Dunkirk was saddened by the advance, thus easily made, though she was not discouraged. But when Ray Dutton went through the line for another substantial gain, and when, without the necessity for kicking in the next scrimmage, John Stiver got through between tackle and guard for eight yards, then there were anxious hearts. "Walk up for a touchdown!" called several in the crowd of Kentfield supporters in the grand stand. "We'll do it!" cried Dick. The coveted touchdown came a few minutes later, the ball having been carried down the field in a series of whirlwind rushes. Paul Drew was shoved over the line, and then Jim Watkins kicked goal. "Our first points!" cried Dick in delight. "Now the team is beginning to play." And play they did. It was a foregone conclusion after that, and Dunkirk had no chance. They realized it, and when, after the first half, there were thirty points in favor of Kentfield, and none for their opponents, the captain of Dunkirk said to Dick: "Our only hope now is to hold you down. You're better off now than Blue Hill was against us." "That's what we're after," declared the young millionaire. "We're going to wallop Blue Hill when we get the chance, too." The second half was a repetition of the first. Once on a fumble Dunkirk got the ball, and another time as a penalty for holding on the part of too eager George Hall. The home team tried desperately hard to score, and several of their men were knocked out, but it was not to be. Once, when because of a miscalculation, the man with the ball got through Dick's line, the young captain had a momentary fear lest his team be scored against. But Hal Foster was on the alert and nailed the panting man with the ball. There came some fierce scrimmages for Dunkirk was desperate, and Hal was knocked out. This gave Teddy Naylor a chance to get in the game, and he rushed in with eager impetuosity. "I'm going to make a touchdown!" he declared. "Let me try, Dick." He was given a chance, and made good, bursting through the line of Dunkirk players, shaking off a fierce tackle by the full-back, and making a score after a forty yard run amid frantic cheers. After that the Kentfield lads took it a little easier, for which their opponents were duly grateful. Teddy Naylor kicked a beautiful field goal, and then time was called, with the score fifty to nothing in favor of "Dick Hamilton's team," as his chums insisted on calling it. "Oh, but I feel good!" cried our hero as he ran to the dressing rooms. "You look like a peach," said Paul. "One eye is half closed and your nose looks as if some one had hammered brass work on it." "They did, I guess. But you're no picture either. Look at your left ear." "Wish I could. But never mind. We beat 'em!" CHAPTER XVI A DARING PLAN