“Touch-back,” cried Decker.  “Line up on the twenty yards, fellows!”

Hillton’s ruse had won her a free kick, and in another moment the ball was arching toward the St. Eustace goal.  The Blue’s left half secured it, but was downed on his forty yards.  The first attack netted four yards through Hillton’s left-guard, and the crimson flags drooped on their staffs.  On the next play St. Eustace’s full-back hurdled the line for two yards, but lost the pigskin, and amid frantic cries of “Ball!  Ball!” Fletcher, Hillton’s left half, dropped upon it.  The crimson banners waved again, and Hillton voices once more took up the refrain of Hilltonians, while hope surged back into loyal hearts.

“Five minutes to play,” said Professor Beck.  Gardiner nodded.

“Time enough to win in,” he answered.

Decker crouched again, chanted his signal, and the Hillton full plunged at the blue-clad line.  But only a yard resulted.

“Signal!” cried the quarter. “8—­51—­16—­5!”

The ball came back into his waiting hands, was thrown at a short pass to the left half, and, with right half showing the way and full-back charging along beside, Fletcher cleared the line through a wide gap outside of St. Eustace’s right tackle and sped down the field while the Hillton supporters leaped to their feet and shrieked wildly.  The full-back met the St. Eustace right half, and the two were left behind on the turf.  Beside Fletcher, a little in advance, ran the Hillton captain and right half-back, Paul Gale.  Between them and the goal, now forty yards away, only the St. Eustace quarter remained, but behind them came pounding footsteps that sounded dangerous.

Gardiner, followed by the professor and a little army of privileged spectators, raced along the line.

“He’ll make it,” muttered the head coach.  “They can’t stop him!”

One line after another went under the feet of the two players.  The pursuit was falling behind.  Twenty yards remained to be covered.  Then the waiting quarter-back, white-faced and desperate, was upon them.  But Gale was equal to the emergency.

“To the left!” he panted.

Fletcher obeyed with weary limbs and leaden feet, and without looking knew that he was safe.  Gale and the St. Eustace player went down together, and in another moment Fletcher was lying, faint but happy, over the line and back of the goal!

The stands emptied themselves on the instant of their triumphant burden of shouting, cheering, singing Hilltonians, and the crimson banners waved and fluttered on to the field.  Hillton had escaped defeat!

But Fortune, now that she had turned her face toward the wearers of the Crimson, had further gifts to bestow.  And presently, when the wearied and crestfallen opponents had lined themselves along the goal-line, Decker held the ball amid a breathless silence, and Hillton’s right end sent it fair and true between the uprights:  Hillton, 6; Opponents, 5.