  Striving like mad Captain Martin and his ten followers tried to rush the fighting, so as to get another touchdown before the referee called the game; for that would fill them with joy, since it meant the score would be reversed and stand at 12 to 9. Just as bent on preventing such a calamity Jack and the Chester boys braced themselves to out-maneuver all attempts looking at a successful run. At times their line proved a veritable "stone wall" to the heavy Harmony halfbacks, who were dragged to earth before completing their intended long runs. Still there was a constant gain, with the ball still Harmony's. That one bitter fumble seemed to have stiffened their game wonderfully, for it was not repeated. Time was passing, but, so, too, was Harmony creeping up. One good run now was likely to wind up the game, for Chester could never hope to retrieve such a misfortune. Visiting rooters were frenzied, and every little forward movement on the part of their team was greeted with a burst of yelling that sounded almost like the discharge of a cannon, it came so suddenly, and died out again as quickly. Oldsmith was the dangerous man, Jack well knew. Somehow he felt certain that to him had been delegated the task of carrying the ball through, and putting it over for the needed touchdown. Several times Harmony might have tried for a field goal, and the fact that they declined to accept this chance told Jack what was in the wind. They were a greedy lot. A goal from field would have netted them just 3 and tied the score, but it would also have injured their chance for making a touchdown within the prescribed time; and Harmony meant to either win that game, or lose it, with no halfway measure as a tie to carry home with them. Well, Jack Winters was a good guesser, for just as he decided it fell to the Harmony halfback to make the attempt. The bluff was dazzling, and deceived nearly all the Chester players, so that it looked as though Oldsmith with the pigskin oval in his grip would have a clear field to the coveted place in the line where he could drop for a touchdown, and victory. But he counted without the fleet Winters, who was after him like a shot, and determined to make his tackle before Oldsmith could cross. This of course was the real crisis of the entire game; it was win or lose for a certainty, because not a half minute of time remained, and a new attempt could not be made if this one proved futile. Faster than the wind the two players tore along. There was no other opposition offered to Oldsmith. Indeed, the rest of the field almost stopped play, to watch the result of this duel of speed. Oldsmith was a shade heavier than Jack. He had also been engaged in more scrimmages latterly, and might have been a bit short of breath. Such things count heavily against a player in football work, and they certainly did in this case; for it could be plainly seen that the Chester captain was overtaking the possessor of the ball, despite his most frantic efforts to keep his own ground. Could he reach the line before being dragged down? Jack seemed inspired to abnormal efforts, as though he knew how those whom he loved were watching, and hoping, and feeling confidence in him. Once before in the game with Marshall he had been called upon to win for his team by a supreme effort; that time it was in the way of offense, whereas now it seemed to be along the line of defense. But no matter, one was just as important under certain conditions as the other. Jack overtook his man, and made a beautiful tackle, bringing Oldsmith to the ground just in time to prevent him from scoring his touchdown. It was a thrilling moment when this occurred. The vast crowd remained silent for a second, as though hardly able to grasp the truth that Harmony had shot her last bolt and lost. Then came the din of cheers that soared to the very clouds, it seemed, such was their intensity. Confusion reigned, with a whirling mass of Chester boys dancing around and hugging each other, while the faithful girl rooters broke out into frantic shrieks, waving their beloved school colors in riotous profusion. Of course Harmony tried to rally in the brief space of time yet remaining, but by now the Chester team was sure of its ground, and backed Captain Winters up handsomely; so that when presently the referee blew his whistle nothing had been accomplished. So the great Thanksgiving game ended in favor of Chester. It would be the last battle on the gridiron for that season, as is customary. The boys gave Harmony a salvo of cheers to try to take some of the bitterness of the sting of defeat away, but doubtless Captain Martin and his squad felt pretty sore to be beaten at the hands of these newcomers in the game. Martin was man enough, however, to shake hands cordially with Jack, and tell him that he certainly had a clever team back of him. Of course, like most Harmony fellows, he believed the hard knocks of the game had gone against their side, and that if the "luck" had been more evenly distributed they would surely have won; but then all that sort of talk invariably follows when a team wends its way back home after getting "licked." There seems to be some sort of consolation about figuring out just what share luck had in bringing about disaster. There was no mad celebration that night, as on the occasion of the victory over Marshall. The town authorities had forbidden a single bonfire to be started in the streets of the town. That burning of the Adkins home must serve as a lesson, through which they should profit. Instead, a banquet was arranged for an a succeeding evening, by some of the friends and admirers of the football team, which all the boys, substitutes as well as regulars, should be invited to attend, and at which speeches would be in order. There would also be a little statement from the head of the financial committee connected with the gymnasium then building, telling just what progress had been made, and how every dollar of the expected expense had been guaranteed, thanks mainly to the generosity of their esteemed fellow citizen, Mr. Philip Adkins. Chester was now well started on her career of outdoor sports. Other towns less fortunate envied her the possession of that splendid gymnasium where, during the long winter evenings, basket-ball could be played, and all sorts of athletics indulged in under a competent instructor. There could be no doubt that it would prove of inestimable benefit to the growing lads, not only serving to keep them off the street corners at night, but also enable them to strengthen their bodies, and enjoy fellowship with their mates under uplifting conditions. Big Bob carried out his scheme as mentioned to Jack and on the very morning after Thanksgiving he took pains to let the other know the result. His father had heard the whole story with deepest interest, and then told Bob that he was very glad such a thing happened, since it had really been the means of taking the scales from both their eyes, and allowing them properly to appreciate one another. Bob assured Jack that his father was a different man nowadays, and showed an increasing appreciation for healthy sports, and the welfare of boys in general. Although the football season wound up with that glorious Thanksgiving victory, it must not be assumed that there would be any lack of fun abroad in Chester, with the coming of the time of snow and ice. With that magnificent sheet of water at the door of the town, in the shape of Lake Constance; also the crooked Paradise River beckoning the boys to explore its upper reaches, and the mysteries to be found there, surely winter should open up a new round of exciting outdoor activities for Jack and his friends. That this proved to be the case is evident from the title of the next story in the Series, which it is to be hoped every reader of this volume will secure and enjoy to the full—"Jack Winters' Iceboat Wonder; or, Leading the Hockey Seven to Victory." THE ENDWe are now trying to release all our eBooks one year in advance of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing. 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