The whistle brought the first quarter to an end and the teams repaired to the side-lines, for water. Broadmoor began, “Don’t Be Rough,” while across the field the blue-and-orange decked stand broke into the famous Doctor Song. “Doctor! Hurry, Doctor! The patient’s very low!” floated across, and Barry scowled ferociously until the strains behind him gathered volume and the rival’s wailing plea was drowned. The game started again, Broadmoor now with her back to the north goal and favored by the light, chill breeze. The day had begun with clear sunshine and little wind, but by two o’clock clouds had begun to gather, and now, for minutes at a time, the sun was hidden. The breeze seemed to be increasing as the afternoon wore on, and already coat collars were being turned up and at times the tramp-tramp of chilled feet kept time to the cheering. There had been but little kicking in the first period, both teams clinging to the ball until obliged to punt. Now, holding the slight advantage afforded by the breeze, Broadmoor used Tip Cartright repeatedly, sometimes as early as a second down, hoping, doubtless, for a break in the shape of a fumble to bring her to scoring distance. But Hoskins played safe, making fair catches once or twice, once or twice letting the ball hit the ground. Broadmoor started an advance that swept as far as the enemy’s forty-one yards, where Demille was thrown for a loss and two subsequent attempts outside tackles left the home team well short of her distance. Cartright punted from his forty-eight to Hoskins’s seven and a swift-footed back ran the ball to the sixteen before Larry Smythe dropped him. Hoskins gained nine yards on Ellingham, using a tricky delayed pass, and got more than her distance off Captain Buckley on the next play. Another smash at the line and a wide run put the ball on the twenty-five. There, however, Broadmoor stiffened and three attempts yielded Hoskins but seven yards and she punted out on the opponent’s forty-eight. “Locke!” called the Major. “Go in for Cartright. And keep your mouth shut.” Barry shed his blanket and ran across, hand upraised. With a sour grin Tip yielded his head-guard. Broadmoor took up the journey again. There was still all of five minutes left of the half. Zinn stole around right tackle for a bare two yards and Haviland got three through center. On the next play Harris was off-side and the ball went back to the enemy’s forty-seven. “Locke back!” called Zinn.