ennington enthusiast.

Knapp, in order to escape all opponents, now skirted the edge of the
gridiron. He passed within a few feet of the Bartlett substitutes who
were wildly hoping that some one might down him.

Judd's quick eye saw only one man between Knapp and a touchdown. That
man was Cateye!

"Get that guy, Cateye!" bellowed Judd, making a megaphone of his hands.

In that frenzied moment, above the terrific din, Cateye heard and
recognized Judd's voice wafted out to him. The words seemed to give
him added zeal. He raced across the field toward the speeding Knapp.
The little quarterback, confronted with this new obstacle, turned in
sharply as Cateye lurched through the air, in order to avoid the
tackle. But Cateye had judged the distance too true and Knapp had
dodged too late. There was an impact as shoulder met thigh and a
crunching sound as the two rolled over and over upon the turf; then
mighty cheers.

"That-a-boy, Cateye!" barked Judd, joyously, while the Bartlett stands
echoed his name.

"Yea, Knapp!" thundered the Penningtonites.

Knapp's fine sixty yard run injected a world of pep into his team and
restored their confidence. The Bartlett eleven, on the contrary, was
badly disheartened and shaken up by the suddenness of the spectacular
run.

With the ball on Bartlett's twenty-five yard line and four plays to
make a touchdown the Pennington team assailed the Black and Gold line
viciously.

On the first play the ball went to Gordon, the heavy full back, who
plowed through the right side of Bartlett's line for eight yards.

"Wow! Nothing to it!" roared the Pennington stands.

"Hold 'em, Bartlett!" entreated the supporters of the Black and Gold.

An end run netted five more yards, placing the ball on the twelve yard
line. Gordon then took the pigskin, plunging straight through the
center of the line for four yards. The Bartlett eleven seemed wholly
unable to cope with the swift, varied, smashing attack of the visitors.
It was evident to the onlookers that Knapp's brilliant run at the start
of the game, coupled with Gordon's tremendous line bucking, had
completely bewildered the Bartlett team. It was the first time during
the entire season that any eleven had been able to gain consistently
through the line and this fact further discouraged the Black and Gold.

"Hold 'em, fellows!" begged Benz, from the backfield. "Don't let 'em
get a touchdown!"

The line stiffened and shifted to meet