One of Garry's eyes was closed now, but he made the other do the work of two. When he got the ball a moment later he broke through for a first down on the scrubs' forty-yard line. Nick added two yards and Garry again made his way through for twelve yards taking the ball beyond mid-field. Here, however, the scrubs were penalized fifteen yards for holding, and Garry saw his gain go for nothing--less than nothing. But this, far from discouraging him, only added to the fierce energy of which he felt himself possessed. Grimy, bleeding, half blind, again he got through the middle for fourteen yards. Tom Allison made four yards on the first down. Then Garry shot around the left end for a seventeen-yard gain. He was downed by Dittler on the regulars' thirty-yard line. A moment later he again broke away for another first down placing the ball on the regulars' eighteen-yard line. Nothing could hold him now. He was practically the whole team, though Tom Allison and Pete Maddern gave him royal support. In two more tries he made nine yards more. Here his team was penalized five yards for holding. But in his present mood, fourteen yards counted for little to Garry Grayson. Once more he plunged through the bewildered line of the regulars and by a superb effort hurled himself over the goal line for a touchdown. Nick kicked the goal. Just then the whistle sounded. The game was over and the regulars had won by a score of twenty-three to seventeen! "Gee, but you gave us a battle!" laughed Ralph Wynn, as he helped Garry with his bruised eye. Coach Garwin came up and grinned as he looked at Garry. "Somewhat disfigured, but still in the ring, I see, Grayson," he said. "You played a good game and ran your team well. You've certainly given the regulars something to think about. In this last quarter you did about all the ground-gaining. They found you hard to stop. Keep it up! Keep it up!" It was high praise from Al Garwin, who was usually chary of words--especially words of praise--and Garry found enough in them to compensate him for all his efforts. By this time the bleachers were empty and the crowd was spread over the field, the freshmen and grammar school lads clustering about Garry and his team, whom they cheered to the echo. Even some of the haughty upper classmen condescended to clap Garry on the shoulder and congratulate him on his showing. "Well, we had a moral victory anyway," Ted Dillingham comforted himself, as the scrubs were slipping into their street clothes. "We were beaten, but not disgraced." "If we'd had five periods instead of four, I bet we would have beaten them anyway," declared Rooster. "That is," he added, "if Garry could have kept up the pace he was going in the fourth. Gee, Garry, you were as slippery as an eel!"