six-yard gains around the Brimfield right end.  But at the fifty-yard line the Blue’s Advance was halted and Claflin was forced to punt.  The kick was short and high and went out near the Maroon-and-Grey’s thirty-yard line.  Carmine hurled Freer at the centre for four, the same player slid off left tackle for three more and Carmine himself made it first down on a wide end-run.  Once more Brimfield took up its journey toward the distant goal line.

Lateral passes, forward passes, delayed plays, all were used and all gained something, while Freer and Still and Freer again slid past the tackles, Carmine shot through here and there like a jack rabbit and the slower-moving Rollins bucked the line for less spectacular gains.  Past the centre of the field rolled the Maroon-and-Grey, past the forty yards, past the thirty.  Claflin fought tooth and nail, despairingly, desperately, longing for the whistle that should announce the end.

Just past the thirty-yard line Brimfield had a setback and her progress was halted when Gafferty was caught off-side.  It became second down then with fifteen to go and Rollins trotted back up the field and held his arms out.  But Claflin wasn’t looking for a punt on second down and so was not deceived as to her opponent’s intentions.  What did deceive her, though, was the play that came off.  For the ball was snapped to Freer, and Freer, after running across the field, passed back to Carmine and that youth, twisting on his heel, dashed straight into the confusion of friend and foe, dodging, feinting, twisting, and emerged on the other side and raced on for the goal line.  But near the twenty he was brought low by a Claflin back, and it was third down and a half-yard to go.  Carmine pantingly demanded the time.  The answer was two minutes.

It was Still who got the necessary half-yard, together with a yard more for good measure.  Claflin halted the game while an injured right end was nursed back to an interest in life, and in that interim Coach Robey sent in three substitutes.  Sherrard went in for Edwards, Holt for Roberts, and Saunders, limping a little, took the place of Trow at right tackle.  Clint had his head-guard ready to hand over when he saw Saunders trot on and was more than surprised when the former left tackle passed him by and laid his hand on Trow’s arm.  Holt evidently brought a message from Coach Robey, for he dragged Carmine back and whispered to him.  What the instructions were was soon apparent, for when the whistle shrilled again the Maroon-and-Grey began a relentless hammering of the Blue’s left side, hurling her backs at guard and tackle, and, although Claflin sent her backs to the rescue of the beleaguered forwards, the gains came consistently and grew longer and longer.  The Maroon-and-Grey, on the eight yards now, was again demanding surrender.