"That was the only real good opportunity Merriwell has had," said Sport. "He showed what he could do then. You remember his run through Princeton's line last year?" "That's all right. Yale can't break an opening to let him through Harvard's line this year." "I hope not, but I shan't feel sure of it till the game is over." The Harvard crowd cheered and sang songs till they were hoarse. They hugged each other, tooted horns and indulged in wild antics to give vent to the exuberance of their feelings. The sons of Old Eli who had come up from New Haven to see the game were dolefully silent. They had seen Yale fling herself upon Harvard time after time and rebound as a ball rebounds from a solid wall, and their hearts were weak within them. Paula Benjamin was almost crazy with joy. She laughed and cried by turns. "Oh, the dear fellows!" she exclaimed. "I could hug every one of them!" Inza Burrage said nothing, but upon her face there was a look of unspeakable disappointment and dismay. In her heart she was crying: "Will Yale let them beat? Will Frank be beaten? If he is, I am sure I'll never speak to him again!" Soon the men formed for the beginning of the second half. Harvard went into the game on the jump, and Yale was forced to resort to defense play. It seemed that there was no stopping the crimson in its onward march to victory. Foot by foot and inch by inch Yale was beaten back till the ball was on the twenty-yard line. Then Halliday revived hope in a measure by taking it back to the center of the field, where he was downed with such violence that he was picked up quite unconscious, and another man had to be put in his place, while he was carried from the field, limp and covered with dirt and glory. It seemed that Halliday's desperate do-or-die break gave Yale courage and hope. For some time she held Harvard at the center of the field, not allowing a gain of a foot. Then Old Eli got the ball and rushed it into Harvard's territory. What a glorious fight it was! Now every Yale man in the crowd was on his feet cheering like mad. Those cheers seemed to make fiends of the defenders of the blue. They played, every man of 'em, as if they were in battle and ready to sacrifice their lives without a moment of hesitation. They were irresistible. Harvard's stone wall was broken at last. Merriwell was in the thick of it. Four times he advanced the ball. Others took turns, and, at last, the ball was on Harvard's twenty-five-yard line. Then there was a hush, for it suddenly became plain that Merriwell would try to kick a goal from the field. It was a desperate expedient. Yale feared to lose the ball and have it carried back to the center in a minute. Such a loss would be fatal, and Forrest knew it Frank had been given the signal to kick. "He can't do it!" cried scores. Then they thought of the beautiful kick he had made at the very beginning of the game and were silent.