slinks shamefacedly into the
crowd.

"It is not often Hamish forgets himself in yon fashion," says his
mother, shaking her head. "He must be sorely tried indeed," she adds
confidently.

"I am quite sure of it," replies Helen. "He always comes out smiling."
And the old lady looks at her approvingly a moment, and says, "Indeed,
and you are right, lassie."

In a few minutes The Don is as fit as ever, and slapping Shock on the
back says pleasantly, "Come, along, old fire-eater. We've got to win
this game yet," and Shock goes off with him, still looking much ashamed.

McGill kicks from the twenty-five line, but before the scrimmage that
follows is over time is called, with an even score.

The crowd streams on the field tumultuously enthusiastic over a game
such as has never been seen on that campus. Both sides are eager to go
on, and it is arranged that the time be extended half an hour.

Old Black gets Campbell aside and urges, "Take ten minutes off and get
your men into quarters." Campbell takes his advice and the rubbers get
vigorously to work at legs and loins, rubbing, sponging, slapping,
until the men declare themselves fresh as ever.

"Not hurt, Don?" inquires Campbell anxiously.

"Not a bit," says The Don. "It didn't bother me at all. I was winded,
you see, before I fell."

"Well," says Campbell, "we're going to give you a chance now. There's
only one thing to do, men. Rush 'em. They play best in attack, and our
defence is safe enough. What do you say, Black?"

"I entirely agree. But begin steady. I should use your whole half back
line, however, for a while. They will lay for Balfour there."

"That's right," says the captain. "Begin steady and pass to Martin and
McLaren for the first while, and then everyone give The Don a chance."

"And Shock," calls out little Brown, "don't be a fool, and stop
fighting," at which everybody roars except Shock himself, who, ashamed
of his recent display of temper, hurries off to the field.

Once more the campus is cleared. Battered and bloody as to features,
torn and dishevelled as to attire, but all eager and resolved, the
teams again line up, knowing well that they have before them a half
hour such as they have never yet faced in all their football career.

It is 'Varsity's kick. Campbell takes it carefully, and places it in
touch well within the McGill twenty-five. After the throw in, the teams
settle down to scrimmage as steady as at the first, with this
differe