The next few minutes proved the value of advertising. Hoskins had read the newspapers and thought she knew all about Locke: that he had done sixty yards frequently in practice; that Broadmoor had been trying to keep him under cover; that he was dangerous. Oh, you couldn’t catch Old Hoskins napping! Had he thought of it, Barry might have felt flattered at seeing how far back the safety men played! But the Blue-and-Orange wasn’t any too certain that Broadmoor meant to punt on third down, and it didn’t open its defense more than it had to. But still, Demille, to whom the ball went, managed to get back that five yards that the penalty had cost and a foot or so more. Fourth down now, and again Barry was called back. He knew the ball wasn’t to reach him, but he didn’t let any one else know it. He set his feet solidly, cast an appraising eye down the field, and held out his arms. Then Pete Zosker sped the ball back to Haviland, Haviland passed it swiftly to Larry Smythe, and Larry, dodging this way and that, eluded the enemy craftily, crossed the forty-two yards at full-tilt and kept right on to the thirty-one. And Broadmoor arose in the east stand and went quite crazy! Locke back again! And this time the ball was his. But he didn’t kick it. He put it under his arm and sped to the left, a wall of interference between him and the foe, turned in at last and crashed straight into the arms of the Hoskins right tackle; and as the latter was about forty pounds heavier than Barry, the play stopped right there! But Barry had added another yard and a half and once more took up kicking position. Hoskins perhaps began to wonder whether or not this Locke fellow really could kick! Barry began to wonder, too, for on the next play it was Johnny Zinn who knifed through center, after nursing the pigskin a moment, and was downed on the twenty-six; very much downed, indeed, since a third of the Hoskins tribe managed to assemble on top of him before the whistle blew!