corner of his eye at the other eleven, who were romping down toward one of the goals.
Two masters in white sweaters stepped over the rope. One of them called the captains to one side and tossed a coin.
Then Frank Windsor came running back to his team. "Our ball!" he said. "Get ready, fellows."
Pythians and Corinthians were cheering wildly while the two teams scattered to their places. Then the cheer was hushed. Harry stamped on a whitewashed line nervously. His heart was beating so hard that it seemed to bother his breathing.
The umpire blew his whistle, the ball went sailing down the field, and Harry rushed after it. Halleck of the Pythians charged down on him to put him out of the way of the runner who had caught the ball. But Harry dodged quite cleverly, and the next instant had flung himself headlong and made the first tackle of the game. It was a good play, and when he got up and heard the Corinthian cheering and found that he was still all right, he ran to his
