As it thudded against his canvas jacket and as he started to run three pairs of arms closed about him, and he went down in his tracks.

The ball lay on Yates's fifty-three-yard line.
The field streamed up.

The big Yates center took the ball.

Joel crept up behind the line, his hands on the broad canvas-covered forms in front, dodging back and forth behind Murdoch and Selkirk.
"_26--57--38--19--_!" The, opposing left half started across, took the ball, and then--why, then Joel was at the very bottom of some seven hundred pounds of writhing humanity, trying his best to get his breath, and wondering where the ball was! "Second down.

Three and a half yards to gain." Again the lines faced.