just a trifle longer than he wouldhave done had there been no mass of spectators hedging in the fieldon all sides in a solid bank of humanity.
There was a shrill whistle, the referee's signal, and it calledinto life the twenty-two motionless figures that stood about thefield. Big Hastings ran forward, glancing sharply about to seethat his men were on the alert, and the next moment his shoe madea great dent in the side of the new yellow ball. Away it sailedinto the air, far over toward Columbia's territory.
Straight toward Lanky Wallace, the plucky little quarter-back, itcame, and Wallace was right under it. Into his arms, with aresounding "pung!" the spheroid landed, and, like a flash, thequarter passed it to Jack Comfort for a return kick.
Comfort's toe found the pigskin as if his shoe belonged there, andback through space went the twisting oval, in a long spiral curve,while the cohorts of both teams loosed the yells that had beenlong on tap.
"Oh, wow!"
"Pretty work!"
"That's the stuff, old man!"
"Fine footwork!"
These cries of encouragement to both sides were soon lost in theriot of cheers and appeals to the teams to "go in and win!"
Big Hastings once more had the ball, and booted down the fieldwith a tremendous, smashing kick. Lanky and Oakes ran to get underit, with good intentions, but with misdirected energy, andcollided forcefully, while the ball bounced from Lanky's shoulderand rolled along the ground, a prize for whoever could first get it.
"A miss!"
"By jove, our fellows have lost the ball!"
"Get to it, Columbia!"
Exclamations of dismay, and frantic appeals came from a thousandthroats. Like mad the whole twenty-two players darted for theyellow spheroid.
There was a mixup, a confused mass of struggling forms, anindiscriminate whirlwind of waving arms and legs, and then, afterthe frantic blowing of the referee's whistle, and when, slowly,player after player crawled off the heap, Frank emerged, somewhatbruised and dazed, but with the precious ball tucked under hisarm.
"Oh, good!"
"Fine, old man!"
"Columbia's ball!"
"Frank's got it, all right! That's the stuff. Did you see himslide right in front of Ross, their husky right guard, and coverit? Say, this is a little bit of all right--all right!" cried anenthusiastic follower of Columbia.
It was on Columbia's twenty-five yard line now, rather closer tothe goal than Captain Frank liked, but he resolved to get rightinto the play now, and called for the line-up. There was awhispered conference between Wallace and Allen, and then thequarter began calling the signal, emphasizing the first number. Athrill seemed to run through the Clifford players, and when PaulBird snapped back the ball to the captain, instead of to thequarter, who, all along, had acted as if he meant to take it,there was a sudden rush on the part of Clifford, but it was toolate.
They had prepared for a play around their left end, but Frankquickly passed the pigskin to Ralph West, the left half, whosprang forward on the jump, and tore through a hole made betweenthe unsuspecting right guard and tackle of Columbia's opponents.Through Ralph plowed, heaving and plunging his way, aided by asplendid interference, knocking aside Wentworth, the opposingright half, and struggling forward for a good gain.
"Oh, look at that, would you! Look! Look! He'll get a touchdown!"
"Touchdown nothing!" growled a disgusted Cliffordite, "What's thematter with our fellows, anyhow, to be fooled like that?"
"Guess they read our signals wrong!" retorted the admirer ofColumbia High, with a chuckle.
"Oh, wow! Look at that! Hastings nailed him that time!"
Ralph had gone down under a fierce tackle by the big opposingcaptain, but the plucky left half had made a good gain, and, as herose and held his hand on the ball until Bird came up to take it,there was an outburst of cheers that warmed his heart.
"Good work, old man!" whispered Frank, as he ran up. "We fooled'em that time!"
Herman Hooker led his gallant band of shouters in an impromptuwar-dance back of the grandstand, their frenzied shouts of joy atthe splendid play sounding loud above the other yells.
Then came quiet, while the players again lined up, and the callingof the signals could plainly be heard across the gridiron. It wasuseless for Clifford to listen, if, perchance, she had sneakinglyobtained a line on the play system of Columbia, for Lanky wasusing the changed code, and only he and his men knew it. Slowlyhe called off. It was an indication for Frank to take the ball, ona try around right end.
Back came the oval with a clean snap, and the next moment Frank,with it firmly tucked under his arm, was circling around Evans,while Oakes, Harper and Shadduck had gotten into play on the jump,and had successfully pocketed their opposing end tackle and guard.
Forward leaped Frank, with Shadduck and Oakes forming splendidinterference for him. Down the line they sprinted, while once morethe frenzied shouts broke forth:
"Touchdown! Touchdown!"
"Go it, old man! Go it!"
It began to look as if Frank would score, for big Hastings was theonly man available to tackle him, as the other two backs hadplayed in so far that they were now hopelessly in the mixup oftangled figures.
"Go on! Go on!"
"Yes he will! Wait until Hastings tackles him!" this from aboastful Clifford player.
Hastings was waiting for the man with the ball, but Frank wasrunning behind Shadduck and Oakes now, and they were on the alert.Hastings made a dive between them, seeking to come at Frank, andfor one fearful moment there was fear in the hearts of his friendsthat the plucky right half would be downed. But Oakes fairly threwhimself at the big opposing captain, and the two went tumbling ina heap, thus ending any chance Hastings had of tackling the manwith the ball.
Amid such yells as were seldom heard on the gridiron, Frank,accompanied by Shadduck, whose interfering services were no longerneeded, touched the ball down exactly in the middle of the line,behind the two posts, while the straggling Clifford playersstraggled madly down the field, but too late. Behind them cametheir leaping, dancing and exulting opponents.
"Touchdown! Touchdown!"
"Oh, you, Allen!"
"Great work, old man! Great work!" And indeed it was a splendidrun.
Such shouting and yelling as there was! Herman Hooker and his bandof "Indians" were hoarse with their efforts thus early in thegame, but gallantly they kept at it. There was a little silencewhile the Clifford players lined up back of their goal posts, andthen Ralph West kicked goal, the ball sailing true between theposts, and making the score six to nothing in favor of Columbia.
"That's the stuff! That's going some! Keep it up, you ColumbiaTigers, we're all proud of you!" hoarsely called a big man,stamping about and waving his cane adorned with Columbia color
s.He had graduated from the old school twenty years before, and hehad never lost his love for it, nor for her sons of the gridiron.
There was an exchange of punts on the next kick-off, and when thatsort of playing was over, Clifford had the pigskin on Columbia'sthirty-yard line.
"Now, fellows, go through 'em!" grimly called Hastings, and Stylebegan to give the signals in a snappy voice. In another instantWentworth, the Clifford right half, hit the line with a tremendoussmash, going for a hole between Eastwick and Daly. Their matesrallied to their support, but there was smashing energy in theattack of Columbia's opponents, and hold as Frank and his playersdesperately tried to, they were shoved back, and Wentworth hadgained four yards.
"Another like that!" called Hastings. "Go to 'em, now! Eat 'emup!"
Once more a smashing attack, and three yards more were reeled offaround Shadduck's end.
"This won't do, fellows!" said Allen, seriously. "We've got tohold 'em!"
"How's that? Guess we're going some now, eh?" demanded a Cliffordadmirer, who sat next to Mr. Allen.
"Yes, you have a good team," was the answer. "But our boys areonly letting you do this for encouragement."
"Oh, ho! They are, eh? Just watch."
Indeed, it looked a little dubious for Columbia. Her players werebeing shoved back for loss with heart-stilling regularity. Therewas no need for Clifford to kick, and all of Frank's frantic appealsto his men to hold seemed of no avail.
There was somewhat of a bitter feeling when, after some tremendousline-smashing, Coots, the left half, was shoved over the line fora touchdown, and that gave the cohorts of Clifford a chance tobreak loose. They did not kick the goal, however, and that wassome encouragement for Columbia, since it left them one point tothe good.
Once more came the kick-off, and then, when Columbia had the ball,and had lined up, she went at her opponents with such smash-bangtactics, such hammer-and-tongs work, that she tore big gaps in thewall of defense, and shoved player after player through. Frank wassent over for a seven-yard gain, then came a fine run on the partof Ralph, netting eighteen yards, while the crowd went wild. Therewas grim silence on the part of the Clifford adherents as theline-up came on the ten-yard mark, and then, amid a great silence,Comfort smashed through for another touchdown.
"Oh, wow! How's that? Going some, I guess, yes!" howled the bigman, who had been a player in his youth. "Oh, pretty work!"
The goal was missed, for the ball had been touched down at a badangle, but the score was now eleven to five in favor of Columbia,and there were still several minutes of play left in the firsthalf.
There was only a chance for an exchange of kicks however, ere thereferee's whistle blew, signifying that time was up, and theplayers, who were just ready for a scrimmage, with the ball inClifford's possession on her opponent's fifteen-yard line,dissolved, and raced for their dressing rooms.
Boys of Columbia High on the Gridiron : or, the Struggle for the Silver Cup Page 9