Nothing could have been more appropriate for exciting athletic affairs than the name which had been given to this high school in honor of a distinguished public servant, interested in education. It scarcely needs to be explained that the football team of Lyon High was called the lions, on and off the gridiron, or that posters and the school paper carried fierce-looking drawings and cartoons of the King of Beasts in action. A golden yellow, relieved by black, in the costumes of the Lyon High band and in the sweaters of the team was supposed to suggest the tawny coat of what could “eat up” any other team in short order. Lions figured largely in various badges and insignia of all sorts. Betty Lee had early decided that she must some day wear one of the pins or rings that bore the “Lyon High Lion.”

Oh, it was good to stow away books in the freshman lockers and hurry with the rest of the big crowd to find seats in the stadium, seats where one could see everything!

The girls lost little time at their lockers. “Come on, Betty,” called Carolyn. “I’ve got some newspapers to sit on. Yes, I should say bring your coat! Your sweater won’t be enough. I promised Mother to wear a coat and wouldn’t have needed to promise, either. I don’t care to freeze myself.”

This was not the first game. That had been duly played in the home stadium, not so long after Carolyn’s garden party, and Betty had felt all the thrills of seeing the great stadium come to life for the first time in her experience. After this big school, college could not bring her more! Yet thrills could be repeated. Never would this place become so accustomed, Betty was sure, that she would not have them. Then, this was the GREAT GAME. It was the one between the two largest high schools of the city and was an annual occurrence, long heralded, the great game for which the teams prepared. There had been a lively meeting in the auditorium beforehand, that very morning. The championship was at stake! “Oh,” said Betty, “I don’t see how I can stand it if the Lions don’t beat!”

“Don’t suggest such a thing,” Peggy called back. “Of course we’ll beat!”

There was a large crowd, parents and friends included, as well as many alumni of the high school, who were interested enough and loyal enough to see at least this one chief contest every year. But Carolyn, Betty and Peggy, with some of the other girls, were among the first among those dismissed from the last Friday classes. Their season tickets were punched at the stadium entrance before the stadium was appreciably filled.

“We’ve a grand choice, girls. Hurry!” Carolyn tripped rapidly down the steps in the lead.

“Down there, back of those boys, Carolyn!” called Peggy, who knew as well as Carolyn the “strategic point” that they wanted to reach if no one were ahead of them in securing it. “First come, first served here, you know, Betty,” Peggy added, hopping from one high step to another in a short cut.

Carolyn was spreading newspapers and holding them to keep them from being blown away in the slight breeze. “Sit on ’em in a hurry,” she laughingly urged, and settled herself on the further one, next to two of the teachers, who were spreading out a steamer rug. “Sensible girl,” said one, smiling down at Carolyn. “Is your coat warm enough?”

“Yes, Miss Heath, and we have on our sweaters beside. Peggy and I nearly froze at the University stadium last week, so we bundled up this time. Did you see the game with State, Miss Heath?”

“Indeed I did.”

“Good for you,” chuckled Carolyn. “You like athletics, don’t you?”

“Very much–when some one else does it.”

“But you wouldn’t have time,” suggested Carolyn. This was the Miss Heath whom all the girls liked so much, girls of any rank from freshmen to seniors. She was always fair, though you had to work for her. No “getting by” with poorly prepared lessons.

“No,” assented the adorable Miss Heath, “I’d have no time, not even for setting up exercises.” She looked at her teacher friend, a lady from the rival school, and laughed. “What do you think, Carolyn, would it be polite for me to sing with you our school songs or do any rooting for Lyon High when my friend from our rivals’ school is sitting right by me? By the way, Miss March, this is Carolyn Gwynne, one of our freshmen. You know the Gwynne place, out on Marsden Road?”

“Oh, yes, quite well. How do you do, Carolyn. I think I have met you at your home. I belong to a club that met there last year.”

Carolyn said the appropriate remarks in reply and was fortunately not obliged to decide what was the polite course for Miss Heath to follow. So far as she was concerned, no scruples would have prevented her enthusiasm for Lyon High, for the good reason that Carolyn forgot everything but the game when the contest was on.

Peggy, and Betty, too, third in order from the teachers, leaned around Carolyn to bow in friendly and respectful fashion, but at once they gave their attention to the crowd and the field. On the track a few runners were practicing, their costume looking very cool for the chilly fall breezes. A few boys were standing about on the field or central “gridiron.”

Betty filled her lungs with the fresh air that was not blowing too sharply. She was accustomed to the curving concrete that rose high behind her and stretched to right and left, to the field before her and to the gymnastic or athletic performances that had seemed so queer at first because of the larger numbers and the better equipment. By this time, too, she knew the team, its best members and what they were likely to do, though in the confusion of the game it was sometimes hard for her to recognize a play.

As the game was with a city school today, there were as many or almost as many rooters for the visiting team as Lyon High itself could offer. As the seats filled rapidly, competition between rooters began. Rival bands with tooting horns and rolling drums made a dramatic appearance, paraded, and finally took position. Rival yell leaders led rival cheer, though Lyon High, trained by its athletic director to good sportsmanship, gave a complimentary yell or two for its guests, using their own battle cries or merely giving hearty rah-rahs for the rival school and team.

Then the pandemonium was at its height when the teams ran out upon the field and the excited youngsters on the stadium seats rose and shouted their greetings. Betty stood and waved and gave the yells with the rest. She might not have been long in Lyon High, but she was a part of it now! It was her school! There! That was Freddy Fisher, upon whose plays so much depended. There went that mysterious tall boy that somebody said came from Switzerland and somebody else said was a Russian. My, but he was an active chap! He was almost as good as Freddy, Chet Dorrance had told Betty, but he didn’t always understand the signals and occasionally the team was penalized for something that he did either accidentally or on purpose. “He’s a hot one when he’s mad,” said Chet, “and I guess he still thinks in his own language, whatever that is, though he likes to play and learn all the new signals pretty quick, the coach says.”

“Peggy, there is your hero,” laughed Carolyn.

“Who?” inquired Peggy.

“The ‘Don.’”

“Oh, yes. I did say that he deserved as much glory as Freddy for that last game, didn’t I? He gave such fine interference.”

“The ‘Don’?” inquired Betty, puzzled.

“They have him Spanish now, Betty. He’s been Russian, German, Hungarian and I don’t know what all and I think the boys like to tease us girls by making up something new about him all the time. But isn’t he sort of handsome?”

“I’d hate to say, Peggy, if you like his looks,” countered Betty.

“Betty likes them fixed up and awfully clean, like Ted Dorrance, Peggy,” mischievously said Carolyn.

Betty flushed a little, but smiled. “I have a brother, girls. He’s better now, but time was when Dick would just as lief never wash from ‘early morn till dewy eve’ as Father used to say. ‘Aw, what was the use of washing before breakfast when you had to wash right after it?’” Betty gave a comical imitation of Dick’s tones.

“So after assisting in rounding up Dick to be washed and being embarrassed more than once by his grimy looks, it’s no wonder if I like ’em clean at least. But I suppose I went through that time of hating to be washed myself.”

“I doubt it, Betty,” answered Carolyn. “I think you are always dainty, if you ask me.”

But now the time of the contest was at hand. More excitement and cheers called for the attention of the rooters to duty. They yelled for their own teams now, under the frantic leadership of active yell-leaders. The Lions’ little mascot, arrayed in his mask of a lion’s head and a suit as tawny as the coat of the biggest lion in the “Zoo,” ran up and down, waving large paws and trailing a long tasseled tail.

“Lions, rah!

Rah-rah-rah-rah, Lions!

Eeney, meeney, money mi,

Lions win when they half try--

Eeney meeney money mi,

Chew’em-up! Chew’em-up! Lions”

(Roar)

The influence of the living models at the Zoological Gardens, on whose fearsome roars many of these high school pupils had been, figuratively speaking, brought up, made this characteristic roar, with which many of Lyon High yells closed, very realistic. It had been with a mixture of startled surprise, amusement and admiration that Betty, Doris and Dick had first heard it that fall. But now even Amy Lou tried to imitate it.

“Hickity, rickity, spickity jig!

Zippity soom and lickity rig!

The Lions are loose,

Get out of the way!

They’ll romp to the finish.

And Capture the Day Gr-rr-rr--LIONS”

Another favorite yell was both prefaced and ended with a student roar from the Lyon High part of the stadium. It was short and vigorous:

“Lions! Lions!

And they’re not tame!

Go it, Lions,

And win that game!”

Some unexplained delay gave time for a brief rendering of a short high school song. “Make it peppy!” called the leader, “one stanza and a yell for the team!”

This closed the preliminaries and in a tense stillness on the part of the spectators the game began. From the first it was exciting, for the teams were well matched. “Now let the Lions Roar,” was balanced by “Now let the Eagles Scream,” in several good plays by each in the first quarter.

The Eagles kicked off but lost their advantage almost at once. For a little the struggle resulted in little gain for either side. A trick kick failed. Line plays gained little. Both teams resorted to punting and the Lions gained some yardage. Betty, Carolyn and Peggy shared some tense moments when the Eagles’ quarterback made a good ran of thirty-five yards before he was pulled down by Peggy’s new hero, the “Don,” who came in for much cheering from Lyon High rooters.

“Oh,” said Peggy, sitting back weakly, “I thought he was going to make a touchdown! How did he get away?”

“I don’t know,” answered Carolyn, “but he’s a smart player, the best they have. He’s Bess Pickett’s brother, you know.”

“He ought to be somebody, then,” replied Peggy. “What a pity he doesn’t go to Lyon!”

“We don’t need him,” proudly said Carolyn. “Wait and see Freddy Fisher wiggle and twist out of–” but Carolyn did not finish her sentence for interest in what was going on. She was, however, a true prophetess, for as the quarter was drawing near its end, their Freddy caught an Eagles’ punt on his own ten-yard line and raced through the entire Eagles’ team for a touchdown, almost caught several times, while the excited spectators stood and shouted.

“Get-that-man! Catch him! Catch him!” called the Eagles.

“Look out, Freddy! Go it! Get there!” shouted the Lyon High rooters. “A touchdown Freddy! Atta-boy!”

The Lyon High band struck up a victorious strain, while Freddy, once more the conquering hero, lay upon his ball to get his breath.

During the second quarter there was no scoring. The Eagles were determined to prevent further scoring by the Lions and risked little punting. They were able, however, to spoil any fine little plans of the Lions. Betty, who could not remember sometimes the various positions of the players, though she could note their work, watched the vigorous tackling and the opening struggles of the plays and found it necessary to make an effort not to become too worked up over the contest. But the Lions must win this time! They had barely won over the Eagles the year before, but the championship was not at stake then for an outside team had developed into one that had beaten both Eagles and Lions, and the Eagles had lost one other game.

Time out saw some of the boys going out to the side lines and as they returned, Ted Dorrance saw a vacant seat just below where our three girls sat and vaulted into it. “Hello!” said he. “This is a better place than I had before. Anybody rented it?”

“Not that I know of,” laughed Carolyn. “Some freshman we don’t know or some outsider sat there, I guess.”

“He’s lost out now,” said Ted. “How are you ladies enjoying the game?” Ted looked up at Betty as he spoke.

“It is a wonderful game,” sighed Betty, “but I can’t feel easy about our beating yet!”

Ted laughed, drew a package of peppermint “life savers” from his pocket and handed it up toward the feminine fingers. “Perhaps these will do you some good,” said he. “As to feeling easy, nobody does, though some would say so. But take it from me, girls, and keep it under your hat, something is going to happen.”

“Oh, tell us, Ted!” exclaimed Peggy.

Ted shook his head in the negative. “Official secret. I happened to get hold of it. Sh-sh!”

Betty, with both dimples showing this time, for she really had two, exchanged an amused glance with the merry Ted, who now whirled around as several boys returned to take seats beside him, and one, looking up from below to see no room there, hopped into another vacancy lower down.

“You’ll not have to fight for your seat, Ted,” remarked Carolyn. “Aren’t you seniors proud of Freddy?”

“Yeah. But I wish this was a game where the coach could put in a few substitutes. However, the other team is as bad off.”

As he spoke, the attention of all centered on the gridiron once more; but Betty was handing Ted the little package of “life savers,” and as he took it, he leaned back to whisper near her ear as she stooped, “Watch the Don!”

Inquiring eyes met Ted’s with interest. He nodded. “Do as I said,” he said jokingly, as he, too, turned to give his full attention to the field.

Betty wondered. The “Don” was noted for his good interference. Were they going to let him do something else? Anyhow she would watch him, as Ted directed. How nice it was of Ted to tell her! But Carolyn had given her an amused glance just after Ted had turned away. She must be careful or those ridiculous girls would keep on teasing her. Not that she cared.

Very conservative, indeed, were the plays of the third quarter. Very watchful were both teams. But the Eagles must score if possible, of course, since the only score had been made by the Lions. Hard they fought. Alas–the Lions were penalized for some breach of the rules by Don, nothing serious, Ted said, just some little regulation about “time”!

“That old heathen!” exclaimed Ted, looking back at Betty, who wanted to ask Ted if this were what she was to watch Don for. “But just wait. We’ll show them!”

Next in excitement came a fifteen-yard holding penalty imposed on the Eagles. But as if in desperation, toward the last part of the quarter, a forward pass by the Eagles was successful, and Jim Pickett, clearing all interference, made a seventy-five-yard run and a touchdown.

“Now hear the Eagle scream!” exclaimed Ted. “What’s the matter with our team that they let Jim get away with that? But it was a pretty run. Jehoshaphat, we’re even now! No–they’ve lost the kick! Hooray, we’re one ahead!”

Ted was either talking to himself or to the boys around him, but the girls followed his boyish discourse with interest. And the next calamity was even worse. In the next play one of the fiercest Lions was hurt. They walked him off, but one arm hung limp and Ted, who again rushed away to find out the damage, returned with the information that “Skimp’s arm was broken!”

“Oh, will that let them beat us, do you think?” asked Betty, leaning forward.

“Not necessarily,” replied Ted, “but it’s a big loss,” and Ted looked a little grim. “Besides that, Freddy’s twisted his ankle, mind you!”

“But we mustn’t give up, Betty,” urged Carolyn. “We have to root all the harder to encourage the team!”

What had become of the play Don was to make, Betty wondered–if that was what Ted had meant?

The play of the third quarter, interrupted by much time out, went on to the finish, the Lions discouraged and not doing their best, Ted said. The Eagles made apparently easy gains and took every advantage, until after a rapid advance toward their goal and in the last few minutes of the quarter Jim Pickett made another touchdown by catching the ball punted to his position and running free to the goal. In the excitement the final point to be gained by the kick was again lost. But now the Eagles’ score stood ahead! Where were the brave Lions?

“Well,” said Carolyn, “now comes the tug of war. It’s the last quarter and everybody is tired out, and Freddy is limping off the field and it doesn’t look so good!”

“Never say die, Carolyn,” Peggy cheerfully put in. “The boys aren’t going to lose the championship without a fight!”

Ted had disappeared again. The Eagles were having a snake dance and their band was parading, the forty pieces blaring triumphantly. “My, they do play well,” said Betty. “It’s grand that the high schools are big enough to have such music!”

“I can’t say that I appreciate the Eagles’ band right now, Betty,” said Peggy, “and you won’t either, when you’ve been here a little longer.”

A gleam of hope seemed to arrive with bright Ted, who came jumping up to his seat just below the girls and smiled as he sat down. “We’ll lick ’em yet, girls,” he cried. “Freddy is resting a little and getting his ankle bound up, and he’s going to play all right. They’ve a pretty good substitute for Skimp; at least I think that Bunty will play a good game. So all is not lost. Cheer up!”

The Eagles’ heroes were just as glad for a short rest as Freddy or any of the weary Lions. Recumbent forms lay about the field, presumably drawing strength from Mother Earth. Then, as the immense audience began to grow restless over delay, heads were bent together, in conference over coming plays, and the formation was made, while encouraging though brief cheers came from the rooters. After all the singing, cheering and rooting in every known way and the expenditure of considerable energy and enthusiasm, the band, the cheer leaders and the occupants of the seats in the stadium were tired enough to long for the close of the game. Yet tensity marked the opening of the quarter.

“Let’s go,” suggested one of the teachers next to the girls. Carolyn looked around in surprise, to see if it could be Miss Heath, usually so loyal to the Lions. But possibly with the teacher from the other school she rather hated to see the finish.

But no, it was not Miss Heath who had suggested going. “If you like, certainly,” she was saying, “though it may be a little difficult to get through the crowd.”

“That is so,” replied the other, “but I think the game is practically over. Your big runner is injured and I scarcely think that the Lions can do much, with the substitute that they have for that other boy. I saw him play once before and he lost advantage once by fumbling when he might have done something.”

“Oh, can’t we ‘do much’!” said Carolyn, in a voice low enough not to be heard by Miss Heath or her friend. “She thinks she’s so sure of the Eagles!”

Peggy and Betty grinned back at Carolyn, but settled themselves to watch the fray.

Again the struggle was on. Good! Freddy Fisher was running about as actively as ever, watched by the Eagles. Twice the ball was given to him, but although he did not appear to be lame as he ran, he could make little headway before he was downed. The Eagles “screamed” again, rooting loudly, and hoarse encouragement came from the ranks of the Lyon High rooters. “Atta-boy! Freddy, rah! Fight, fight, fight, fight!”

Then came the surprise. Betty had forgotten to follow Ted’s advice in regard to watch “Don.”

Who had the ball this time? Betty was as surprised as any one to see “Don” with the ball, freeing himself from immediate interference and starting off. Oh, could he do it!

The surprised Eagles pounded after the mysterious foreigner while from the Eagles’ rooters cries of “get that man! Get that man!” were wildly repeated.

Betty’s heart was in her mouth. “What did I tell you!” Ted was shouting to the boy next him, as the Lion rooters stood up in a body and cheered. “Run for it, Don! Watch out for Matt! Look out there, Don! Hooray, they didn’t get you that time!” In these and like phrases, the boys in front of Betty and others expressed their feelings, while the lad on his way was trying to escape his enemies, all too ready to recover from their surprise and take measures to stop him.

Betty’s view was unimpeded. Now a tackler launched himself at Don. Oh! Don stumbled a little! No, he got away and the tackle clutched the air. “He’s free! he’s free!” cried Carolyn, jumping up and down.

Gaining a little on the pursuit, running with more confidence, the “Don” sped down the long path toward the goal, the ball held tightly. Cheers arose and the fierce roar of Lyon High in rejoicing followed the running lad. A few Eagles still followed–but Don had escaped! The “mysterious” player was to divide honors with Freddy in the championship game and equal the number of yards won by the Eagles’ quarterback, Jim Pickett.

“He’s made it! He’s made it!” shouted Ted, embracing the boy next to him, as Don completed his spectacular play and won his touchdown. “Girls–what did I tell you, Betty! Now watch the Lions do a snake dance!”

The Lions’ second touchdown put them ahead and after that there was nothing but grim effort, defence, blocking and wary play on both sides until the quarter ended. The Eagles, indeed, tried one or two desperate chances in the hope of scoring, but the Lions, with equal determination, blocked their every attempt, while an almost silent stadium of spectators watched closely every play.

Miss Heath was behind her friend as they climbed the steps of the stadium, but happening to pass Betty and Carolyn, she gave Carolyn a meaning smile and reached for Betty’s hand to give it a squeeze.

“She can’t say anything, to gloat over our victory, of course,” said Carolyn, “but I can’t help be mean enough to be gladder because that other teacher was so sure we were defeated!”

“What about the Don now, Betty?” asked Peggy. “If he isn’t so ‘slick’ as some of the boys in dressing up, he was ‘slick’ in winning the game for us, wasn’t he?”

“Oh, the Don’s all right!” said Betty. And just then she felt a hand at her elbow. It was Ted, who thus boosted her up a few steps, telling her that the plan was to make “them” feel secure and then “spring Don.” “So long, girls–good game, wasn’t it?” Ted finally inquired, leaping up the rest of the way and again joining the boys.

A tired but happy Betty clung to the straps of the crowded street car on the way home. Doris was riding home in an automobile, with the little daughter of a neighbor, but Dick grinned at Betty from the far end of the car and joined her when they left it at their corner.

“Say, did you ever see a fellow as heavy as that foreign fellow looks run like that? But he isn’t quite as slippery as Freddy. They might have caught him if they hadn’t been so surprised. What became of Doris? I didn’t see her there at all. I hope she didn’t miss it.”

“No; Marie’s folks were there, with her and Marie, and I saw Doris getting into their car while we were waiting for the street car.”

“Just to think! We’re the champions of the scholastic what-you-call it. Didn’t I yell, though at the last shot, when the last quarter was over and the game ours!”