Mason was hurt and the whistle shrilled.

A cheer arose from the north stand and a youth running into the field from the side-line heard it with fast-beating heart.
"_Erskine! Erskine! Erskine! Rah-rah-rah, rah-rah-rah, rah-rah-rah! Fletcher! Fletcher! Fletcher!_" Mason was taken off, protesting feebly, and on the next plunge of the tackle-tandem Neil, with Pearse behind him, brought hope back to Erskine hearts, for the "antidote" worked to perfection again.

All the pent-up strength and enthusiasm of Neil's body and heart were turned loose, and he played, as he had known he could if given the opportunity, as he had never played before, either at Erskine or Hillton.

The spirit of battle held him; he was perfectly happy, and every knock and bruise brought him joy rather than pain.

His chance had come to prove to both the coaches and the fellows that their first estimate of him was the correct one.
Robinson made her distance and gained the twenty-yard line by a trick play outside of left tackle; but that was all she did on that occasion, for in the next three downs she failed to advance the ball a single inch, and it went to Erskine.