a hoarse Hughie Mulligan, "Is the ball over? I can't look. I'm scared to death. Is it over the line?"
Hughie could not yet say for sure. And neither could the jubilant Tate stands. The referee plunged to the bottom of the heap, scattering Blue-clad and Red and White-clad warriors alike. He tore loose the desperately clinging Tobey. He lifted the exhausted Harold off the ball. He observed ball and last white line. Then he jumped to his feet and swung an arm aloft to the scoreboard.
The ball was over!
A wonderful "6" leaped beside the word "Tate" up there on the huge black scoreboard.
The Tate cheering section became a raving madhouse. Hughie Mulligan danced around Cavendish and hugged him. The Tate substitutes did a war dance. The Tate players on the field whirled, turned cartwheels and flung headgear into the air. Then concentrated on pounding the back of Harold Lamb.
The referee brought the ball out so that Tate could try for their extra point. The teams lined up, Tate joyous. Union State glum. But the goal was never kicked. As the ball was snapped back, the whistle shrilled.
The game was over!
