"Can't seem to, but he must be there. Yes, there he is with the group out to the right." "Those are the substitutes. Why is he with them?" Harris stared, quite as much puzzled as Harlow, for he had understood that Ott was to be put in as full-back for Yale at the very start. "It must be--it can't be--it can't be Marline is going to try it!" "You said he couldn't step on his foot." "He can't." "Then he isn't in it." "Of course not." "Who is?" "You tell!" Then, all at once, Harlowe caught Harris by the shoulder, and, pointing toward the field, almost screamed in his ear: "Ten thousand furies! Look there--look there, you blunderer! See him--see that tall, straight fellow?" "Where?--who?" "Where? Who? Right there, with the Yale captain--with Forrest! By all the living fiends, it is----" "Frank Merriwell!" gasped Harris. "Yes, and he is going to play full-back for Yale! He'll hoodoo Harvard! Yale will win this game!" CHAPTER XXXV. STOPPING A TOUCHDOWN. Frank Merriwell was there. His appearance was a surprise to nearly all the Yale crowd; it created a sensation. "Merriwell has been taken in to fill Marline's place!" was the excited statement that went around. "It's a foolish move," declared scores. "He has not been practicing with the team. He's not in condition." They did not know Frank Merriwell thoroughly, for he kept himself in condition constantly. At first his appearance seemed to create doubt and uncertainty among the spectators who were interested in Yale. Gradually, however, enthusiasm grew. It was remembered how he had carried the ball right through Princeton's center in the game the year before, making the most remarkable run ever known on a football field. Yale had felt her chance was a desperate one; surely it could not be any worse. Perhaps it might be bettered by the placing of Merriwell at full-back. It was a desperate resort, but who could say the result would not justify the move? Forrest was talking to Merriwell, having drawn Frank aside. They were in earnest conversation. A little negro boy came on the field. How he escaped the vigilance of the officers was a mystery, but he reached the group of substitutes. "Heah!" he called, flourishing something in his hand: "heah am suffin' to Mistah Merriwell. Where am he?" It was a folded scrap of paper. One of the substitutes took it and told the boy to "chase himself." "I's done got mah pay fo' bringin' it," he chuckled, as he scudded off. The note reached Merriwell when he had finished talking with Forrest. He took it in surprise, and then opened it hastily. A gasp came from his lips when he saw the writing. "From Inza!" he whispered. This is what he read: