But Yale was undaunted, and again a kick was tried from behind the line. Again the man was beaten down, but this time the Harvard gladiators were too late, and the ball sailed through the air, came to earth, and rolled out of bounds at Harvard’s fifteen-yard line. But Harvard got possession of the leather, and there she lined up for her first assault on the Yale line.
Across the field rolled a great chorus of voices singing a song to inspire the defenders of the crimson. There was scarcely a moment of delay, and then a Harvard man was sent against Yale’s left wing, which was regarded as weak. But Jack Ready was there, and he distinguished himself by bringing the man with the ball to the ground without a foot of gain.
It was beginning to look brighter for Yale.
“Frank Merriwell did it!” screamed Diamond in the ear of Bruce Browning. “He put the needed courage into the men. We’re going to win this game!”
Browning nodded. His confidence had been restored and he was feeling better.
“It would have been a cinch if Merriwell had played,” he shouted back.
But their enthusiasm and confidence received a setback when a Harvard man was sent against the right wing of the Yale line, and, aided by splendid interference, cut his way through and took the ball up the field fifteen yards. It was Badger who tackled and brought the runner to earth, the interference being unable to stop the rush of the determined Westerner.
Immediately following this a round-the-end play was tried, but it resulted in no gain for Harvard. The left wing was bucked again, but the needed five yards were not obtained on the second down.
And then, by a new and surprising play, Harvard seemed to try to send the ball round the end, but shifted with the suddenness of a flash of lightning and hurled herself in one compact mass against Yale’s center. It was a surprise. Yale seemed split and overwhelmed in a twinkling. The man with the ball came through, his interferers protecting him finely. Down the field he sped toward the Yale goal, and the great throng of Harvard students rose up and thundered like the bursting of a mighty storm in the tropics.
Behind the Harvard runner came defenders of the blue. The men before him were swept aside by the interference. It looked like a great, sensational run for a touch-down. Yale spectators were gasping for breath, while the Harvard crowd roared its applause and delight. Bruce Browning was speechless; Jack Diamond was shivering as if struck by a chill; Harry Rattleton was white as chalk. They realized that a run through Yale’s center at this early stage of the game might totally demoralize the Yale eleven. And the run was being made!