CHAPTER XXIII.

"ENDS AROUND."

Not once during the first half had Frank Merriwell’s new "ends-around" formation been tried. The line-over had not proved a good thing, and it seemed that Fardale was afraid to try anything but the simplest kind of tactics.

During the intermission, however, Frank had a talk with Captain Nunn and other members of the eleven. Somehow, it always seemed that the team came out stronger and more determined after being talked to by Frank between the halves.

Fardale was anxious to win this game, but every man of the team knew it must be won by hard, persistent, determined playing. No half-hearted work would count this day. Some of the players had been used pretty roughly, but every man was ready and eager to go back for the second half.

The Fardale benches were singing "Glory to the Red and Black" when the squad came trotting out to the field once more. Then, just before the second half began, a cadet arose and proposed a cheer for Frank Merriwell. It was given with a will.

Another popped up and proposed one for Dick Merriwell. Then the popularity of the strange boy who had made many enemies at the academy was shown. The crowd had cheered heartily for Frank, but it broke into a perfect roar of applause for Dick.

Hal Darrell did not cheer, but he saw Doris Templeton rise when the cheer was called for and add her voice to the burst of sound, waving her flag. Hal bit his lip and said nothing, while she gave him a laughing look as she sat down, asking:

"Why didn’t you cheer, Hal?"

"I didn’t feel like cheering for either of those fellows," he said. "I’m not a hypocrite, Doris, whatever else you may believe me."

And, somehow, she liked him better for the answer.

But little time was lost in making ready after the two teams came out. The men scattered over the field for Viewland to kick off. There was a slight pause, and then the whistle shrilled.

Young was the man who booted the oval, which was caught by a strong gust of wind and carried far to the right. Apparently, the ball was going out of bounds, but Blair took it eighteen yards from Fardale’s line, and ran it forward fourteen yards before being grassed by Warwick.

There the teams lined up, but a single change having been made on either side. For the visitors Hagan had replaced Low as left guard.

"26—28—15—F—100—4," came the signal, and the tackles-back formation was made, the ball going to Stanton on the pass. Stanton found an opening through the center, was tackled, but dragged his tackler along to one side for a gain of fully six yards.

This was the kind of work that always proved surprising to the team that faced Fardale at the opening of the second half. It made Viewland angry, and the captain talked sharply to his men who had permitted Stanton to get through.

Then Viewland stiffened up wonderfully, and held the assaults for downs till Fardale was compelled to kick. Singleton took into account the wind, and was careful not to have it carry the ball out of bounds, as they were still near the side-lines. Up into the wind he drove the ball, till it fell into the hands of Jordan, who made a forward dash of eleven yards, and was brought down with a terrible shock by Burrows, five yards from the center of the field.

Jordan was hurt. Out came the bucket of water, and he was soused till he gasped for breath. But when he tried to get up he toppled over, and was ordered off the field. He went with reluctance, a red-headed chap trotting out to fill his position. The name of the newcomer was Quimby, and the Viewland crowd gave him a cheer.

"He’s better than Jordan," declared more than one. "He ought to be on the team, anyhow."

The ball was given to Quimby the very first thing, and, aided by good interference, with the whole backfield behind him, he was rammed through for fully seven yards, carrying the ball into Fardale’s territory once more.

But Viewland did not stop there. With merciless persistency she hammered at Fardale’s line, making gains that took her within twenty-eight yards of the home team’s goal. Even then it is possible that the gains might have continued, but the visitors made an open and plainly seen forward pass.

Instantly the whistle sounded clear, the umpire declared the ball as belonging to Fardale, and there was a sudden change in affairs.

Shannock gave the signal:

"3—33—Y—32—201—76—16."

It was a call for Dick Merriwell to take the ball through center.

Dick felt that something must be done to arouse Fardale and put the team on its mettle, so, the instant he got the ball he went in after Shannock, who had plunged between Buckhart and Gordan. Shannock managed to butt an opening, and through this Dick shot, making fully ten yards before being tackled. Then Moulton and Warne nailed him, but when they had dragged him down he crawled forward, with them clinging to him, and the ball was close to the forty-five-yard line, when it seemed that several tons came down on Merriwell and held him fast.

The breath was driven from Dick’s body, and he fancied he heard his bones cracking. The pressure was something frightful to endure, but no sound escaped his lips. When they rose from him he lay there, stretched limply on the ground.

Into the heart of Jabez Lynch leaped a wild thrill of joy.

"Merriwell’s done for!" he muttered.

"It looks that way," said a well-known voice, and again Lynch found Scudder at his elbow.

"You—again?" he growled.

"Oh, yes!" said Uric. "I’m not drifting far away from you, dear boy. I’m waiting to see you collect your bets after the game."

"What for?"

"I have a little bill to settle Monday."

"You’ll settle it with none of my money!" grated Lynch.

"Oh, dear boy!" exclaimed Uric, grinning and passing his fingers over his chin. "We’re such good friends, I know you’ll not refuse me. If you did, I might feel bad and talk too much about it."

"Hang you!" panted Lynch, in a whisper. "I was a fool to ever have anything to do with you!"

"Don’t call yourself such harsh names, Lynch. A fellow like you can’t help being a fool—sometimes."

Jabez longed to smash the insulting fellow, but he dared not do it there.

A shout rose from the spectators. Dick Merriwell had risen, and he was thrusting off those who offered him assistance. They heard him declaring that he was fit to remain in the game.

Then somebody began to sing, and the crowd took it up:

What’s the matter with Dick Merriwell? He’s all right! He can fight! He’s always in the game, And his work is never tame, He’ll get there just the same; So—— What’s the matter with Dick Merriwell?

Scudder actually laughed when Lynch swore in a smothered tone of voice.

"It’s a shame," he said, "but you can’t knock that fellow out with an iron bar."

Dick was rather weak when the team lined up again, and, of course, he was not selected to advance the ball, which was given, instead, to Nunn, for an end-run. Steve was tackled and held without a gain.

But the next effort was successful, Singleton going through center for seven yards. The ball was close to the center of the field. Again Fardale was doing well, and her supporters cheered lustily.

But Shannock soon became an offender, for he failed to take Buckhart’s pass properly, and let the ball get away from him. Kernan came through and fell on the oval, which brought the thirty Viewland rooters up standing and shouting.

Seeing this, Jabez Lynch laughed.

"Now Viewland will do something," he thought.

His conviction seemed justified, for the visiting team quickly lined up and hit Fardale’s right wing for a gain of more than five yards. As a rusher, the new man Quimby gave Douglass all he wanted to do.

Warne was given the ball next, and he seemed to start for a run round the end, but he turned suddenly, and hit the line in the same place as before, going through between Douglass and Stanton for fully nine yards before being brought down by Nunn.

Viewland did not stop. She was out for blood this time, and something like seven yards were made with a revolving formation that again struck Fardale’s right wing.

Lynch, seeing all this, put his hand over his mouth to keep from laughing aloud.

"Keep it up!" he whispered. "Don’t make a foolish fumble now! Stick to it!"

This was exactly what the visitors did, for the next plunge took the ball almost to Fardale’s twenty-yard line.

Captain Nunn urged his men to brace up and stop these steady gains, but all his urging could not prevent another gain through the right wing that lay the ball fairly on the line fifteen yards from the goal.

Douglass had fought grimly, and now he reeled when he was lifted to his feet, after the mix-up on the down. Immediately Toby Kane was called out to take Douglass’ place, while Stanton gave way to Hovey.

"Bet five dollars Viewland scores!" cried one of the visiting spectators, and no one made a move to take him, for, as a last resort, the visitors might kick a goal from the field, the position in front of the posts being favorable.

The mass-plays on Fardale’s right wing were abandoned for the moment, while Warne was again given the ball for an end-run, and he took it to within eight yards of Fardale’s line.

"They can’t be stopped!" roared the man who had offered to bet.

Doris Templeton was in distress.

"Oh, why don’t they stop them?" she exclaimed, trembling with excitement and fear.

"I’m afraid they can’t," said Hal Darrell, who was very pale. "It’s beginning to look bad for us."

Quimby tried Fardale’s left end, but Merriwell was ready to meet him, and he went down without a gain. But then Young slammed into Sargent and crowded the ball to within two yards of the line before being held.

"Touch-down! touch-down!" roared the thirty loyal Viewland rooters.

The Fardale crowd suddenly drowned these cries with a great cheer, meant to encourage the home team. Perhaps that cheer did give the battered young heroes courage, for Viewland’s following two efforts were failures as ground-gainers, and the ball remained two yards from the goal.

Still, Viewland did not believe the cadets could hold her there, and a revolving-mass play was hurled against the right wing. Kane and Hovey showed their mettle by standing up well before this assault, backed by Shannock, Nunn, and Singleton, and the ball went down without a gain.

To the joy of the greater portion of the crowd, Fardale had secured the leather on downs at this point, where it seemed Viewland must score. Without delay, the ball was given to Merriwell to kick. Dick took the wind into account, and made a magnificent drive clean to the fifty-yard line.

The ball was run back about seven yards, when Burrows stopped it, and there the line-up was again made.

Surely, Fardale was fighting for her life, but all her efforts could not prevent a clean gain of six yards.

Then the cadets made a strong stand, and Viewland’s following efforts failed to give but four yards and a half in the required number of trials, which gave the home team the ball on downs.

Nunn made nearly five yards on the first effort.

"13—93—Y—168—13—33," was the signal.

Merriwell knew what was required of him, but he seemed utterly unprepared. Apparently, something was the matter with his leg, for he limped about off at one side, and not one of the visiting players fancied he would attempt to do anything.

But the ball went to Dick on the pass, and he seemed to take it on the run, tuck it under his arm, and go shooting round the end. It was done swiftly, and Dick was past Gould and Quimby before they could tackle him. Then he flew over the field toward Viewland’s goal.

Only for one thing, Dick must have made a touch-down in that attempt. Young had been holding far back, to take any sudden kick, and he was between the runner and the goal.

Dick did his best to pass the Viewland full-back, but Young closed in on him surely. Dick came very near escaping, but Young got him by one leg and brought him down. With Young clinging like a leech, Dick managed to roll over and over till he had secured still more distance.

The Fardale crowd rose and shrieked like fiends. At last the time had come for the home team to get into the game in desperate earnest, or defeat was certain.

There was scarcely any delay. Fardale lined up, and the signal was given for a tackle-back formation. Hovey went into the center and made a handsome gain. The same formation drove Blair forward with the ball for more than six yards.

And now, with the ball twenty-five yards from Viewland’s line, there began to seem a possible chance of a field-goal.

Fardale’s next effort secured no gain, but then Nunn took the ball through for six yards. The team seemed full of fire, and the witnesses were wildly excited.

But Viewland stiffened and held fast for two downs. Would Fardale try a drop-kick?

"On the jump!" cried Nunn.

"On the jump!" echoed Shannock.

A thrill went through every player. It was the signal for Frank Merriwell’s new "ends-around" play. There was a crouching, a pause, a stir—the ball had gone to Dick Merriwell.

Then it seemed that both ends of Fardale’s line crumbled and were thrust back before the charge of the other team. Merriwell leaped in behind Buckhart and Gordan, feeling himself grasped about the waist. He was astonished at the force with which he was thrust forward, and a gain was made that left the ball within twelve yards of the enemy’s goal.

But that play had not been made exactly right, some of the players failing to do their part. Captain Nunn was afraid of a bungle, and so he fell back on old tactics, giving Shannock the word.

Five yards more were secured by fierce work, and then Kane became too enthusiastic and got off-side at this critical juncture, making a play that gave the ball to Viewland.

The Fardale crowd groaned in dismay, as the half was getting near the end.

Viewland had learned a lesson, and now she lost no time in kicking the ball away from this dangerous point. Young drove it over the forty-five-yard line, where Singleton caught it and ran back a trifle over five yards before being downed.

Captain Nunn saw the situation was desperate, for it seemed that the game would end before anything more could be done. In this extremity he resolved on extreme measures.

"On the jump!" he cried.

"On the jump!" came again from Shannock.

The line formed, the ball was passed, the ends swung round, followed by the opposing ends, and the full force of this movement was used to shoot Dick Merriwell forward seven yards.

"’Rah! ’rah! ’rah!" yelled the crowd. "Give ’em some more of that!"

Not a word was spoken, and the Fardale team knew it was to continue the play. Again it was tried, and again more than five yards were made.

Viewland was amazed, for Fardale seemed to weaken in the rush, yet somehow the ball was thrust forward for a good gain each time. It was rather bewildering, to say the least. Again the same trick was played, and the ball went to within a yard of Viewland’s twenty-yard line.

The visitors could not realize that they were playing against themselves.

Time was precious, and Fardale played swiftly, making no change. Another play had the ball over the fifteen-yard line. Another carried it within seven yards of the goal.

It seemed a new team Viewland was facing, and the wondering visitors could not understand it.

"Over this time—over!" cried Nunn.

And, with that same trick, the ball was jammed through Viewland’s center and over the line for a touch-down.

Then, as the Fardale crowd cheered and sang, the oval was punted out and cleverly caught. With a good position in front of the posts, Captain Nunn stretched himself on the ground, and Dick Merriwell prepared to try for a goal.

"You must kick that goal, Dick!" cried the Fardale boys.

There was a hush in the cheering as Dick went at the ball and kicked.

The diagram on the opposite page shows all the plays of the second half:

x x x x x x x x KICK OFF. — — — — — PUNTS. ————————— RUNS. 1. VIEWLAND LOSES BALL ON FORWARD PASS. 2. DICK’S RUN ROUND VIEWLAND’S LEFT END. 3. FARDALE LOSES BALL FOR OFFSIDE PLAY. 4. FARDALE’S REPEATED GAINS AND TOUCHDOWN ON THE ‘ENDS AROUND’ PLAY.