Frank Merriwell's Return to Yale Part 61

There he poised himself.

Cross fiddled with the ball between his legs. The suspense became intense.

Suddenly the ball was snapped and pa.s.sed back. Punk--Frank kicked it.

Away it sailed.

He did it before those Harvard tigers could down him. It was a glorious kick. Through the goal posts and over the bar it sailed.

Then the Yale yell was heard.

But the game was not over. Harvard had secured a touchdown and a goal.

Yale had secured a goal. It seemed that she had feared utter defeat, else she would have fought for the touchdown.

The Harvard crowd remained confident. They crowed, for they said Yale had displayed her own lack of confidence by kicking a goal from the field.

The time was growing short, and there seemed little chance for Yale to do anything more. Harvard men laughed and said Harvard would obtain another touchdown and goal before the end.

Little time was lost in putting the ball into play again. Harvard immediately started out with rushes. Now, to the astonishment of all, Yale was the stone wall.

Soon the ball went to Yale. Mills took it around Harvard's end for fifteen yards. Powell bucked the center with it and gained some ground.

Harvard men began to get anxious. Things had changed since the first half. Harvard was on the defensive now. What had caused the change no one could tell.

Back and still back the Harvard line was forced. Would Yale try to secure another goal from the field? That was the question.

Paula Benjamin was almost crying.

"It's Frank Merriwell!" she said. "Jack said he would hoodoo Harvard, and he has!"

"It is Frank!" thought Inza. "He has put life into the Yale men. He has given them confidence somehow. He must win now--he will!"

The ball was getting dangerously near Harvard's line. The Cambridge men fought to hold it during the last few minutes of the game.

Then, with a sudden movement, a man was sent through Harvard's center, although an around-the-end play had been antic.i.p.ated. It was a tricky move, and took Harvard by surprise.

Like a shot that man went through Harvard's line. He ran with wonderful speed, with interferers on either side and a bit in advance.

It was Frank making a last desperate effort for a touchdown!

One by one the interferers were flung aside till he was alone, hugging the ball, running as if for his life.

Three men came down on him while he had fifteen yards to go. They flung themselves on him like famished wolves. They thought to crush him to the ground.

Then ten thousand people gasped with astonishment, scarcely able to believe what they saw.

It did not seem that Merriwell slackened speed much, and he still went forward, carrying those three men on his back and shoulders. They tried to drag him down, and others tried to reach him. They could not break him to the ground, and, with them all on his back he carried the ball over the line. Then he fell, and the ball was beneath him.

It was a touchdown for Yale! Besides that, it was the most wonderful touchdown ever made on a football field. A mighty roar went up from the spectators when they realized what had happened. Never before had they witnessed anything like that. They knew the man who made the play had won fame. To-morrow his picture would be in every Boston and New York newspaper.

Oh, how the Yale men shrieked, and screamed, and roared! They were like human beings gone mad. They were crazed with their admiration for the man who had done that trick. They longed to take him in their arms, to bear him on their shoulders, to do him every honor.

Gloriously had Frank Merriwell won back his lost prestige! Let a man breathe a slur against him now and there would be a hundred ready to knock that man down.

When the ma.s.s untangled Merriwell was seen lifted to his feet. He stood up, wavering a bit, supported by Forrest, who had an arm around Frank's body.

Then Frank pushed Forrest off. Time was precious, and his soul was strong.

Hasty preparations were made, and, for all of what he had just pa.s.sed through, Merriwell kicked a goal.

Three seconds later the game was over, and Yale had won.

Then all Merriwell's admirers rushed upon the field to surround him, to fight for a look at him, and to roar their delight.

"Rah for Yale!"

"Three cheers for Frank Merriwell!"

"They can't down Old Eli!"

So the cries rang on.

It was truly a scene never to be forgotten.

But at that moment Frank did not think of the game.

He was wondering what Inza would say.

Would she forgive him for what he had done?

"Oh, I hope she does," was his thought. "If she doesn't----" And he could think no further.

CHAPTER x.x.xVII.

INZA BEGINS TO UNDERSTAND.

"How did the game come out?" asked Miss Abigail Gale, Inza's aunt, as the two girls returned to Paula's home, which was a handsome house in an aristocratic portion of the Back Bay.

Miss Gale was knitting. For all of her luxurious surroundings, she was plainly dressed, and she was practicing economy by knitting herself some winter stockings. Reputed to be comfortably rich, Miss Gale was "close-handed" and thrifty.

"Yale won, of course!" cried Inza, who had not recovered from her enthusiasm. "Oh, Aunt Abby, you should have seen it!"

"No, no!" exclaimed the spinster, shaking her head.

"You would have gone crazy over it!"