A thunder of yells from the Lenox rooters swept across the field as Garry, flushed and panting, rose to his feet. Minter kicked the goal, and the score was 20 to 17 in favor of the visitors. A field goal by Lenox would tie the score. A touchdown would win, provided they kept Wimbledon from increasing its tally. But the time was now perilously short. Both teams were wound up to the highest fighting pitch. Every inch that was gained had to be fought for. Again and again attempts to buck the line by either team proved unavailing, and the ball changed hands repeatedly. With only three minutes left for play, Johnston fumbled the ball and Garry pounced on it and ran for a gain of twenty-three yards, bringing the ball within eight yards of the Wimbledon goal. But with victory almost in sight and the Lenox fans shouting like mad, the referee ordered the ball brought back and in addition penalized the Lenox team. One of their team had been off-side, and the run went for nothing--even less than nothing. Lenox's case was almost desperate then, but still the team fought on. With but one minute left for play, Wynn tried for a goal from the Wimbledon thirty-five yard line. The ball soared through the air like a bird, and for one breathless minute it seemed as though it were going over the bar. But it struck the right goal post and bounded back in the field where Beebe fell upon it, and before it could again be put in play the referee's whistle blew and the game was over. Wimbledon had conquered by a score of 20 to 17! The Lenox boys were game, and lined up and gave three cheers for the victors. Wimbledon, who knew that they had been in a fight, responded with three more cheers, and then the teams retired to their respective quarters. Sandy Podder was jubilant, though he did not dare show it. "Gosh, I would have been sore if that kid had made another touchdown!" he whispered to Lent. "Y-e-e-s," responded Lent dubiously. "But it would have won for Lenox." "Lenox be hanged!" replied Sandy, "I'd rather she'd lose than have Grayson win it for her." Garry's chums crowded around him, patting him, thumping him until he was sore. "Gee, but you were wonderful, Garry!" exclaimed Ted. "Those runs of yours were peaches," put in Rooster. "If that game had only lasted ten minutes longer!" groaned Nick. Others now came forward to congratulate the scrub player. "You did dandy work, Grayson," was Ralph Wynn's tribute. "Well played, my boy," Coach Garwin contented himself with saying, at the same time placing his hand on the boy's shoulder. "I made no mistake in sending you in." "But we lost the game," mourned Garry, as, later on, he was walking home with his chums. "The first game of the league season, too! I was hoping we'd get the jump on them." "It was too bad," agreed Bill. "But if Lenox was beaten she was not disgraced. The boys played great football in the last half." "There'll be a different story to tell next time," predicted Rooster.