mmond team upon him. Then came two
unsuccessful attempts to get through the center, followed by a
double-pass that barely gained the necessary five yards. Chub was busy
now and so were all the others on that side of the gridiron. Even Harry
joined her shrill voice, the while she waved her flag valiantly. Again
the Brown charged into the enemy's line, but this time her attack was
broken into fragments and Whitcomb was borne back for a loss of six
yards. A tandem on right-tackle failed to regain more than a yard of the
lost ground and Pryor, left half-back, fell back for the kick. It was a
poor attempt, the ball shooting almost straight into air. When it came
down the Hammond right-tackle found it, fought his way over two white
streaks and was finally pulled to earth on the forty-yard line. Then the
tide of battle turned with a vengeance. Back over the field went
Hammond, using her heavy backs in a tackle-tandem formation with telling
effect. The gains were short but frequent. The wings caught the worst of
the hammering, for at center Hammond found it impossible to gain,
although Jones, her much-heralded center-rush, was proving himself a
good match for Horace Burlen. Jack Rogers, at left-tackle, was a hard
proposition, but Fernald, beside him at left guard, was weak, and not a
few of the gains were on that side. On the other side Hadden at tackle
was playing high, and although Gallup was doing his best to break things
up, that wing gave badly before Hammond's fierce onslaught. The backs
saved the day time and again, bringing down the runner when almost clear
of the line. Hammond tried no tricks, but pinned her faith to straight
football, relying upon an exceptionally heavy and fast set of backs.
Down to Ferry Hill's twenty-five yards swept the line of battle, slowly,
irrevocably. There, Bacon shrieking his entreaties and Jack heartening
the men with slaps on backs and shoulders, the brown-clad line held
against the enemy and received the ball on downs.

Maybe Ferry Hill didn't leap and shout! Down the side-line raced Chub
and his companions, waving flags and awakening the echoes with
discordant, frenzied tootings on their horns. And Mr. Cobb, quietly
chewing a grass-blade, smiled once and heaved a sigh of relief.

The Brown's first attempt netted scarcely a yard. Her second, a
quarter-back run, came to an inglorious end, Bacon being nailed well
back of the line. Then, with six yards to gain on the third down, Pryor
once