"I hope not," said Howard. "A short kick would mean a free catch and a chance for a placement goal. Good boy," he shouted as Madden changed the signal, and the fullback, who had gone back behind the goal line, came running up again to the regular formation. "Put it through them!" "Smash it out, boys!" The signal came sharp and clear from the lips of the quarterback, high above the background of yells from the partisans. "Turner's ball," whispered Frank to himself. The pass was swift and true. Turner took the ball from Madden's hands at full speed. The play was intended to be a slice off tackle, a play that had gained a good deal of ground during the afternoon. But, alas for the best laid plans of men, mice and football players, he never reached his destination. The tired Yale line sagged and broke. Through gaping holes poured a stream of Crimson-jerseyed men. Two tacklers struck Turner, who was practically on his goal line, at the same time, and swept him backward like chaff. So swift and sudden had been the deluge that the halfback was carried off his feet and over the goal line before he had even a chance to yell "down." The crowd did not at once appreciate the significance of the matter, but a few, recognizing a safety for Harvard, set up a scattered cheer. A moment later the fateful information was flashed from the scoreboard, "Safety," and the Harvard stand delivered itself of a high-pitched yell. A moment later the referee's whistle blew, and the great game was over. A host of men swept from the stands and surrounded the victors, cheering and prancing about. With Bostwick at its head, trying hard not to limp, and with faces drawn and mud-stained, the beaten team walked wearily to the dressing rooms where they were joined by the substitutes. "You didn't win but I'm proud of you all," said Coach Howard, slapping the jaded players on the back as they came through the door. "You were up against a better team, fifty per cent. better." "Here, Bostwick," he added a minute later to the captain, who, sunk in gloom and with hanging head, was pulling off his wet football clothes, "cheer up. We can't always win. The main business is that you and your team played a magnificent up-hill game. I'm satisfied and Yale will be satisfied for you gave the best in you. That's always the test. You'll have another chance next year." CHAPTER VII. A WRECK AT THE HARBOR.