amely off the field and around the
corner of the stand to the little weather-beaten shed which served for
dressing room. And the blue-clad team trotted joyfully down to their
stage, and there, behind the canvas protections were rubbed down and
plastered up, and slapped on the back by their delighted coach
and trainer.

In the Hillton quarters life was less cheerful during the ten minutes of
intermission. After the fellows had rubbed and redressed, Remsen talked
for a minute or two. There was no scolding, and no signs of either
disappointment or discouragement. But he cautioned the team against
carelessness, predicted a tied score at the end of fifteen minutes, and
called for three-times-three for Hillton, which was given with reviving
enthusiasm. A moment later the team trotted back to the field.

"Touch her down,
Touch her down,
Touch her down again!
H-I-double-L-T-O-N!"

chanted the wearers of the crimson; and--"St. Eustace! St. Eustace! St.
Eustace!" shouted the visitors as they waved their bright blue banners
in air. The whistle piped merrily, the ball took its flight, and it was
now or never for old Hillton!

Stephen Remsen joined the string of substitutes and found a seat on the
big gray blanket which held Browne and Clausen. From there he followed
the progress of the game.

Outwardly he was as happy and contented, as cool and disinterested, as
one of the goal posts. Inwardly he was railing against the fate that had
deprived Hillton of both the players who, had they been in the team,
could have saved the crimson from defeat. Wesley Blair joined him, and
with scarce a word they watched St. Eustace revert to her previous
tactics, and tear great gaping holes in the Hillton line, holes often
large enough to admit of a coach and four, and more than large enough to
allow Allen or Jansen to go tearing, galloping through, with the ball
safe clutched, for three, five? or even a dozen yards!

No line can long stand such treatment, and, while the
one-hundred-and-fifty-pound Greer still held out, Barnard, the big
right-guard, was already showing signs of distress. St. Eustace's next
play was a small wedge on tackle, and although Barnard threw himself
with all his remaining strength into the breach he was tossed aside like
a bag of feathers and through went the right and left half-backs,
followed by full with the ball, and pushed onward by left-end and
quarter. When down was called the ball was