and thought swiftly. He had time for about one more play. And the Union State goal was forty yards away. Should he try the play Cavendish had sprung on them the last week of practice? The play the coach had said was a fifty-to-one shot, not to be tried unless everything else had failed? Well, the time looked ripe.
Harold yelled the next signal. He trotted back and lay prone on the ground. Chester Trask grimly stationed himself ten yards beyond his quarterback. The place-kick formation. A place-kick from the center of the field! It could be done, but the effort would have to be a mighty one. "Block that kick!" yelled the Union State stands. "Block that kick!" warned Captain McCoy.
The ball spiraled to the recumbent Lamb. He set its nose on the ground as the Union State line surged forward. But Trask's toe never hit that ball. Even as the captain swung toward it, Harold sprang to his feet with the ball and slipped like greased lightning around the right end. For an instant the Union Staters were outwitted. They tackled Trask. They looked in the air for the ball. Then they set out in full cry after Harold.
Blythe and Houghton were ranged beside him for interference. The former quickly sacrificed himself to take out a Union State
