Of course, he assumed that Fenton would spring to one side.

Harlowe imagined that it would be a dodge to the left, and Harlowe leaped there to tackle his man.
But Fenton, actually going straight ahead, fooled the calculation of his powerful adversary and got past on the clever trick.
Harlowe dashed after his sly opponent.

But Fenton, still almost with his first big breath in his lungs, was running as fast as ever.

A man of Harlowe's size was no one to send after a greased mosquito like Fenton.
So nothing hindered.

Amid the wildest, noisiest rooting, Fenton stepped it over Hallam's now undefended goal line, reached down and pressed the pigskin against the earth for a touchdown.
On the grand stand the noise was deafening.