ut lost the pigskin, and amid frantic cries of "Ball!
Ball!" Fletcher, Hillton's left half, dropped upon it. The crimson
banners waved again, and Hillton voices once more took up the refrain of
Hilltonians, while hope surged back into loyal hearts.

"Five minutes to play," said Professor Beck. Gardiner nodded.

"Time enough to win in," he answered.

Decker crouched again, chanted his signal, and the Hillton full plunged
at the blue-clad line. But only a yard resulted.

"_Signal_!" cried the quarter. "_8--51--16--5_!"

The ball came back into his waiting hands, was thrown at a short pass
to the left half, and, with right half showing the way and full-back
charging along beside, Fletcher cleared the line through a wide gap
outside of St. Eustace's right tackle and sped down the field while the
Hillton supporters leaped to their feet and shrieked wildly. The
full-back met the St. Eustace right half, and the two were left behind
on the turf. Beside Fletcher, a little in advance, ran the Hillton
captain and right half-back, Paul Gale. Between them and the goal, now
forty yards away, only the St. Eustace quarter remained, but behind them
came pounding footsteps that sounded dangerous.

Gardiner, followed by the professor and a little army of privileged
spectators, raced along the line.

"He'll make it," muttered the head coach. "They can't stop him!"

One line after another went under the feet of the two players. The
pursuit was falling behind. Twenty yards remained to be covered. Then
the waiting quarter-back, white-faced and desperate, was upon them. But
Gale was equal to the emergency.

"To the left!" he panted.

Fletcher obeyed with weary limbs and leaden feet, and without looking
knew that he was safe. Gale and the St. Eustace player went down
together, and in another moment Fletcher was lying, faint but happy,
over the line and back of the goal!

The stands emptied themselves on the instant of their triumphant burden
of shouting, cheering, singing Hilltonians, and the crimson banners
waved and fluttered on to the field. Hillton had escaped defeat!

But Fortune, now that she had turned her face toward the wearers of the
Crimson, had further gifts to bestow. And presently, when the wearied
and crestfallen opponents had lined themselves along the goal-line,
Decker held the ball amid a breathless silence, and Hillton's right end
sent it fair and true between the uprights: Hillton, 6; Opponents, 5.

The game,