"Here they come!" yelled the boys of Pornell. "Three cheers for Putnam Hall!"
The cheers were given with a will; and, getting the football team and the other cadets together, Putnam Hall gave a rousing cheer in return for Pornell Academy.
Then the football teams disappeared into their respective dressing rooms, and the newly arrived cadets took their places in the grandstand. A timekeeper and referee had already been appointed by Sam and the rival captain, at a meeting at the Hall three days before.
"My! what a crowd!" exclaimed Tom, as he surveyed the multitude.
"I didn't think we were going to have such an audience as this!"
"Nor I," returned Sam. "We must do our level best, fellows!"
"That's what!" came from several. "If we get whipped--"
"Remember what Baxter did--that's enough to nerve anybody on,"
finished Larry Colby.
"By the way, where is Baxter?"
"Sneaked out of the ranks," answered another player. "Nobody wanted to march with him."
"Well, I don't blame them," concluded Sam.
"Doctor Pornell now put in an appearance and desired to know if the football team did not wish to march around the oval escorted by his own players.
"Certainly!" cried Sam. "And to show this is a purely friendly match, let us march side by side," he went on, and this was also arranged. The Putnam Hall drum-and-fife corps led the march, and each player strode forth with a rival at his side. The march brought forth a wild round of applause and a veritable shrieking of tin horns and cracking of wooden clappers.
After the march each team was allowed quarter of an hour for practicing. The Pornellites came out first and tumbled over the leather in lively fashion. The Putnamites soon followed.
"They may be all right, but they haven't the weight," said one of the rivals. And this appeared true, for each Pornellite, man for man, was at least five pounds heavier than his opponent. But weight does not always count for everything, even in a football match.
"Time for practice is up!" came presently, and the two teams drew away from the gridiron. Then there was a toss-up for goals, and Pornell won and took the east end, that which was most favored by the slight breeze that was blowing.
And then the great game began.
CHAPTER XVI
THE GREAT FOOTBALL GAME
The halves were to be of twenty minutes each, so no time was lost in putting the leather into the field. It was Putnam's kick-off, and on the instant the ball went sailing into the air, to land well into Pornell's territory. Then came a grand rush, and before the words can be put down twenty-two lads were at it nip-and-tuck to get possession of the sphere.
"It's Pornell's ball!"
"Say, but ain't this going to be a snappy game!"
"Our fellows have the ball!"
"There she goes up five yards into Putnam ground!"
"Carry that ball back!" yelled Dick excitedly. "Don't let them gain an inch!"
"Whoop her up for Pornell!"
And then came a wild blare of tin horns and a waving of the academy colors, brown and white. The waving of the Hall colors, an American flag set in a border of green, came also, with an equal din from horns and wooden clappers.
"Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!"
So, the game went on for ten minutes, and the Pornellites had gained exactly twenty-five yards--no more.
"Looks like a stand-off," said several. "Say, maybe those young soldiers aren't game!"
"That's what--but we'll wax 'em!" was the answer, and then of a sudden came another yell, for Pornell had the ball and was pushing it straight ahead for Putnam's goal.
"Ten yards!"
"Five yards more!"
"Fifteen yards more!"
"Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!"
Toot! toot-a-root-toot! Clack-clack-clack, bang!
The Pornellites were now wild, but they stared blankly as they saw plucky Tom Rover snatch the leather up and run back twenty yards with it.
"He's going right through with it!"
"There goes Hardy after him!"
"Down they go!"
"Lushear has the ball! It's going back!"
"Run, Lushear, run! A dollar if you make it!"
"They can't catch him! Oh, pshaw! Down he goes!"
"But the ball is safe! A touchdown! Hurrah!"
The cry was correct. Just three minutes before the end of the first half the Pornell team scored a touchdown. Instantly preparations were made to kick a goal if possible. But the kick was a failure, and the two sides retired for the half with the score standing 4 to 0 in Pornell Academy's favor.
Glumly the Hall boys retired to their dressing room, there to be rubbed down by their chums. "It's too bad, it certainly is," came from a dozen sympathizers.
"But it can't be helped. Don't give up yet."
"They are too heavy for us in mass play," said Sam. "We must try more running away with the leather." And so it was agreed.