Not until Fardale had advanced to within five yards of the goal did she lose the ball. Then it was lost on a fumble by Darrell, Sheehan coming through and falling on it. But now New Era was rattled. The visitors realized now that without the advantage of the greased suits they would not stand much show in the game, and something had happened which seemed to rob those greased suits of their effectiveness. The muddy hands of the Fardale lads soon destroyed the whiteness of the line across their breasts; but one or two of them seemed to be carrying a white powder, which was passed from hand to hand. Each of the cadet players took a handful of this powder and smeared it across his breast, partly renewing the white line. New Era, in her excitement, started with an off-side play that set her back half the distance to the goal-line. On the very next play there was holding in the line, and the ball went to Fardale. The cadets signalized their recovery of the ball by pushing it over for a touch-down at the very first attempt. Singleton kicked for a goal, but with the stopping of the rain a wind had risen, and he did not take it into consideration, with the result that the ball was deflected so that it struck one of the uprights and bounded off. Score: New Era, 16; Fardale, 5. Fardale’s chances looked desperate, but she was right in the game with vim and ginger at the next kick-off. Plainly she was playing to win, if such a thing was possible. By this time New Era had fathomed the secret of Fardale’s success in seizing and holding the visiting players in the greased suits. It was resin—powdered resin! Dick Merriwell had sent Elmer Dow for a bag of the stuff, which he had used while pitching to handle a wet and slippery baseball. This powdered resin had been smeared across the breasts of the Fardale players, who rubbed their hands in it frequently, and thus were enabled to grasp and hold the greased visitors. Somehow Fardale’s success in meeting and spoiling the effectiveness of New Era’s trick seemed to take the heart out of the enemy. Seeing this, the cadets played with renewed energy, and it was not long before the ball was again carried to New Era’s line and pushed over for a touch-down. This time Smart held the ball, and Dick did the kicking. Dick waited for the wind to lull a little, and then he kicked with all the skill and judgment he could command. The oval sailed straight over the center of the cross-bar. Score: New Era, 16; Fardale, 11. Chester Arlington was shaking with excitement. He had shouted until his voice was a husky whisper. “Keep it up!” he croaked. “One more touch-down! One more goal! We’ll win!” But the time was short, and, for all of her success, Fardale’s chances seemed small. Dick urged his men to do their best, and they responded after the manner of true Fardale boys.