"_1--9--9!_" Joel crept back a bare yard.

"_1--9--9!_" Kingdon leaped forward, snugged the ball under his arm, and followed by Joel tried to find a hole inside left end.

But the hole was not there, and the ball was instantly in the center of a pushing, grinding mass.
"Down!" No gain.
Story, worming his way through the jumble, clapped his hands.

Chesney was already stooping over the ball.

Joel ran to his position, and the quarter threw a rapid glance behind him.
"_2--8--9_!" He placed his hand on the center's broad back.
"_2--8_--!" The ball was snapped.