Then it was that the god of battle befriended Hillton; for on the next play St.Eustace made her first disastrous fumble, and Christie, Hillton's right end, darted through, seized the rolling spheroid, and started down the field.
Five, ten, fifteen, twenty yards he sped, the St.Eustace backs trailing after him.
"A touch-down!" cried Remsen.

"No, the half's gaining! He's got him! No, missed him, by Jove! A-ah!" The run was over, and Christie lay panting on the ground, with the triumphant St.Eustace half-back sitting serenely on his head; for, although the latter had missed his tackle, Christie had slipped in avoiding him.

But cheers for Christie and Hillton filled the afternoon air, and the two elevens lined up near St.Eustace's twenty-five-yard line, yet well over toward the side of the field.
"If it was only in the middle of the field," groaned Blair, "a place-kick would tie the score.

How much time is there, Mr.Remsen ?" "About two and a half minutes," answered Remsen.

"But I've an idea that, middle or no middle, Whipple's going to signal a kick." "It can't be done," answered Blair with conviction, "drop or placement! March is only fair at goals, and at that angle--" "What's the matter with the man ?" cried Remsen; "what's he up to ?" For the Hillton backs were clustered well up behind the line as though for a wedge attack.