But Laughlin tore himself away from the solicitous group. “I’m all right,” he declared savagely. “Play the game!” The lines formed again amid tremendous applause from the Seaton side, as the injured man went bravely back into the fray. The Hillbury quarter, shrewdly guessing on the probabilities, drove his heaviest back against the Seaton captain. For the first time in the game a hole was found at right guard, and when Milliken and Buist stemmed the charge, the ball lay six yards down the field. The next attack was at Bent, the third through Laughlin. The fourth in the same place stretched the Seaton captain again upon the ground. “Dave, you’re hurt! You oughtn’t to go on,” pleaded Wolcott, taking Laughlin’s head in his lap. The captain’s eyes moved uncertainly; he seemed suddenly stripped of his strength. In a moment, however, the old spirit returned, and he rose determined. “I’m all right,” he insisted. “I’m all right; play the game!” Laughlin was the captain; his orders were not to be questioned. A plunge at the Seaton left was squarely met, another on the right penetrated five yards. Laughlin was down again. Time was called, and Collins came running in with his water-pail. “Tell him to go off,” urged Wolcott. “He doesn’t know what he’s about. It’s cruel to let him stay here!” The trainer shrugged his shoulders; he was not master on the field. Laughlin lifted himself unsteadily to his feet. The applause on the Seaton side had ceased; instead, ominous shouts of “Take him out! take him out!” were heard along the bank of crimson and gray. “I’m all right,” persisted the captain; “I can play;” and he started back to his place. Wolcott grasped his arm. “Dave!” he cried in despair, “you aren’t fit to play. Go off and let us finish the game. You aren’t yourself at all. Do what I say, please!” But Laughlin snatched his arm away and turned toward the line. Wolcott threw himself before him. “Answer me one question, and I won’t say another word. Where are you going to college, Harvard or Yale? Just answer me that.” With stupid eyes Laughlin gazed into his friend’s face. “Harvard or Yale? Harvard or Yale?” he repeated. “It’s one or the other, but I don’t seem to know which—” Then straightening up, he shouted: “We’re wasting time! Set ’em going there! Get into the game!” But Wolcott’s test question had shown convincingly Laughlin’s incapacity. The coach was allowed to come on the field, and together they labored with the bewildered but stubborn fellow, who, like the famous Spartan captain, refused to retreat while the enemy was still before him. Only when Poole and Ware were called in, and their personal appeal was added to the pleas of Wolcott and the coach, did the dazed captain give way, and allow his friends to lead him from the field. Wolcott, who had sometimes played on the right side, went over into Laughlin’s place, Butler succeeded Wolcott, and Conley replaced Bent.