the material on hand. The old Blue spirit
that never knows when it is licked was there too. The game was on our
grounds and although the 'Greys' had an immense delegation in their
stands, we outnumbered and outyelled them. Say, maybe we didn't give the
boys a send-off when they trotted through the gates and began passing
and falling on the ball in practice. If we felt any doubts, that yell
didn't show it.

"From the time the ball was kicked off it was a fight for blood. And you
can imagine whether we fellows went crazy when we saw that our team was
winning. We got off to a flying start, and, instead of having to defend
our own goal, we took the offensive and kept the ball in the enemy's
territory most of the time. We scored a goal from the field, and
although the 'Greys' fought desperately, we seemed to have their number.

"It was the same in the second half. We downed them when they tried to
rush us, blocked when they kicked, and stopped them in their attempt to
skirt the ends. It was near the end of the last half, and there was only
five minutes left to play. It looked as though it were 'all over but
the shouting,' and you can bet that we were doing enough of that. The
Blue stands were a good imitation of a lunatic asylum.

"But here Fate took a hand, and two minutes later we wanted to die. The
ball was in our hands, halfway down the field. As we had already made
one score, while the 'Greys' had nothing, all we had to do was to play
safe and the game was ours.

"Peters, our captain, was a splendid fellow and a 'dead game sport.' It
seemed to him a little like 'babying' to fritter away the few minutes
remaining in safety play. The more generous instinct prevailed, and he
'took a chance.' He shot the ball back to the quarter. He in turn passed
it to the back, who got in a perfect kick that sent it far down the
field and close to the enemy's goal. One of the 'Greys' made a grab at
it, but it was one of those twisting deceptive punts and bounded out of
his hands down toward the southern line. One of his mates was just
behind him and, quick as lightning, he caught the ball on the bound,
tucked it under his arm and scooted down the field toward our goal line.

"Our forwards of course had run down under the kick and had got past the
ball, expecting to pick it up when they saw that it had been muffed. So
the 'Grey' runner was well past them before they could stop their
momentum and turn in their tracks. The back who had k