ing and show 'em football! Every man into this and _make it go_!
Hall over! Signals!" Hall pushed his way to the left of the line.
Claflin shuffled to meet the change. "Signals! 83--38--11--106!"

"_Signals!_" cried St. Clair. Carmine turned on him, snarling. "Use your
bean! Change signals! Hall over! 61--16--11--37! 61--16--11----"

Back shot the ball to the quarter. Off sped St. Clair around his end,
followed by Rollins. Carmine crouched, back to the line, while he
counted five. Then Tim Otis shot forward, took the delayed pass, jammed
the ball against his stomach and went in past Thursby on the right.

Tim struck the line as if shot out of a gun. There was no hole there,
but Tim made one. If the secondary defence, overanxious, had not been
fooled by that fake attack at their end Tim would never have gained a
foot. But as it was Claflin was caught napping in the centre of her
line. Tim banged against a brawny guard, Carmine, following him through,
added impetus, the Claflin line buckled inward! Shouts and grunts,
stifled groans of despair from the yielding blue line! Then Brimfield
closed in behind Tim and he was borne off his feet and on and over to
fall at last in a chaos of struggling bodies well across the goal line!

The ball went over to the right of the goal and Carmine decided on a
punt-out. Unfortunately, Thayer juggled the catch and so Brimfield lost
her try-at-goal. But six points looked pretty big just then and
continued to look big all the rest of the half and during the succeeding
intermission. Brimfield's supporters were confident and happy. They sang
and cheered and laughed, and the sun, sinking behind the wooded ridge,
cast long golden beams on the flaunting maroon banners.

And then the teams came trotting back once more and cheers thundered
forth from opposing stands. Howard had taken St. Clair's place, it was
seen, and Claflin had replaced her right guard. But otherwise the teams
were unchanged. Brimfield kicked off and Claflin brought her supporters
to their feet by running the ball back all the way to the
forty-five-yard line. That was Cox, the fleet-footed and elusive, and
the Blue's left half got a mighty cheer from his friends and generous
applause from the enemy. After that Claflin tried a forward pass and
gained another down, and then, from near the middle of the field,
marched down to Brimfield's thirty-three before she was stopped. The
Maroon-and-Grey got the ball on downs by an inch or