latter proved to be a player of exceptional ability, and speeding straight at the full-back, he suddenly dodged, so that Carter, who made a dive for him, also missed, and went sprawling.
There was now not a player betwen the Canton man and the goal line. Like mad, his friends leaped to their feet, and sent cheer after cheer ringing into the air.
"Touchdown! Touchdown! Touchdown!" was the frenzied yell.
"After him!" shouted Captain Woodhouse. "Don't let him touch it down, fellows!"
He was running desperately, but speed was not his strong point. Tom Parsons, however, was on the alert. There was not many who could beat him at the scudding game, and he tore off over the white marks after the cadet, with a fierce desire to pull him down in his tracks. It was a hard race, but Tom won, and grappled his man in a fierce tackle from behind, not two yards from the goal line. Down they went heavily, lying there for a few seconds, the breath knocked from them both.
"Do—down!" gasped the cadet, and there were tears in his eyes, for it meant the end of the hope of his school.
"Too bad, old man," spoke Tom kindly, "but we really couldn't allow it, you know. It was a good try, though."
