"At first Harvard rushed Yale down the field. Yale could not hold them back. It was easy for Harvard. Jack got the ball--Jack Benjamin. He went through Yale's line. The coast was cleared. He made a touchdown. He ran like a deer. How his legs did fly!" "Good!" cried Miss Abigail, getting excited and dropping her knitting--"good for Jack!" "But a Yale man was after him, and the Yale man could run. The crowd was wild with excitement. Jack tore up the earth. The Yale man tore up the earth----" "He couldn't catch Jack!" exclaimed the spinster. "It wasn't any use for him to try." "He did catch him--jumped at him--caught his ankles--pulled him down!" "You don't say! He'd ought to be walloped!" "Then the others came up, and they all piled on Jack and Frank." "Frank? Frank who?" "Why, Frank Merriwell, of course." "Was he the one that caught Jack?" "Yes." "I might have known it. No use for Jack to try to run away from Frank. He couldn't do that. But I thought Frank wasn't going to play?" "He broke his promise to me--he did play." "Do tell! I'm surprised!" "So was I. He stopped Jack, but Harvard scored in the first half, and Yale didn't get a thing. Then came the other half. Yale went at Harvard with new life. Frank seemed to give it to them. He rushed the ball down the field. Harvard couldn't hold him." "Of course not." "He got the ball close down to Harvard's line. Then he kicked a goal." "Hurrah!" cried Miss Abigail, with an astonishing burst of enthusiasm. "Go on, Inza." "The ball was put into play again. Again Yale got it and rushed it down through Harvard's line. Harvard made a furious struggle to hold it back. Frank got it at last--he broke through--they couldn't stop him. Then--then, with three Harvard men on his back, he carried the ball over the line for a touchdown, kicked a goal, and won the game." Miss Abigail was palpitating with excitement. "Goodness me!" she gurgled. "And Frank did all that? I didn't see him do it, either! Goodness me! It must have been grand--it must have been! What a fool I was to stay at home!" Inza laughed, and then became sober, suddenly. "Yale won," she said, "but I'll never speak to him again." "Him? Who?" "Frank." "Won't speak to Frank Merriwell?" "No." "Why not?" "He broke his promise to me. Harvard would have won if he hadn't. Look at Paula! She is heartbroken! It was mean of Frank--just as mean as it could be!" "It was mean," said Paula, "and Frank Merriwell ought to be ashamed. I think he must be an awfully cheap fellow to do anything like that." Miss Abigail's face grew hard as iron. "Now, you hold right on, Paula Benjamin!" she said, severely. "Don't you talk about him! Your mother and me was schoolmates, but I won't stay in this house to hear Frank Merriwell traduced! I know him, and he's a fine young man." "He may be," reluctantly admitted Paula, seeing Miss Gale was thoroughly aroused; "but it seems to me that a fine young man should keep a pledge."