kick now," murmured Andy, and the signal came.

Then it was the Yale ends showed their fleetness and they nailed the
Harvard man before he had gained much. An exchange of punts followed,
both teams having good kickers that year.

Then came more line smashing, in which Yale gained a little. It was a
fiercely fought game, so fierce that before five minutes of play Harvard
had to take one man out, and Yale lost two, from injuries that could not
be patched up on the field.

"I've got a chance! I've got a chance!" exulted Andy.

But it was not rejoicing at the other fellows' misfortunes. Unless you
have played football you can not understand Andy's real feelings.

The first quarter ended with neither side making a score, and there was
a consultation on both teams during the little breathing spell.

"We've got to do more line plunging," thought Andy, and he was right,
for Yale began that sort of a game when the whistle blew again. The
wisdom of it was apparent, for at once the ball began to go down toward
Harvard's goal, once Yale got possession of the pigskin after an
exchange of kicks.

"That's the way! That's the way!" yelled Andy. "Touchdown! Touchdown!"

This was being yelled all over the Yale stands. But it was not to be.
After some magnificent playing, and bucking that tore the Harvard line
apart again and again, time for the half was called, Yale having the
ball on Harvard's eight-yard line. Another play might have taken it
over.

But both teams had been forced to call on more substitutes, and Harvard
lost her best punter. Yale suffered, too, in the withdrawal of Michaels,
a star end.

The third quarter had not been long under way when, following a
scrimmage, a knot of Yale players gathered about a prostrate figure.

"Who is it? Who is it?" was asked on all sides.

"Brooks--right half!" was the despondent answer. "This cooks our goose!"

"Blair--Blair!" cried the coach. "Get in there! Rip 'em up!"

A mist swam before Andy's eyes. Some one fairly pulled him from the
bench, and his sweater was ripped off him, one sleeve tearing out. But
what did it matter--he had a chance to play!

"We've got to buck their line!" the freshman captain whispered in his
ear. "They're weak there, and we dare not kick too much. Our ends can't
get down fast enough. I'm going to send you through for all you're
worth."

"All right!" gasped Andy. His mouth was dry--his throat parched.

"Steady there! Steady!" warned the coach