ir opponents
fought back nobly, furiously, desperately, but to no avail. The "class"
was with the Blues, and as this fact was driven home to the spectators,
deep gloom settled over the Army stands, while from the opposite side
the old college song went booming down the field.

The Blues were bent on massacre. They charged hard and played fast. Dick
plunged through the line again and again like a battering ram for
tremendous gains. Tom did some dazzling running back of punts. Drake hit
the forwards hard and often, and Axtell tackled with deadly accuracy,
laying out his victims all over the field.

As for Bert at fullback, no such demon playing had been seen at West
Point for a generation. His handling of the forward pass was a delight
to the eye, and even the hostile stands were stirred at times to
involuntary applause. Twice he carried the ball over for a
touchdown--once by straight bucking and again by a spectacular run of
fifty-five yards through a broken field. The quarter ended with a result
of 15 to 0 in favor of the visitors.

From that time on, it was only a question of the size of the score. The
battle had become a rout. In the last quarter the ball was in the Army
territory all the time. There was no necessity now for tricks to further
befuddle the demoralized cadets. By "straight football" the Blues
pursued their victorious course down the field and added two more goals
before the game was called, with the ball on the fifteen yard line, and
destined, had the play continued two minutes longer, to make a final
touchdown. It was a dashing victory, gallantly won after an inauspicious
start. The weary players drew the first long breath they had permitted
themselves since the start of the game. The cadets, game as pebbles,
gave their conquerors the rousing Army cheer and the Blues responded
vigourously. The rival teams fraternized for a while and then the Blues
retired to their quarters to dress and make their "get-away."

Naturally, despite the immense fatigue that weighed them down, they were
tingling with exultation. It was the first time they had been pitted
against a really big team, and they had clearly outclassed them. The
contests with the smaller colleges had been little more than practice,
and in most cases the scrub could have won as certainly if not as
overwhelmingly as the 'Varsity. And the victory to-day had been won not
by a "fluke," but by clearcut playing. To be sure, the memory of the
first par