"Ye-e-s," admitted Lent hesitatingly. "But after all they had only a yard to spare." "I tell you it will be a massacre," declared Sandy, who now settled down comfortably to watch the fulfillment of his prediction. "Brace up, fellows," Garry panted to his companions. "They're not such a much. We nearly held them that time. Next time we'll get the ball." But the regulars had already awakened to the fact that the scrubs were not going to be such a "pudding" as had been anticipated, and they summoned all their energy to make the next four downs yield a more impressive result. It seemed as though they were going to do it, too, for on the first try Dittler plunged through a hole between guard and tackle for six yards. That was so good that he tried again, but Pete Maddern tackled him savagely and threw him back for three yards. Wynn himself took the ball for the next play, but though he launched himself at the line like a thunderbolt he made only two yards. With five yards to go on the fourth down and such a stiff defense to combat, Wynn tried a forward pass to Minter. But Minter, usually reliable, fumbled it and the ball fell to the ground. Garry pounced on it like a flash and, tucking it securely under his arm, skirted the right end, running like a deer. He was nearly forced out of bounds by Thomas, but dodged adroitly to the left, and with Ted and Rooster running as his interference sped down the field. The action had been so quick and unexpected that the regulars were taken completely by surprise. Knapp made a dash for Garry, but Rooster gave him a stiff shoulder block that rolled him over and over. Dittler made for him, but Garry straight-armed him and kept on. But now the whole team of the regulars was on his trail like a pack of wolves. On he went like the wind, the cheers of the crowd sounding in his ears, his eyes on the goal posts. Twenty yards away! Fifteen! Ten! Wynn himself now was close on his heels. He was a fast runner and was desperate to prevent the threatened touchdown. Five yards, and Garry felt rather than saw that Wynn's outstretched arms were reaching for him. With one last tremendous effort he threw himself toward the line and went over it, still holding the ball a foot in advance of him. Wynn had hurled himself at him and came down on top of him. But he was too late. The touchdown had been made, and the score was 6 to 0 in favor of the scrubs! Garry rose from the ground, panting, bruised, all in, but radiantly happy. "Well run, Grayson!" said Wynn generously, as he clapped the boy on the shoulder. "You almost got me though," returned Garry. "It was a mighty close call." Rooster kicked the goal, adding one more point to the score of the scrubs. The latter were jubilant, while the regulars looked sheepish and discomfited. Sandy Podder rubbed his eyes as though he could not believe what he saw.