Just three minutes before the end of the
first half the Pornell team scored a touchdown. Instantly
preparations were made to kick a goal if possible. But the kick
was a failure, and the two sides retired for the half with the
score standing 4 to 0 in Pornell Academy's favor.
Glumly the Hall boys retired to their dressing room, there to be
rubbed down by their chums. "It's too bad, it certainly is," came
from a dozen sympathizers.
"But it can't be helped. Don't give up yet."
"They are too heavy for us in mass play," said Sam. "We must try
more running away with the leather." And so it was agreed.
Soon the gong rang, and they re-entered the field.
"Now, Putnam Hall, do your best! We are looking at you!"
"They can't play a little bit," sneered Dan Baxter. "I'm ashamed
of them," and he smiled to himself, thinking the fifty dollars put
up on the game was already as good as won.
Sam had given his team some explicit instructions, and these were
now being followed. As soon as the ball came into Putnam's
possession there was a run on their part that carried the sphere
twenty yards into their opponents territory.
"Go in and win, Putnam!"
"That's the way to do it!"
"Take it from them, Pornell! Go for it! Take it!"
And Pornell did take it, and half the distance gained was lost.
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