rry I am Tom, for the trouble I made
you."

"Never mind," answered our hero. "It's all right."

"Tom's pluck and luck won for him," said Jack, and Tom was the hero of
the school, for Doctor Meredith publicly commended the youth for his
action, and Mr. Appleby was fair enough to beg Tom's pardon before the
whole school.

"But we've got to have a new quarterback," said the perplexed football
captain as the time approached for the last big game--that for the
championship.

"Yes," admitted the coach. "Better a new one than that sneak Sam
Heller. I'm glad he's gone. Is Tom's ankle fit for him to play?"

"He says he'll play, anyhow!"

"Good for him. Well, I guess we can make a shift."

The football game was one long to be remembered. It was played on a
cold, crisp day, and a record-breaking crowd was in attendance. For
the first three quarters neither side scored. There were brilliant
runs, sensational kicks and tackles, brilliant passing, and good plays
generally, but the teams seemed too evenly matched.

Then came the last quarter. Foot by foot the ball had been worked to
within striking distance of the rival's goal.

"Now, boys, a touchdown!" cried the captain.

Smith, the new quarterback, gave the signal for Tom to take the pigskin
through center, and Tom, with lowered head and fiercely beating heart,
leaped forward. There was a crash as the two lines of players met, and
then, struggling forward, tearing himself loose from restraining
hands--pushed, shoved and all but torn apart, Tom forced his way onward.

His vision became black! His breath was all but gone, and then, with a
last mighty heave, he shoved the ball over the last line.

"Touchdown! Touchdown!"

"Tom Fairfield's touchdown!"

"Elmwood Hall forever!"

"Three cheers!"

"Three cheers for Tom Fairfield!"

The players and spectators went wild, and the game came to an end a few
minutes later, with Tom's team the champions.

"Well, old man, we did 'em," said Jack some hours later, when the
chums, and as many of their friends as possibly could crowd into the
room of our heroes, had gathered there. "We did 'em."

"Good and proper," added Bert.

"How's the ankle, Tom?" asked the captain anxiously. "We don't want to
permanently cripple you, for there'll be more games next year."

"Oh, I guess I'll be all right by then," said Tom, with a smile.
"Jack, pass those sandwiches," for an impromptu banquet was under way.

"Yes, and don