But misfortunes--as viewed by Lenox--never come singly, for just as the Wimbledon flood had seemed to be stayed a break of the game came to their aid. Lenox had begun a march down the field that threatened to bring them within striking distance of the hostile goal. They had reached the twenty-yard line when McCarty fumbled, and Reulbach, pouncing on the ball like a hawk, sped like a meteor down the field with all the Lenox team pounding at his heels and went over the line for another touchdown, the third for Wimbledon in that period. The scoring for the quarter ended then and there, and until the referee's whistle blew the lines swayed back and forth nearly in midfield. It had been a notable comeback for Wimbledon, which was now only six points behind. It was their rooters' turn to howl, and they made the most of it: "Wimbledon! Wimbledon! You've got Lenox on the run. Keep it up, it's lots of fun. Wimbledon! Wimbledon!" Sweet music for the visiting team, but rank discord to Garry Grayson and his mates. "They'll be singing to a different tune before the game's over," predicted Garry. "Wake up, fellows! Tear into 'em! Rip 'em up the back!" Wimbledon made frantic efforts to get an overhead attack going through the fourth period. Ford and Weston formed one combination which tried in vain, and Acland and Reulbach made another. But the alert Lenox ends and secondary defense were usually out-guessing the Wimbledons in the efforts to execute their forward passes. Finding themselves thwarted, the Wimbledon boys resorted to line smashing tactics. But there was no Swiss cheese element now in the Lenox line. Holes were few and far between, and the contest grew so hard and furious that both sides were penalized for roughing. It was a ding-dong fight that set the crowd delirious. Five minutes had passed with the elevens pushing each other back and forth, each resorting to the punt when rushes and forward passes were smeared, when suddenly a Lenox pass was intercepted by Booth, the big left tackle of the Wimbledons, who leaped high into the air, gathered the ball under his arm, and with a clear field before him ran thirty-two yards to a touchdown. Reulbach kicked the goal, and for the first time in the game Wimbledon was ahead. She had twenty-eight points to Lenox's twenty-seven. Only one point, but with the last quarter nearing its close that one point loomed up like the Rock of Gibraltar. The noise now was deafening. All semblance of sanity had disappeared from the Wimbledon section. The Lenox stands were wrapped in a pall of gloom. All sat glum and silent.