“Twenty yards now to a touchdown,” said the Harvard student on Mr. Lindsay’s right. “They’ll make it in about six downs if they can only hold the ball.”
Mr. Lindsay nodded and smiled. He still disapproved, but he was enjoying where he could not wholly understand and did not at all wish to enjoy. He turned to his friendly neighbor with a question on his lips, but before the question was out, the game again drew his whole attention and that of his neighbor. In some strange way the ball had slipped from the grasp of the Seaton back, and the quick Hillbury tackle had thrown himself upon it. The blue-stockinged back, who had been playing far in the rear, came running up to the Hillbury line, while Jackson turned and scampered back to the centre of the field. A groan ran along the Seaton benches; the ball was Hillbury’s!
“What a rotten fumble!” ejaculated the Harvard student. “Who made it, Bill?”
“Milliken,” snapped back the disgusted Bill. “He ought to be hung!”
On the field no one asked that question, but the men in the line said things under their breath; and sore at heart that the fruit of their toil should be lost just as it seemed within their grasp, turned discouraged but dogged to their defensive game. “Never mind, fellows,” rang out Laughlin’s voice. “We can hold ’em. Get into the game, every man. Watch the ball!” And they stooped to their places, determined to hold the ground they had gained.
The first attack was straight at centre, but the Seaton trio played low, and the Hillbury runner struck a wall and stopped short. Then came a double pass for an end run by Joslin, the speedy back; but Hendry, the Seaton tackle, burst through and drove the runner into Read’s arms with a loss of a yard. So Hillbury was forced to punt, Jackson got under the ball in the centre of the field, and was downed in his tracks by the Hillbury end.
Then began another series of short advances toward the Hillbury goal-line, through Laughlin, through Lindsay, Hendry through the other side, an attempt at an end run, a wing shift with Milliken plunging outside tackle, Hendry again, another delayed pass, left guard back, and straight hard smashes of backs through the centre. The result of the experimenting was that Wolcott’s side of the line was the more frequently called upon, especially the hole between guard and tackle. Hendry and Read did not always succeed in boxing their end. Wolcott sometimes failed to get his man where he wanted him; the Hillbury secondary defence often nullified his efforts; but for some reason Jackson found that here was the line of least resistance. On the defence no one held like Laughlin. On the attack he was always sure, always eager to do his own work and help out Bent, crushing his way like an ice-breaker through the line. Two yards behind Laughlin were always to be counted on with assurance. His very weight and strength and hardness made him terrible. Yet the gains through Wolcott were often greater. He blocked no one’s way; he made his hole and turned in it to drag the runner on; he got into plays for which he might have shirked the responsibility; he was where the ball was, where it was going to be the next instant, wherever his strength and help were needed, pushing and pulling and dragging and keeping his men on their feet.