Lorimer presented a hefty team that afternoon, one that outweighed Alton in the line and equaled her in the backfield. And it was a hard-fighting, aggressive and shifty team as well. It didn’t display a great variety of plays, but what it showed it knew remarkably well and used to advantage. Lorimer’s best ground-gainer was a sweep from kick formation, a play which started slowly enough but gathered momentum rapidly and, when it reached the line, had all the power of a war tank. The interference was well placed and effective, the runner being concealed until well past his end and after that nicely protected by a moving wall of players. All through the first half of the game, whenever Lorimer used that sweep she gained, sometimes many yards—especially when her full-back carried—and sometimes only a few. Toward the end of the second quarter it was less effective, since the secondary defense had learned to concentrate on the runner and pay no heed to the interference as long as the play went toward the side-line, but even up to the last it was good for some slight gain. Since Lorimer sent off passes, slid off tackle, plunged at the center and kicked from that one formation the visitor was kept busy guessing what was coming. And not infrequently she guessed wrong.

The first score came as a result of a fumble on the part of the home team’s quarter on Alton’s thirty-six yards. Billy Haines dived through on the pigskin and Jim Galvin, on the first play, romped clean through the Lorimer center for twelve yards. But Jim wasn’t able to repeat that stunt, and the ball went slowly to Lorimer’s forty-one and a first down, Jim and Nip Storer alternating on the tackles. Then Alton tried a sweep herself and, while the play lacked the finish of the enemy’s performance, Pete Ness swung through for seven yards. Pete made four more and first down again on a criss-cross outside tackle. Lorimer braced at her thirty-yard line and two downs went for less than that many yards. Storer went back to kicking position, but he tossed the ball over the line to Joe Tate who, although downed where he had caught, added four yards. Nip Storer tried to put the ball over on a drop-kick, but it went short and rolled over the line. Lorimer kicked high and Ted Ball made a fair catch on the enemy’s forty-seven. Ted carried the ball sixteen yards on a wide end run and Jim Galvin hit the line twice and reached the twenty-five yards. With four to go on third down, Ted passed to Nip and Nip hurled twenty yards to Chick. But Chick failed to quite get into position and the ball grounded. On the next attempt, standing just inside the thirty-five-yard line, Nip put the ball over the cross-bar.

There was no more scoring until just before the end of the half. Then Lorimer, who had twice plugged her way well into Alton territory, the first time to lose the ball on a fumble, found herself on the enemy’s twenty-eight on first down. That sweep play netted a scant three yards and placed the pigskin close to a side-line. A four yard smash straight through Captain Lowe followed. Then, with three yards to go, Lorimer prepared for a placement kick. The angle was extreme and Alton warned against a fake. When the ball went back to the quarter that youth arose from the ground and passed across to a running end, and the end scampered off and around the Alton right for half the distance to the goal before Jim Galvin thumped him down. From the ten yards, although the Gray-and-Gold contested every foot of the ground, Lorimer pushed steadily forward, finally thrusting a back through on fourth down for a scant yard and the coveted touchdown. Goal was missed.

When play was resumed after the intermission there was but one change in either line-up, and that change was the substitution of Thomas for Dozier at left tackle on the Alton team. Other changes came, but they were few and occurred mostly in the final period, by which time it seemed fairly apparent that Alton was destined to be on the short end of a 9 to 6 score. Each team added a field-goal in the third quarter, Alton following Ted Ball’s forty-two-yard gallop to Lorimer’s twenty; Lorimer after she had pulled down Storer’s short punt in the center of the field and desperately worked down to the thirty-one. Lorimer’s placement goal from the forty-yard line was one of the few outstanding features of the game. To be sure the ball was directly in front of the goal, but even so forty yards is a long distance for an eighteen-year-old foot to accomplish, and after their first instant of consternation some two hundred Alton supporters applauded generously. Another outstanding feature of the contest was seen some two minutes before play ended and was hailed with far less acclaim by the visitors.

Mr. Cade had begun to relieve the more wearied of his players, and the line-up showed half a dozen new faces. Captain Jonas, however, was still in, and so were the first-string ends, Joe Tate and Chick. Lorimer, too, had introduced fresh material, even more lavishly, and Alton, after receiving a punt on her thirty-nine yards, was trying desperately to tie or win. Fitz Savell twice worked himself loose for short runs and Couch, who had taken Galvin’s place, ripped a hole in the left of the enemy line and romped through for eight yards before he was smothered. Keys failed to gain from the Lorimer forty-three, and Couch faked a forward and then tried the Lorimer left and gathered in almost enough to win a first down. Savell added the necessary yard and then, on the subsequent effort, once more shook off the enemy and reached Lorimer’s twenty-two. There the enemy stiffened and, after two unsuccessful attempts by Couch and Keys, and with the sands of time running low, Couch went back to kicking position. He wasn’t much of a goal kicker, and, although he was standing inside the thirty yards, those in the Alton section of the stand, even while they shouted hoarsely for victory, had little hope of a score. What they did hope was that, since this was only third down, Couch or some one else would try a forward-pass before risking all on a kick. And, lo, that is just what Couch did try.

Taking the pigskin on a pass from center, he retreated to the right, poising the ball in a generous hand, and, at the last instant of safety hurled it down the field to where Chick lurked unnoticed of the defenders. The throw was well-nigh perfect and covered all of twenty-five yards, and Chick had only to step back a pace to get it, and, having got it, need only leap across a scant ten yards to turn defeat into victory. Alton started her pÆan of triumph while the pigskin still spun lazily in its flight, while Lorimer visioned defeat and sought desperately to reach the unguarded receiver. Chick had his heroic moment then, poised steady and confident in the path of the ball. Doubtless every faculty was alert, every nerve tense. And yet success slipped through his fingers or bounded out of them! The watchers would have sworn that he had the ball safe, that he had turned to run, and yet in the next instant the ball was a free agent, arching maliciously beyond his frantic clutching! It struck the ground, went bobbing across the side-line, and some two hundred mouths, vocal a second before, remained open but empty of sound!

And from somewhere half-way up the stand came a familiar voice in tones audible on the gridiron. “You’ve got to hold it, Chick,” called Tommy Parish, “or it’ll get away from you! Guess nobody told you that!”

Couch made a hopeless try at a goal from the thirty yards, failed miserably and the ball went to Lorimer. There was no more.

Bert, who in spite of bright expectations, had viewed the game through from the substitute’s bench, went dejectedly toward the dressing room. Every one was unusually silent. He was careful not to look around lest he encounter Chick’s eyes. He wasn’t ready to look at Chick yet. He wanted to show sympathy when he did look, and just now he was too disgusted and downhearted.

Going back to Alton wasn’t as bad as Bert had feared it would be. By common consent the game was avoided as a matter for present conversation. Mr. Cade appeared unaffected by the recent defeat and talked unconcernedly with Coles Wistar much of the way home regarding arrangements for the next trip away, a fortnight distant. After Lorimer had been left well behind the spirits of the fellows lightened and one even heard laughter, although it wasn’t very hearty yet. Chick’s attitude surprised and perplexed Bert. Bert thought that if he had been the one who had fumbled that pass he would be trying to hide under a seat. Chick, however, seemed to have forgotten the incident entirely and was in and out of the conversation about him as cheerfully as any. Perhaps there were others in the bus who considered Chick’s manner unusual, but Bert could see no indication of it. Well, he did surprise Captain Jonas once in a long and contemplative regard of Chick, but Jonas’s countenance conveyed no emotion. Of course there was no use in crying over spilled milk, reflected Bert, and perhaps a fellow was wise not to let misfortune prey on his mind, but, just the same, he felt that Chick was overdoing the composure.

Even after they were alone in Number 21 Chick’s nonchalant air continued. Bert was glad that they were obliged to hurry over to supper, for he was beginning to experience intense exasperation and was certain that if he remained alone with Chick very long he would say something offensive. Not a few of the students were still absent from dining hall when Bert followed Chick over to the training table, and the former was eager to credit the lack of hand-clapping to that fact. None of the players got much applause that evening, although Captain Jonas and Lum Patten, entering late, received fair acclaim. Mr. Cade was not in his place at the head of the table and Andy Dozier said he had taken a taxi and hustled over to the Junction to get an early train home.

“Wish I could,” sighed Hop Meecham. “We have baked beans and fish-balls at our house Sunday mornings; and flannel cakes and syrup, too, generally.” Hop’s countenance assumed a look of intense longing.

“Know what I think?” asked Nip Storer, sinking his voice. “I think Johnny’s got a girl! I was in his room two or three days ago and there’s a whacking big picture of a dame on his mantel that wasn’t there last year. I’ll bet he’s going to get married, fellows!”

The theory aroused interest at that end of the long table. “Sure as shooting!” said Ted Ball. “That’s why he’s going to quit, eh?”

“If he is,” doubted Billy Haines. “Me, I think that’s just bunk.”

“Well, I don’t. You hear it everywhere. Say, what’s the girl look like, Nip?”

“Some queen, kid! Sort of proud-looking, you know, like one of those movie dames.”

“Don’t know that I’d be very keen about hitching up with Johnny if I was a girl,” said Dozier. “Bet you he will make her toe the mark.”

“Take the bet,” scoffed Ted. “She’ll gentle him in a week! Say, I had a cousin who was a major in the World War and got four decorations and citations and things and was a holy terror over there. Killed ’em single-handed or lugged ’em in over his shoulder, a couple at a time. Some boy he was! Well, what happened to him four years ago? Why, he met a girl who just reached up to the place where he parked his medals and married her. Some one went by their place about two months after they got settled and blamed if the Major wasn’t out in the back-yard beating a carpet!”

“‘The bigger they are the harder they fall,’” chuckled Nip. “Say, Johnny will be a regular find when it comes to house cleaning. With that bristle head of his his wife can clean every rug in the house. And when it comes to getting the soot out of the stovepipes!”

“Aw, shut up,” growled Billy Haines. “He isn’t going to get married and he isn’t going to quit. Bet you that picture’s his sister.”

“Oh, sure,” jeered Nip, “a fellow always puts his sister’s photo in a ten-dollar frame and sticks it on the mantel, doesn’t he? Yes, he does—like fun! Sis gets chucked in the bottom drawer somewhere!”

“You tell ’em, you Sunday Sheik,” said Meecham. “Your knowledge of such matters, Nip, makes me fairly shudder!”

Nip threatened him with a salt-cellar, and, encountering the interested regard of Mr. Metcalfe, from a near-by table, sprinkled his slice of toast and apple-butter lavishly before setting the cellar down.

Bert lost track of Chick after supper. He thought he knew where he was to be found, but he didn’t seek him. Instead, he dropped into Bus Lovell’s room and later accompanied Bus and four other youths to a moving picture theater on the far side of town. The picture was pretty bad, but they managed to have plenty of fun.

On Sunday a verse of alleged poetry was going the rounds. Tommy Parish was credited with the authorship, but he refused to acknowledge it. I grieve to say that Bert saw it first in church when, during the sermon, Toby Shelfer slipped him a piece of paper on which was scrawled: “Seen this? Read it and pass it on.

The papers that morning announced that at Lakeville Kenly Hall had yesterday defeated Mount Millard, 25 to 7. Details were few, but they weren’t needed at Alton to persuade the fellows that this looked like another big year—for Kenly!