liquely over Gridley's left flank and far
beyond.

Just a second before the ball itself started, little Fenton had
put himself in motion. By the time that the ball was in the air
Fenton was past Hallam's line and scorching down the field.

Now Forsythe and every Hallam man comprehended all in a flash.

Fenton had caught the ball with a nicety that brought wild whoops
from the Gridley boosters, now standing on their seats and waving
the Gridley colors.

"That little fellow looks like a streak of light," yelled one
Gridley booster.

The description wasn't a bad one. Fenton was doing some of the
finest sprinting conceivable. Before him nothing menaced but
big Harlowe, Hallam's fullback. Harlowe, however, was hurling
himself straight in the impetuous way of little Fenton.

It looked like a bump. There could be but one result. Fenton
would have to go down to save the ball.

Harlowe reached out to tackle.

Fenton came to a quivering stop, just out of reach. Then, almost
instantly, the little left end dashed straight forward again.

But the move had been enough to fool Harlowe. Of course, he assumed
that Fenton would spring to one side. Harlowe imagined that it
would be a dodge to the left, and Harlowe leaped there to tackle
his man.

But Fenton, actually going straight ahead, fooled the calculation
of his powerful adversary and got past on the clever trick.

Harlowe dashed after his sly opponent. But Fenton, still almost
with his first big breath in his lungs, was running as fast as
ever. A man of Harlowe's size was no one to send after a greased
mosquito like Fenton.

So nothing hindered. Amid the wildest, noisiest rooting, Fenton
stepped it over Hallam's now undefended goal line, reached down
and pressed the pigskin against the earth for a touchdown.

On the grand stand the noise was deafening. The whistle sounded
and the flushed players of both teams came back to range up for
the kick from field. Dave, his cheeks glowing, took the kick.
He sent a clean one that scored one more point for Gridley.

The cheering and the playing of the band still continued when
the two elevens again lined up for play during the last five minutes
of the game. The referee was obliged to signal to the leader
to stop his musicians.

Forsythe looked hot and weary. His expectation of an easy victory
had come to naught. Unless he and ten other Hallam boys could
work wonders in five minutes.

But they couldn't a